Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(71)

But before Carrow could reach the sorceress, the Vrekener popped her in the face with one of those claw-tipped wings, knocking her back on her ass. She scrambled up again, drawing her new sword.

When he struck once more, Carrow ducked, sliding under his wing as if stealing home base. She thrust the blade up into his vulnerable skin there.

Blood gushed; he roared in pain, dropping Lanthe’s ankle to remove the sword.

Carrow grabbed Lanthe’s hand, dragging her up. Yet before Lanthe could get to her feet, Thronos tossed away the sword and clamped his blood-soaked hand over her leg once more.

He wrenched the sorceress back, but Carrow kept a death grip on Lanthe’s hand.

When another quake rumbled, Lanthe cried, “Save Ruby!”

“I’ll save you both.”

In a deafening rush, rocks began to tumble down from the ceiling, filling the space between Carrow and Ruby.

“Crow!” the girl screamed. “Where are you?”

Carrow jerked her head over her shoulder. She could barely hear Ruby. “I’m coming!”

As she faced forward again, Lanthe yanked her hand away. “Save your girl! I’ll be okay!”

Smoke thickened, rubble building around them.

“Crow, hurry!”

“I’m so sorry, Lanthe,” she whispered as the Vrekener snatched her friend into the darkness.

Heartsick, Carrow sprinted back to the stones that separated her from Ruby, crouching to dig frantically. “I’m here, baby. Just hold on!”

Though she was able to remove the smaller stones, the boulders wouldn’t budge. She clawed at them, gaining no ground. Remembering her short sword, she raced back for it, returning to stab the blade under one of the larger rocks. Nothing.

Through a narrow gap in the bottom, Ruby was able to poke out her hand.

Carrow dropped to her knees to take it.

“Don’t leave me, Crow!”

“Never! Do you hear me? But I’ve got to let go so I can find something longer to lever these rocks loose.” Like a pipe, or a spear. “I’m going to be right back.”

“Nooo!” Ruby shrieked, clutching Carrow’s hand, digging her tiny nails in.

Biting back tears, Carrow forced herself to pull free, even as Ruby cried, “No, Crow, no, no, no!” She began hyperventilating again. “Please, please, don’t leave me. I’ll be good, I w-won’t sing anymore . . . .”

“Just breathe, baby. I’m going to be right back!”

“Crow, p-please,” she begged, sobbing as her little hand blindly grasped.

Forcing herself to her feet, Carrow wiped her eyes. “I’m coming back for you, I swear.”

Ruby’s hand went limp, and she fell silent.

“Ah, Ruby, no!” Carrow clutched her chest with fear, knowing she could do nothing to help her.

Can’t reach her, only one way to help . . . Her mind went blank and somehow she backed away, toward that storage room.

Carrow spun forward, running faster than she ever had, pumping her arms for speed as she maneuvered through the tunnel.





32




Amid the thousands of distracting scents, Malkom finally caught Carrow’s, following it down a long corridor into a wood-paneled room. He heard movement in an adjoining chamber and crept inside.

The witch, just there.

She was yanking at the railing of a stairway, gritting her teeth as she used her entire body to pull.

He could have plucked it free with one hand. What did she want with that metal?

Silently, he stalked her. Closer . . . His hands shot out, seizing her. “Did you think I would not find you?” His arms trapped her against him.

“No, no!” she screamed, thrashing.

“Shut up!” he roared. Losing control. Bloodlust, the battles, the moaning.

The mindless carnage . . .

“Malkom, you have to let me g-go!” She was hysterical, yelling at the top of her lungs, flailing until she was hurting her own body.

“You made a vow,” he grated between breaths, “that you did not intend to keep.” One of her breasts pressed into his palm, her backside rubbing against his cock. Yank up her skirt and take her against the wall, take what is yours. “You are about to, witch.”

“Y-you don’t understand, b-back in the tunnel—”

“You are a liar!” He wrapped her hair around his fist. “Say nothing to me.”

Revenge would be his at last. As he pressed her chest against the wall, he saw her pulse beating in her neck, already scented her blood. How? Doesn’t matter. He bent her head to the side, shoving her collar up. The bloodlust . . . cannot fight it.

With a groan, he sank his fangs into her flesh and drew deep. Connection. Mine. My woman. With each drop, power filled him, his injuries mending.

But the mad thumping of her heart made him even more frenzied. He bit her harder, sucking more forcefully.

Until he felt her sob.

He grew still. She was crying—he could feel her beneath his fangs. She’d proved that she didn’t cry in the face of fear or even from pain. She’d been angry when Ronath had stabbed her with his spear. Yet the witch was weeping now.

Dumbfounded, he slowly released his bite, turning her to face him.

“L-let me go!” She shoved at his face, but her fingertips were ravaged and bleeding. From digging? “Ah, gods, you have to take me b-back to the tunnel!”