the
agimortus
to, and now he couldn’t afford the time it would take to hunt down one of the remaining few. Which left only humans as hosts. Humans, who would die within hours of receiving it.
It was possible, however, that if the human had been supernaturally enhanced, he would be stronger, last longer under the
agimortus’s
life-draining burden.
While he still had time, he closed his eyes and gulpedthe tiny vial of blood he’d taken from the hellhound after he’d flashed into the basement where he kept the pup and saw the human female’s disembodied spirit fleeing, a clear sign that she was bonded to the beast. His gut wrenched as the poison entered his belly, but awareness filtered through the nausea, hazy and distant. The human woman, Cara… he could feel her…
Light flashed before him, and the hoofbeats in his head became a raging thunder in his ears. Dressed in dull armor that creaked as his white warhorse galloped, Pestilence loosed an arrow.
Sestiel lurched to the side, but the arrow adjusted course like a guided missile and pierced him in the heart.
“You can run, but you’ll just die tired.” The Horseman’s shout reverberated off the mountain and brought stones and clumps of dirt raining down. “That’s a human military saying, but it’s so appropriate, don’t you think?”
Sestiel’s vision swam as a blood bay stallion leaped onto the scene through a veil of light, its rider guiding the beast with nothing but pressure from his knees and muscular thighs.
Ares
. In one hand, he bore a giant wood and iron shield, and in his other fist he clutched a sword. Rage smoldered in his ebony eyes.
“Stand down, brother!” Ares’s voice was a guttural roar. He swiveled his head to Sestiel. “Go. Now!”
The two stallions clashed, and Ares swung his great blade, but Sestiel didn’t wait around to see what happened.
Summoning his last gasp of energy, he flashed away, offering up a silent prayer for the poor soul who was about to receive his gift.
Seven
So this was York.
Cara had always wanted to see England, but not like this.
To finance the trip, she’d talked Dr. Happs into buying all of her veterinary equipment. Then she’d left Jeff a message that she might be on a wild goose chase, but that she was heading to England to find the source of their dreams.
Now she was wandering the walled city, having just finished dinner. It was too late to start the search for the house on Newland Park, but she wasn’t ready to head back to the B&B. Instead, she decided on a little sightseeing. Which was why, when she first saw the bloody man with the arrow impaled in his chest, she snapped a picture. But as the handsome blond actor stumbled down the middle of York’s famous Micklegate Street, something struck her as odd.
He looked very similar to the man she’d seen in her dream, the one who had tried to grab her when she was in the basement with Hal. Even odder, no one around her seemed to notice him. Soupy fog choked the streetlights and darkness had fallen, but it wasn’t
that
dark.
Gripping her cell phone tighter, she took a step back, alarm growing as the man came closer. In an awkward but lightning-quick move, he surged forward and grasped her shirt. Fear closed in on her, suffocating and ice cold as he slapped his palm against her chest. A burning sensation nearly ripped her apart, but she couldn’t scream through the pain.
Somehow, she wrenched herself away and slammed her fist into his face. As if he weighed no more than her own hundred and thirty pounds, he flew backward several yards, hit the pavement, and skidded into a light pole. She didn’t ponder how easy it had been to toss him like that, nor did she wait for him to get up. Spinning around, she scrambled toward the nearest pedestrian, but… something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
The pedestrian wasn’t moving. No one was moving. Every vehicle, every person had frozen.
In midstride.
A blinding light flashed… a
agimortus
to, and now he couldn’t afford the time it would take to hunt down one of the remaining few. Which left only humans as hosts. Humans, who would die within hours of receiving it.
It was possible, however, that if the human had been supernaturally enhanced, he would be stronger, last longer under the
agimortus’s
life-draining burden.
While he still had time, he closed his eyes and gulpedthe tiny vial of blood he’d taken from the hellhound after he’d flashed into the basement where he kept the pup and saw the human female’s disembodied spirit fleeing, a clear sign that she was bonded to the beast. His gut wrenched as the poison entered his belly, but awareness filtered through the nausea, hazy and distant. The human woman, Cara… he could feel her…
Light flashed before him, and the hoofbeats in his head became a raging thunder in his ears. Dressed in dull armor that creaked as his white warhorse galloped, Pestilence loosed an arrow.
Sestiel lurched to the side, but the arrow adjusted course like a guided missile and pierced him in the heart.
“You can run, but you’ll just die tired.” The Horseman’s shout reverberated off the mountain and brought stones and clumps of dirt raining down. “That’s a human military saying, but it’s so appropriate, don’t you think?”
Sestiel’s vision swam as a blood bay stallion leaped onto the scene through a veil of light, its rider guiding the beast with nothing but pressure from his knees and muscular thighs.
Ares
. In one hand, he bore a giant wood and iron shield, and in his other fist he clutched a sword. Rage smoldered in his ebony eyes.
“Stand down, brother!” Ares’s voice was a guttural roar. He swiveled his head to Sestiel. “Go. Now!”
The two stallions clashed, and Ares swung his great blade, but Sestiel didn’t wait around to see what happened.
Summoning his last gasp of energy, he flashed away, offering up a silent prayer for the poor soul who was about to receive his gift.
Seven
So this was York.
Cara had always wanted to see England, but not like this.
To finance the trip, she’d talked Dr. Happs into buying all of her veterinary equipment. Then she’d left Jeff a message that she might be on a wild goose chase, but that she was heading to England to find the source of their dreams.
Now she was wandering the walled city, having just finished dinner. It was too late to start the search for the house on Newland Park, but she wasn’t ready to head back to the B&B. Instead, she decided on a little sightseeing. Which was why, when she first saw the bloody man with the arrow impaled in his chest, she snapped a picture. But as the handsome blond actor stumbled down the middle of York’s famous Micklegate Street, something struck her as odd.
He looked very similar to the man she’d seen in her dream, the one who had tried to grab her when she was in the basement with Hal. Even odder, no one around her seemed to notice him. Soupy fog choked the streetlights and darkness had fallen, but it wasn’t
that
dark.
Gripping her cell phone tighter, she took a step back, alarm growing as the man came closer. In an awkward but lightning-quick move, he surged forward and grasped her shirt. Fear closed in on her, suffocating and ice cold as he slapped his palm against her chest. A burning sensation nearly ripped her apart, but she couldn’t scream through the pain.
Somehow, she wrenched herself away and slammed her fist into his face. As if he weighed no more than her own hundred and thirty pounds, he flew backward several yards, hit the pavement, and skidded into a light pole. She didn’t ponder how easy it had been to toss him like that, nor did she wait for him to get up. Spinning around, she scrambled toward the nearest pedestrian, but… something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
The pedestrian wasn’t moving. No one was moving. Every vehicle, every person had frozen.
In midstride.
A blinding light flashed… a
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