Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One #2)(51)

Flynn, half in, half out of a tree, laid a hand on the head of his wolf. “We can ask them about their wardrobe after we save their pious asses. Starr and I can get closer from this point.”

Starr, quiet as smoke, eased out of a tree, simply nodded. If she could say something in two words, she wouldn’t use three.

“Steve and Connor move in from that point.” Flynn gestured toward a band of trees where others waited, including the two elves.

“Okay then.” Will shifted. “Let them know.”

Easily done, as elves could communicate mind to mind.

“And let’s have Maggie take her group up to that ridge. Any PWs who move up there need to be taken out, quietly. Eddie?”

“My man.”

“Take your team to the south end with Jonah’s. The PWs will be coming soon.”

“They’re coming now.” Flynn, tall, lean as a whippet, angled his head. His eyes, sharp green, narrowed. “I hear engines.”

“Elf ears,” Eddie noted.

“Direction?”

“Southeast. Maybe a quarter of a mile.” Flynn glanced toward Starr for confirmation, then held up a hand. “They stopped.”

“Coming on foot, bigger surprise. Take positions,” Will ordered. “Let’s ambush the ambushers.”

As they moved into positions, Duncan watched the targets gather together. They came—in those weird-ass robes and strange shoes—out of tents and what looked like huts of mud and freaking twigs to stand in a circle around a central fire.

Kids, too, he noted. Babies carried in slings.

No one spoke. When one of the babies squalled, the woman carrying it bared her breast, offered it.

Then there was silence, just the wind sloughing through the trees, as the circle, even the children, drew hoods over their heads, and bowed them.

Sitting ducks, he thought. Every last one of them. The wind kicked up the robes some, exposing bare legs that had to be freezing.

A man came out of one of the huts, long, unbound gray-streaked hair blowing. He moved into the middle of the circle. He lifted his arms high.

“We are the Chosen.”

“Let us be worthy,” the circle responded.

“We have been sinners, all.”

“We do repent.”

“Do you reject the demon inside you?”

“We do reject him and all his evils.”

“Do you embrace the divine?”

“We do embrace him. And we pray for his embrace.”

During the call and response, Duncan edged over until he was shoulder to shoulder with Tonia. “If the faeries can’t manage to pluck up all the kids,” he whispered, “we need to block them or herd them toward the woods, where we can pick them up after.”

“There are three women with babies. If we can’t get the women clear, we get the babies clear.”

Two infants, he counted, and one maybe a year or so. “Agreed.”

“Dunc? They’re a bunch of lunatics.”

“Oh, yeah, but that doesn’t mean they deserve to be slaughtered.”

“No, but we save their butts tonight, even get them out of here to safety? They’re just going to come back. Because they’re lunatics.”

Though he didn’t disagree, he shrugged. Tonight was tonight. Tomorrow was whatever it was. Plus, the chance to take on and defeat a squad of PWs couldn’t be overstated.

He wanted the battle.

Will held up a hand, then seven fingers before pointing to the ridge.

Comm from the elves, Duncan thought. Seven PWs moving up to the ridge. Then he pointed toward Eddie’s position, flashed ten fingers twice. Twenty moving toward the south of the camp. Fifteen, Duncan confirmed, reading the next signal, heading west—their position. And another eight moving east.

With a team of six spreading out through the woods—a cleanup crew, Duncan concluded.

Elves were damn handy, and a lot quieter than walkies.

He heard the movement, the snap of a twig, while the group around the fire continued to call and respond about angels and demons. He touched a hand to his sister’s knee.

“Ready?”

“Oh, yeah.” She moved, quick and quiet as a snake, rising, pivoting behind a tree. Notched an arrow in her bow. Duncan grabbed the hilt of his sword, rolled onto the balls of his feet.

“Ridge secure,” Will murmured. “Hit the lights.”

Duncan pumped his free hand in the air and turned the night to midday. It effectively blinded any enemy wearing night-vision goggles. And the screaming began.

Some in the circle simply fell to their knees, maybe, Duncan thought fleetingly, thinking the light was a sign from their divine. Others scattered.

Gunfire erupted, and Purity Warriors flooded in.

He’d heard the saying about bringing a knife to a gunfight, but Duncan considered a sword a different matter. Plus, a gun didn’t do much good when the hand holding it was cleaved off.

The man he’d wounded let out a shrill scream as his blood spurted. The keen aim of Tonia’s arrow took out another, and Will’s return fire still more.

With his sword slashing, Duncan threw out a wave of power, sent two men and a woman flying back. He sensed a movement to his left, spun to block an attack. A good thing, he’d think later, as he heard a bullet whine past his head.