Refugee (The Captive #3)(32)
She frowned at him in displeasure, but relented as he pulled her away from the door. The chatter hit her instantly; she could practically feel the excitement palpitating through the room. Ashby took hold of her arm and turned her in the opposite direction of the crush trying to work their way out the door.
Ashby kept her behind him, using his body to shield her from the stragglers drifting through the house. He shouldered aside a questioning young man that eyed Aria with interest. A low growl emanated from Ashby’s chest, the color drained from the man’s face as he hurried on down the stairs.
“Idiot,” Ashby mumbled under his breath.
Aria craned her neck to watch the young man. “Is he human Ashby?”
“He is.”
“Why is he so interested in us?”
“Because he’s an idiot.” Aria turned back around as Ashby placed a gentle hand in the small of her back, urging her on before swiftly removing his touch. Aria forgot all about the young man as she hurried up the last few steps, she nearly bolted to the broken window at the end of the hall. She placed her hands against the sill, leaning out to watch the group spread out across the sand. She searched frantically for Braith, but he was nowhere to be seen amongst the crowd and run-down structures surrounding them.
Panic seized hold of her, her hands curled around the ledge as she bent further out. It was bad enough not being able to be with him, but not being able to see him was a thousand times worse. Ashby grabbed hold of her shoulder, pulling her back as he pried her hands from the sill.
She was stunned to see blood welling up on her palms and fingers. There had still been glass in the frames, but she hadn’t felt the bite of it against her flesh. “How did you manage to stay alive this long?” Ashby inquired as he tore the edges of his shirt and used the rags to wrap her damaged hands.
“I didn’t feel it.”
“I know.”
She turned eagerly back to the window as he released her hands. “Where is he?”
Ashby’s shoulder pressed against hers as he peered out the window. “There.”
She followed his finger to a building about four hundred feet away. She could just barely make out the form of someone standing in the doorway of a small shack. He was half hidden amongst the shifting sand, and blinding light. Though it was difficult to discern the figure completely, she knew instantly that Ashby was right, it was Braith.
Her fingers twitched, she pulled the bow from her back and propped it on the floor before her. It would be tricky to get a clear shot with so many below, but she was going to do her best to take out as many as possible. Braith may not want her down there, but he hadn’t said anything about her taking position right here.
She watched as more figures crept forward. Gideon had said that they were drawn by the presence of anyone in the desert sands, they did not discriminate, they were hungry and they didn’t care how many were awaiting them or how powerful they were. The promise of blood was a strong motivator to these lost, ravenous souls.
“Do you think we can get on the roof?” she inquired.
“Do you want to see me dismembered?”
Aria chuckled as she shook her head. “I don’t think he’s quite as volatile as you make him sound.”
“No Aria, he is. The only thing that might keep him sane if something were to happen to you is the fact that you have not done everything necessary to completely form the link. But don’t doubt for a minute that he is capable of far more vicious and brutal acts than anything you’ve ever seen. I’ve come to realize that he is capable of anything when it comes to you, maybe even beating his father. I know what I would do if Melinda were threatened.”
Aria swallowed heavily as she fought the blush trying to work its way up her neck and through her face. It didn’t sit well that he knew such an intimate detail of their lives. “But your link with Melinda is complete.”
“Yes, and that does make some difference, I think. How much of one I don’t know. No one does.”
There was something about Ashby’s tone of voice, something secretive and fevered about his bright green eyes that caused a deep feeling of unease to form in her stomach. A shout from outside drew her attention, her hand constricted around the bow. The fresh cuts on her hands ached but they were not deep or overly painful. She drew an arrow from its quiver, knocking it against the bow without a sound.
The creatures were closer now, blending with the environment. They moved as swiftly as the dust particles dancing through the air. Her eyes found Braith, her heart beat against her ribs with loud thumps she was certain everyone could hear. William stood behind him, his hair far too noticeable for her liking.
The attack was swifter than she had expected it to be. She didn’t think the creatures had much use for logic, at least not anymore, but she hadn’t expected this suicidal rush into the town. It was as if they didn’t care, as if they welcomed the thought of death as much as the promise of blood.
Braith tried to coordinate the attack but she wasn’t sure he could coordinate anything against these mindless creatures. How could he plan against something that had lost the ability to reason, something with no sense of self-preservation? But somehow Braith did it as she watched the vampires, along with some humans, split and flow in different directions, effectively encircling and trapping the creatures between the buildings. She was well aware that Braith was at the center of the attack, even through the shifting conditions she could see the blood that coated him, the speed with which he moved, the deadly precision with which he carried out the death of these things.