Marked

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Run!” Casey set Marissa on her feet and pushed the girl toward the ladder at the back of the loft. She could feel Marissa’s fear, but thankfully, the child didn’t question her.

Casey went down the ladder first, reaching up to pull Marissa the rest of the way to the ground. Outside, the frenzied growls of the daemons mixed with Theron’s grunts and the clash of weapon against flesh as they battled.

An instinct somewhere deep within urged Casey to go out front, to help Theron even though she knew that was pretty well useless. What could she do that he couldn’t? But oh, God, what if he was killed because she’d insisted they come here?

Don’t think like that. She flashed on the image of him battling the daemons in her store.

He knows what he’s doing.

Gripping Marissa’s hand tightly in hers, she tiptoed to the back of the barn. One peek confirmed the area surrounding them was empty. She eyed the trees, thirty yards away, that turned into woods sprawling up the side of the mountain, then contemplated the chances of running and not being seen.

More grunts resonated from the front of the building. A sharp cracking sound echoed around them. Marissa screamed as a body was thrown through the front of the barn door and crashed to the ground in a pile of hay and dirt.

Casey grabbed the girl and pulled her tight to her stomach, drowning the child’s cries as she jerked her into the shadows. One glimpse told her the body was Theron, but he bounded back up as if the blow hadn’t even fazed him and tore from the barn, throwing himself back into the battle.

Her heart was in her throat, but Casey lifted Marissa into her arms. “Wrap yourself around me and hold on tight.”

Marissa’s small head nodded against Casey’s neck. Casey took one deep breath, glanced back out the door to make sure the coast was clear and ran.

They tore across the back clearing at breakneck speed and made it almost as far as the trees before a daemon dropped out of nowhere in front of them.

Casey gasped and slammed on her brakes. The daemon’s eyes flashed green as he moved forward. He drew in a long, deep breath and said only one word.

“You.”

Casey pushed Marissa to the ground and stepped in front of the child, using her body as a shield. Wide-eyed, she reached for the knife at her lower leg with shaking hands.

The daemon chuckled, as if he found the entire scenario amusing. “You cannot stop me, half-breed. Atalanta is waiting for you.”

At that moment, Marissa let out the mother of all screams. The pitch was so high and loud, both Casey and the monster flinched and were momentarily frozen. The sound went on and on until finally Casey gave her head a shake and drew the knife as Theron had shown her.

The beast tensed as if to lunge.

Casey’s hand shook around the knife as the daemon charged. But before she felt impact, Theron leaped over her and slammed into the beast.

The two rolled, fists and fangs flying. The daemon got the upper hand and pinned Theron to the ground, pressing his massive leg into Theron’s chest with a mighty growl. Casey quickly realized Theron had lost his dagger when he’d crashed into the beast as it had lunged for her.

“Theron!”

He looked over just as she threw the spiked knife. It stuck into the ground a foot from his shoulder. His hand snaked out like lightning, even pinned beneath the daemon as he was. Then all Casey saw was the blade flashing in the sunlight. Blood spurted out of the daemon. Theron quickly flipped the monster to the ground and used the knife to decapitate it.

Casey pulled Marissa against her body so the child couldn’t see what was happening.

When it was over, Theron’s body was covered in a mixture of blood and sweat, and he was breathing heavy, but didn’t look injured. He took one step toward her just as a roar resounded from the front of the barn. Theron thrust the knife back into Casey’s hand and pushed her hard toward the trees. “Run!”

Casey didn’t hang around to ask questions. She grabbed Marissa and took off, heart rate thundering and adrenaline pumping.

Her legs burned and her lungs hurt like a bitch, but she didn’t slow. When Marissa cried “Minnie!” against Casey’s throat and threw out a hand, she only clutched the child tighter. She wasn’t going back for anything, especially a silly doll the girl had left behind. She ran hard and fast, around boulders and between trees, and didn’t slow until she couldn’t hear the battle below anymore and the only smell was that of pine and moss and the damp forest around her.

Marissa’s face was streaked with tears when Casey finally set her on the ground. The child crumpled into a ball against a rock. Comfort would come later. Right now all that mattered was finding a place to hide.

Still trying to draw air into her lungs, Casey surveyed the surroundings. The trees were thick, but ahead and to the left there appeared to be a rock formation that just might have enough space for them to hide.

She lifted Marissa into her arms again. “Come on, Marissa. We’re almost there.”

A grouping of boulders as tall as a man were lined up in a neat row. Between the first two, a small opening, big enough for someone to crawl through, looked like it led into the mountain.

