Refugee (The Captive #3)(33)
She knew he took no pleasure in the killing, or at least she tried to tell herself that because at the moment she wasn’t so certain. The ease with which it was done, the brutality of it all was mind numbing. She was so focused upon Braith that it took awhile for her to realize that though the group had encircled the creatures, Braith was the only one fighting.
“What are they doing?” She spun away from the window, determined to get to him. Ashby stepped swiftly in front of her. Gone was the good natured vampire she knew, instead he was a massive hulk of annoyance as he effectively blocked her way. “Move!”
“No.”
For a moment she was speechless, then her mouth snapped shut and she glowered at him as her fingers curled around her bow. “They’re not helping him!”
“I know.”
“I have to!”
“No.”
Aria’s nostrils flared, she was fuming as she pushed against him. He was like an impenetrable wall and he didn’t even have the decency to pretend her shove affected him. “So help me Ashby if you don’t get out of my way I’ll shoot you!”
“No.” If he said no to her one more time she really was going to shoot him. “Braith suspected this might happen.”
Her anger deflated instantly. “What?”
“They have to see if he’s strong enough to lead. This is a test and he needs to pass it.”
“There’s too many of them, he needs my help!”
Ashby shook his head. “No, he needs to concentrate and you will be nothing but a distraction to him right now. He can do this Aria, you know it and I know it. You need to stay here. Why do you think he left me in charge of you instead of William? He knew your brother wouldn’t be able to stop you, please don’t make me force you to stay.”
She didn’t know which feeling was worse, the anger or the terror. Braith had suspected this, he’d set her up, the three of them had plotted against her and unless she really did injure Ashby, she wasn’t getting past him. Though she would hurt him if Braith required help, and there was a definite possibility she would shoot her brother when this was over. He had it coming anyway; he’d been tormenting her since he could talk. Rushing out there, being reckless and not trusting Braith could put them all in even more danger. She could get them all killed.
“Damn him!” she snapped as she spun back to the fight. “And damn you!”
She thought she heard Ashby mutter, “Too late,” but she became so focused on the fighting again that she couldn’t be sure, and she wasn’t in the mood to push it.
Her stomach twisted as the bow fell limply back to her side. There was no need for it now. Her interference would not be appreciated. Ever so slowly, she slipped it onto her back and replaced the arrow. She couldn’t stand the spectacle of the bloodbath anymore but she couldn’t turn away, not until it was over and she was certain Braith was safe.
Death, those creatures welcomed death. The realization left Aria hollow and shaken. These were not the king’s soldiers; these were lost, starving souls. Souls, she reminded herself, that had done something to warrant such a fate. The reminder did little good. There was so much blood and rage that she was frightened she might be sick.
She leaned forward as two of them launched at Braith. Her breath was frozen in her chest as he fell back, struggling beneath the weight of one of them. She barely had time to blink before he grabbed hold of the back of its neck and ripped it off of himself. No matter how much she yearned to turn away, every ounce of her was focused upon Braith.
Ashby’s hand suddenly slid around her mouth. She jumped; a startled cry escaped her as he pulled her firmly against his chest. A finger appeared in front of her face, held up before her as he pulled her back a few steps and maneuvered her into a side room. Aria caught only a brief glimpse of pale dirty feet appearing at the top of the steps before Ashby slid the door silently closed.
CHAPTER 8
Ashby released her as he strode swiftly across the room. Broken pieces of furniture were stacked in the corner, buried beneath years of dust and sand. Dismay filled her as her gaze drifted slowly down. Their shoes left footprints in the sand; no matter how silent they were there was no hiding.
“Ashby.” He turned to her, placing a finger against his lips as his eyes narrowed into a glare. Impatience filled her as she pointed angrily at their feet and then the trail of prints they had left behind. Apparently being banished to a tree house for the past hundred years had dulled Ashby’s senses as it took him a few seconds to understand what she was trying to convey. His mouth dropped at the same time the knob began to rattle.
Aria lurched forward, thrusting her weight against the door as it started to creak open. It slammed back closed. There was a hushed moment of silence and then excited grunts and squeals began to issue from the other side. Ashby was instantly beside her, his body weight shoved against the door as the creatures began to push and pound eagerly upon it. Between the two of them one was easy to take care of, Ashby could do it himself, but judging by the sounds, and the force with which they pushed against the door, there were at least three out there.
Her fingers itched for her bow as a crack appeared at the top of the door. It was old, it would not hold against the force of these creatures. Aria’s gaze fell to the pile in the corner, but even if they stacked it against the door it would do little good. Then, she spotted the window.