Edge of Hunger (32 page)

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Authors: Rhyannon Byrd

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Edge of Hunger
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He was so goddamn terrified of losing her, that he never wanted to let her go.

They stayed like that for long, endless moments, rocking gently together, the rumbling thunder the only backdrop of sound, until a sharp, guttural cry tore across the night, the eerie sound coming from the front of the house. Molly stiffened in his arms, and Ian grabbed her shoulders, setting her away from him.

Moving to his feet, he said, "It's time."

"OH, GOD," Molly gasped, her voice thick, eyes damp with a sudden wash of tears as she watched him move toward his duffel bag. He looked so calm...so focused, as if he weren't about to face the most frightening experience of his life.

He leaned down, taking out the cross and a long, wicked-looking knife that he held out to her, saying, "When I came here, I didn't plan on things working out the way they have. Now that I've fed, the Merrick should be able to hold its own with this asshole, and God willing, the cross will kill it. But if something goes wrong, the Casus is going to come after you. Use the knife, Molly. Do whatever you have to do, and then get the hell away from here."

"The cross will work, Ian. It has to."

"I meant what I said," he grunted, waiting for her to take the knife, before slipping the cross over his head. It glittered against the center of his chest, his only clothing the low-slung jeans that hung on his hips. His body looked lean and dark and dangerous, golden skin stretched tight over the hard, rippling power of his muscles. "If something goes wrong," he told her,

"you go out back, get in your car and get out of here. Drive straight to the airport and go back to Scott. He'll take care of you, Molly."

"Ian," she breathed out softly. He looked so vital, so strong and powerful, even more so than when she'd first set eyes on him only a week ago. And yet, she was terrified for him, knowing that he was about to face something so evil and vile it didn't belong in this world.

"Just do it, Molly. The only thing that matters here is that you make it out of this alive. That's why I brought this bastard here. No matter how this plays out, I want you safe."

She nodded, trembling with fear, and watched as he made his way toward the door. He reached for the handle, and his name burst from her lips. "Ian!"

He looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"I don't care what it takes," she whispered, "just kick his ass and make sure you come back to me."

For a moment, he just stared at her, those dark eyes swirling with devastating emotion, while he held completely, utterly still. Then he took a deep, shuddering breath, and quietly said,

"For what it's worth, Molls, I want you to know that I love you."

He held her gaze, reading the overwhelming rush of astonishment in her tear-drenched eyes, in the shivering of her body, and then he gave her a slow, wicked smile, and walked out into the night.

STEPPING OUT ONTO the front porch, Ian drew a deep breath into his lungs, and immediately found the Casus's foul, thick stench hanging on the air. Closing in. But he was ready. Ready to fight to save the life of the woman he loved.

And he did love her, more than he could have ever imagined. Her faith had changed him, and he could see now that it wasn't his control that had kept her safe when he'd fed from her that morning, enabling him to stop before he'd taken too much blood. It was because she meant something to him--because she meant everything to him--and he was going to do whatever it took to protect her.

Rather than fight the darkness that dwelled within him, as he'd been doing for so long, Ian was finally ready to embrace it. To surrender to its power, trusting it not only with his life but with Molly's, as well.

Rolling his neck across his shoulders, he moved down the porch steps, into the front yard, the cool blades of grass damp beneath his bare feet. A strange, eerie calm spread through him, his body hard...tight, senses perfectly attuned to every sound...every fraction of movement in the trees ahead. The Casus's scent thickened, and he could tell it was drawing closer. His fingers flexed at his sides...and he waited impatiently for the Merrick to rise within him, the cross warm against his chest, thrumming with power. And yet, when the creature stepped from the shelter of the woods, an evil, malicious smile curving its muzzled mouth...Ian still stood there as a man.

What the hell? Taking a deep breath, Ian reached for that primitive part of his nature, digging deep into the darkest recesses of his being. He could feel it there, roiling through his system like some primordial creature racing through an ancient loch, but no matter how desperately he tried, he couldn't reach deep enough to grab it. Couldn't get hold of it and rip it to the surface.

What in God's name was it waiting for?

"Anytime now," he growled under his breath, giving a frustrated roll of his shoulders, and the Casus came closer, its gray, grotesque body moving like something torn straight from the chilling depths of a nightmare. Ian stood his ground as it stalked forward, its pale, ice-blue gaze burning bright within the shadowed darkness, and it was like looking into hell itself, feeling its flames blistering your skin, melting you piece by piece in a slow, torturous burn.