Casey hated small spaces, but given the choice, she’d take a dank, dark cave over what was possibly hiding out here in the trees. She set Marissa at her feet and dropped to her knees. “In here, honey.”

Marissa hesitated. “It’s dark.”

“I know. But I’m right here.” Marissa glanced over her shoulder, clearly contemplating their options. Casey reached for her hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Marissa. After one more quick look, she fell to her knees and crawled through the space after Casey.

The tunnel was no higher than about four feet, but luckily, it wasn’t long. Ten yards in, Casey had the impression of soaring ceilings and a vast space. She pulled the small penlight Theron had given her earlier from her pocket and flicked it on. Then gasped at what she saw.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling in a rainbow of colors. The fifteen-foot round room was tall enough to stand in and avoid being stabbed at by those giant fanglike cave formations. Another smaller room opened off this one, but it didn’t seem to have any outside access. And luckily, aside from a few bugs Casey didn’t want to think about, both areas looked to be deserted.

Casey gripped Marissa’s hand and led her as far back into the mountain as she could, into the smaller room and around the corner, so if something did come into the first room searching for them, they wouldn’t be seen. After wrapping her jacket snuggly around Marissa, she settled back against the rocks with the child cradled in her arms.

Marissa sniffled and snuggled closer. “I miss Minnie,” she whispered.

“I know, honey.” Casey ran her hand down Marissa’s hair.

“Can’t we go back for her?”

“No, Marissa. It’s not safe.”

“Casey,” Marissa whispered in the silence. “Are you scared?”

Casey hesitated, then nodded as tears burned behind her closed eyes. “Yes, honey. I am.”

“Don’t be. Theron will come back for you.”

Casey drew a shaky breath. And thought about how quickly things could change. Hours ago she’d wanted only to get away from him. Now she prayed the child was right.

The scent of death hit Nick’s senses the second he killed the bike’s engine and pulled off his helmet.

Casey’s house was dark, but he knew even before he stepped inside what he’d find.

With a sinking stomach, he walked around the house and found the back doorframe shattered, the door itself hanging from its hinges. The kitchen was neat and orderly, but even here he could smell what lay farther inside.

He made himself cross the hardwood floor, his boots clunking with each step. When he reached the arched doorway that led into the living room, he stopped and swallowed the bile sliding up his throat.

The couch was slashed and overturned, the coffee table nothing more than a pile of kindling. Books and broken trinkets littered the floor, and in the middle of the mess lay Dana’s lifeless body.

“Ah, shit, Dana.”

He knelt beside her, scanning what was left. Dana’s wide, unfocused eyes stared up at the ceiling, and her face was bloody and bruised. One leg was cocked at an odd angle, the bone jutting through skin and denim alike, and bloodstained scratches marred most of her body. But the most disgusting thing—and that which Nick had suspected when he’d first come upon the house—was the gaping hole in the center of her chest where her heart used to be.

He ran a hand over his mouth, shut his eyes and cursed himself for walking out on her the other night. He’d sensed her death was coming, but he hadn’t done enough to protect her. If he’d driven her back to the colony himself, if he’d been more insistent…Dammit, if he’d opened his eyes and tuned in to her, she’d be alive now.

If is for shit. She’s dead, no thanks to you.

He opened his eyes and stared down at her. Their relationship had been warped on more than one front, but in his own way, he’d cared for her. More than maybe anyone else in his life. She’d understood him and his needs, and she’d never once said no, even when those needs had been pretty fucking twisted. And how had he repaid her? With this.

She’d accused him of having a god complex. He knew she was right. But even a god wouldn’t fuck up this bad.

The cell in his pocket vibrated. “What?” he answered.

“Nick, it’s Helene. We have a situation.”

He rose slowly to his feet as those fucking scars on his back began to tingle. “What’s happened now?”

“Marissa wandered off this morning. Search parties are out looking for her. But the woman you brought here yesterday? Casey? She and the Argonaut are out there now too. And they’re the only pair that hasn’t checked in yet.”

Nick’s hand tightened around the phone. “Fuck me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop her from going.”

“I’m on my way back.”

“Did you find Dana?”

Nick glanced down at Dana once more and buried the pain deep inside as he did every time one from his colony was killed. The anguish from her death would last longer than the rest, but he was half Argonaut. His son-of-a-bitch side would get over it soon enough. “I found her.”

“Is she—”

“Ready the fires, Helene.”

He closed the phone just as Helene began weeping.