Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(104)

She licked her lips, her mouth dry.

She had to keep him distracted a few more minutes.

Just long enough to call on her powers.

“Why would you think I want to die?”

“People burdened with morals are always eager to become martyrs,” he said in obvious disgust.

Clearly he had no hopes for earning a sainthood.

“Maybe I just truly believe you’re pathetic,” she pointed out with a humorless smile.

“You’re wasting your energy, my dear.” He tilted his chin, turning back toward Valhalla. “I have waited too long for this moment to be goaded into a rash act of stupidity.”

“It’s my energy to waste.”

“No longer. It’s mine to control.” He gave a sudden chuckle as a group of Sentinels appeared to stand in front of the dead warriors, Duncan’s golden blond hair unmistakable in the moonlight. “Ah. Shall I demonstrate?”

Callie forced herself to her feet, her hand pressed to her lips as she watched the man she loved charging straight at the nearest warrior.

“No,” she breathed, knowing there was no way he could survive for even a few minutes against an indestructible Sentinel. “Please—”

“You see?” Lord Zakhar sneered. “Emotions make you weak.”

“You’re wrong.” Knowing it was now or never, Callie opened herself to her powers, allowing them to flow through her. “They give me a strength you never dreamed possible.”

Her father continued to watch the unfolding battle, a cold smile of anticipation touching his lips as one Sentinel fell beneath the onslaught, and then another.

Callie frantically closed her eyes, knowing she’d never be able to concentrate if she knew Duncan was injured. The only way to protect him was to wrench away her father’s command of the warriors.

Not bothering to try and control the natural power that flowed through her, Callie focused on the bond that spanned between herself and her father.

It is just like entering the mind of the dead, she assured herself.

Slip in, take command, and ...

Well, she didn’t know what happened after that, but she was about to find out.

Aiming directly at the bond, Callie slid into the darkness, losing her touch with her physical body.

It felt oddly familiar.

Cool, peaceful.

The temptation of death.

Then, at last through the surface of the bond, she found the darkness separating.

She didn’t know what she expected.

The faces of the warriors. Or maybe her father. Or even the doorway to the underworld.

Instead it was the golden chalice that hovered directly before her eyes.

Of course.

The power didn’t flow from her father.

It came from her.

Her blood.

Her life force.

She only needed to reach out and grasp it.

Not allowing herself time to consider the pertinent fact she’d never used her powers to do anything but search the memories of the dead, she focused on the blood pooled in the bottom of the goblet.

At first she felt nothing.

She could sense the power, but she had no way to know how to gain command of it.

Tentatively reaching out with her power, she brushed it over the chalice. The breath rushed from her lungs as she touched the minds of the warriors.

There was a startled curse from Lord Zakhar as he belatedly sensed her intrusion.

“What are you doing?” he snarled, grasping her shoulders in a grip that threatened to crush her bones.

Callie smiled through the pain as she opened her eyes and whispered one word.

“Stop.”

Duncan didn’t need to be a trained soldier to know the battle wasn’t going well.

His first clue came when he’d pumped his entire clip of bullets into the nearest intruder and the warrior barely flinched.

Not good.

Not good at all.

Traditional weapons were obviously worthless against zombies.

Time to think outside the box.

Ducking to avoid the arrow that whizzed past his face, he darted to the side to grab the heavy chain that was coiled in the back of the jeep they’d taken to the edge of the large meadow.

He couldn’t kill the zombies, but he might be able to slow one or two of them down long enough for Fane to track down the necromancer.

He grimaced at the memory of his short but violent argument with the guardian Sentinel.

Duncan had claimed it was his right to go in search of Callie and kill the bastard who’d kidnapped her. Fane, however, had kindly pointed out that he was by far the superior tracker, not to mention he’d been trained for over a century by the most fearsome warriors ever born.

And oh yeah, he was impervious to magic.

Duncan might have continued the argument—he was nothing if not obstinate—but Fane had simply melted into the darkness and disappeared.

Jackass.

Now Duncan was forced to hold back the encroaching zombies and pray that Fane was as good as he thought he was.

Another arrow flew past his face, and with an infuriated roar, Duncan whirled the chain like a lasso, watching it wrap around the nearest zombie’s legs.

The creature fell to the ground and a slender female witch darted forward, chanting a spell that bound the creature in a shimmering dome of magic.

It wouldn’t last.