Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(76)

The bottom disappeared. Heart racing, he kicked to stay above the surface, gulping breaths, swallowing stinging water. Can’t breathe . . .

Dizziness washed over him, and his vision wavered. He shook his head hard. Then it happened again. Yet somehow he’d maneuvered closer to Carrow.

He felt the ends of her hair just as he saw a ghostly fin break the surface. He snagged the witch, trying to hold her while flailing his free arm and kicking frantically to keep them above the water. How to return to the land?

Another fin rose and dipped. Creatures were circling them, which meant predators. Which meant fangs or claws, or both.

He shook her. “Carrow, wake!” She wasn’t breathing? “Witch?”

One of those things came from beneath them, knocking into him with the force of a Gotoh. Another driving hit nearly pried Carrow loose from Malkom’s arms before he gripped her against his body.

The next strike shoved them below the surface. Malkom’s feet briefly scraped the bottom. Going against all his instincts, he let himself sink among the creatures. Once his feet connected to the bottom again, he kicked with all his strength, surging out of the depths into shallower waters. Through the frothing waves he hauled her away from those things.

Back on land, he dropped to his knees with her, lowering his head to her chest. “Carrow!” She still wasn’t breathing. No heartbeat. “No, no!” She couldn’t die like this.

She is already dead. He knew this, could see—could sense she was gone.

But Carrow was an immortal, so she would revive. Right? And what do I know of witches? He couldn’t say that her kind could come back.

“Carrow, wake up!” Her parted lips were blue, her face ashen. His bite mark was stark against her neck. “Wake now, witch!” I cannot lose her again.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her until her head lolled. “Breathe!” he roared. Water trickled from her mouth. “Come back, ara!” Collecting her into his arms, he cupped her head to his chest, smoothing her hair from her face. “Carrow, I plead to you . . .”

The girl was hitting his arm, screaming at him. “Blow air in her mouth, Malkom!”

Had he heard her right? Desperate, he put his lips to her cold ones, exhaling.





34




Blackness receded in a rush as air filled her lungs, pushing the heavy water up. Lungs too full, strangling—

She opened her eyes. Malkom’s mouth was pressed to hers? She knocked him out of the way, hunching over to hack up the seawater.

As he rubbed her back with his big hand, she wheezed on the stone-laden beach. Sand gritted in her eyes, her teeth chattered around rattling breaths, but she was alive. “R-ruby? Wh-where is she?”

Ruby rushed into Carrow’s arms. The girl was conscious, safe.

“Are you okay, Crow?”

Carrow held her tight, shuddering with relief. Over the girl’s shoulder, Carrow met Malkom’s gaze. “Malkom, you kept her s-safe.” She mouthed, “Thank you.”

He gazed away, looking uncomfortable with her gratitude. Then he tensed, his eyes going black and fangs lengthening.

The surviving ghouls had begun loping ashore.

Malkom rose to his full height, roaring at them until her ears hurt.

Amazingly, they cowered, scuttling back into the waves. She remembered that the ghouls in Oblivion had been afraid of him, too. Never in her life had she met an immortal who could frighten them.

The monster that monsters feared.

She and Ruby both gaped up at him. Ruby whispered loudly, “He scared ’em away, Crow.”

“I-I saw that, honey.”

Ruby was shaking, soaked through. Though Carrow could scarcely imagine getting to her feet, she knew she had to. They had to keep moving. I’ve got a little girl to protect.

But where to take her? Carrow swiped her forearm over her face, squinting through the persistent rain at their surroundings. The rocky beach was part of a small cove. The forest bordered it. Mountain peaks soared in the background.

“She n-needs shelter and a fire,” Carrow told Malkom. “She’ll grow too cold. Will you help us again?”

A sharp nod.



As ever with things concerning the witch, Malkom’s thoughts were in turmoil.

She’d asked him to get them somewhere safe, but he knew nothing about these lands. Falling back on habit, he’d begun heading for higher ground, had led them for more than an hour.

He glanced over at her now. She was petting the girl’s damp hair as she murmured reassuringly to her. The child looked like a tiny Carrow, a doll in her image, a deela.

Though he’d offered to carry both her and the girl, Carrow insisted on holding her, saying that she would be shaken.

Shaken? He was still shaken from seeing Carrow lying lifeless, with her face so pale. Her heart had been still in her chest. She hadn’t been breathing, until he’d given her breath.

The least he could do, since she’d first given it to him.

Earlier, when he’d realized that Carrow hadn’t wanted to betray him, he’d been so damned relieved. His rage had been like a noose around his neck, easing its bite.

But now that he’d had time to come to grips with everything, he wondered how he could ever trust her again. Although he understood why she’d done what she did, the fact remained that she’d led him to what could have been his death. And his rancor over that had begun to grow.