Clean Sweep (Innkeeper Chronicles, #1)(60)



I shot through the inn's boundary, sending the magic in front of me in a wide fan. The tops of the Anansi pearls cracked in unison.

I spun around, the broom in my hand shifting into a halberd.

More than half the stalkers ran across the field in a ragged wave, ignoring Arland. The rest lingered at the edge of the field.

The dahaka strode out of the trees. If he called them back now, it was all over. Both Arland and Sean didn't think he would --he would want to take me out before I reached the inn and turned its defenses on him.

Red lines ignited in Arland's armor. The blood mace whined, priming.

The dahaka roared, the remaining stalkers echoing his voice.

Arland snarled back, a harsh, primal challenge.

The stalkers were almost on me.

The tops of the pearls pulsated. Please be ripe, please be ripe...

Arland trotted forward like a tank that was trying to build up speed.

The first stalker crossed the boundary. I let it come.

It leaped at me. I spun my halberd and sliced across its ribs. White blood flew. The stalkers howled in unison and sped up. That's right. Come closer.

The injured stalker whirled and fell as tree roots wrapped around his body and throat.

Beyond the mass of stalkers, the dahaka charged out of the trees and struck at Arland.

The stalkers mobbed me. I cut the first, then the second, spinning the halberd around me, playing for time. Claws carved my leg. Someone ripped at my back. Now.

The ground gave under the stalkers, sucking them in. It wouldn't hold but for a few seconds. That would have to be enough.

The tops of the Anansi pearls burst. Spiders as big as my fist, their backs glowing with electric green, poured out of the eggs. They swarmed the stalkers. Their jaws punctured flesh, injecting lethal poison. The stalkers screeched in unison as their tissue began to liquefy.

In the field, Arland and the dahaka clashed. The alien dwarfed the vampire, towering a full foot above Arland's head. Arland wasn't slow, but the dahaka was so fast. He snarled, turning back and forth, slicing at Arland with a short blue blade. The blows rained on the vampire, but he stood his ground. The stalkers snapped and lunged at him, their claws sliding off his armor.

A chunk of Arland's armor fell to the ground, wet with blood.

The vampire grunted, teeth bared. His mace connected with the dahaka's shoulder. The impact threw the dahaka back. He stumbled, then charged again. Arland braced himself. The alien turned, whipping his massive tail. It smashed into Arland, staggering him to the side.

"Faster," I whispered to the Anansi's children. "Kill faster."

They didn't understand my word, but they understood my tone. The spiders fed faster, gorging themselves. The stalkers inside the inn boundary convulsed, moaning. There was nothing I could do until the stalkers were dead. Both Sean and Arland had stressed to me that this was my part of the plan and it was essential I killed them all.

Another chunk of armor flew from Arland. The dahaka was carving him out of it, piece by piece.

Where the hell was Sean? Come on. He wouldn't chicken out. He just couldn't.

Arland took another tail hit on the side. His head hung. He shook it slowly, as if dazed.

"Faster," I pushed the spiders. If I moved without them, I'd lose control of the swarm. They would live just long enough to fill the Avalon Subdivision with the lifeless husks of its former inhabitants. "Hurry."

The dahaka spun around the vampire like a bladed whirlwind. Blood drenched Arland's armor. He gasped. The dahaka sliced across the back of his legs. Arland went down on one knee.

The largest of the spiders fell on its side. Its legs jerked spasmodically and became still. I had pushed them too far too fast. Damn it.

The last stalker wailed and died.

I strode across the boundary and the rest of the spiders followed me, intoxicated by my magic. Behind me the last of the stalkers sank softly to the ground, dry shells of their formerly impressive selves.

The dahaka barked a short command. The remaining stalkers charged at me.

The alien swung his blade, aiming for Arland's bowed head.

I ran. The spiders surged forward, heading for the alien, and washed over the remaining stalkers.

Three things happened at once: the dahaka struck, bringing his blade down; Arland spun out of the way; and a lean shadow appeared behind the dahaka as if by magic and sank a sword into his spine.

The alien screamed. Sean sliced at him, cutting and slashing with his swords. The dahaka counterattacked with fast, brutal cuts, but Sean was too fast. The assassin's sword whistled through the air, cutting nothing.

The two spiders by my feet cringed and fell over. One by one, my spider horde began to die.

Arland rose to his feet, suddenly fast and limber, and smashed the dahaka's side with his mace. Together the werewolf and the vampire began pushing the dahaka. The blood mace whirred and struck home and for every blow of Arland's weapon, Sean landed two or three cuts. The dahaka fought back with vicious fury. Blood sprayed, and I no longer could tell whose. They kept pressing him, driving him across the clearing toward me.

He should've been disabled by now. That was the plan. But he danced back and forth, fully mobile. At any moment, he could break away and run, and we would have to chase him. Neither Arland nor I would be fast enough. The dahaka was outnumbered and wounded. He was losing and he knew it. I could feel him teetering on the brink of a decision. If he ran, it would be all over.

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