Lifting its nose to the storm-damp air, it pulled in a deep, searching breath, and a guttural sound immediately vibrated in its throat like a demonic purr.

"Mmm. I can smell your little blond bitch inside the house," it rasped, the grated words strange within the muzzled shape of its mouth. "I have to admit, I was hoping she'd follow you here, Buchanan. I've had so much fun tearing your women to shreds, I wasn't about to let this one slip through my fingers. I'd planned to track her down once I finished with you, but this is going to be so much sweeter, with you here to watch our playtime."

Ian's lip curled as a deep, inhuman growl surged up from his chest in response to the bastard's taunting, and with a piercing burst of relief, he realized the Merrick was finally breaking free.

He almost smiled with feral satisfaction, until the first wave of pain ripped through him, tearing and sharp, like being turned inside out. His back arched, arms flung out wide at his sides, his muscles jerking in spasms, as if he were being electrocuted--and then it tore free in a violent, explosive force of rage.

Blood trailed over his hands as long, razor-sharp talons pierced through the tips of his fingers, his gums stinging as his fangs released with a sibilant hiss. He shook violently, teeth gnashing as the change rolled up from the soles of his feet, altering his body in an agonizing clutch of pain. Bones expanded, muscles bulging...enlarging, the ferocity of the transformation as terrifying as it was freeing in some strange, wonderful way. His chest heaved as the final stages of the change flowed through him, his facial bones cracking, altering the shape of his nose, flattening it against his face like an animal's.

"Merrick," the beast growled, and with a primitive roar of rage, Ian leaped through the air, slamming into its body so hard that they crashed to the ground and rolled across the slick grass. Snarling, he dug his talons into its ridged back, a stark howl erupting from the Casus's throat as it slashed out at him with its claws. He should have been ripped to pieces, but they slid over his skin without breaking the surface, and Ian shook his head, stunned to discover the cross was actually protecting him.

"Talisman," it sneered, eyeing the Marker as it pushed to its feet. It watched as Ian did the same, flexing its long, sinister claws at its sides, its ice-blue gaze burning with hatred.

Ready to bring this thing to an end, Ian grasped the heat of the cross, then tugged, breaking the velvet cord. He held the hot metal clasped tight between his thumb and fingers, wondering how he was supposed to make it work. How was he meant to use it as a weapon? He'd half expected it to transform into some kind of dagger or Ninja star. Something he could throw.

Even burst into flames like a fireball. But it did none of those things.

Arm of Fire? Like hell.

"There's no way you can win," the creature hissed, its deformed body moving around him in a slow circle, and Ian mirrored its movements, careful to keep it in front of him. Gritting his teeth, he wondered how long he was supposed to wait before shoving the Marker in his pocket and relying on his talons and fangs to rip the monster to pieces.

"I've waited too long for this," the Casus snarled, its long fangs gleaming in the pale shafts of moonlight breaking through the heavy storm clouds. "Centuries of time to prepare...to think about nothing but how good it was going to feel to take you down, Merrick. Don't think that little bit of metal is going to stop me now."

Come on...come on...Ian thought, rubbing his thumb against the etched surface of the cross, hoping for a miracle.

"But I won't kill you right away," it went on, its thin lips twisted in a malevolent smile. "I'm going to leave you bloody and broken, but breathing, just long enough for you to watch me get acquainted with your blond. Then you're going to give me what I need."

Ian's rage mounted in a vicious, visceral wave, magnified by the power of the Merrick, and a deep, guttural growl ripped from his chest, at the same time as the Casus charged him. It came at him in a flurry of hammering blows, striking him with its clawed hands as he fought to hold his ground.

Slashing back at it with his free hand, Ian sliced at its gut with his talons, drawing a hot spray of blood, but it just kept coming. Needing both his hands to fight off its attack, he tried to slip the cross in his back pocket, when the Casus aimed its long, curved claws at his wrist. Though the stunning blow didn't break Ian's skin, it hit with enough force to knock the cross out of his hand, onto the grass. In the next instant, the Casus's claws tore deep across his chest, making him cry out in pain.

"Mine," it snarled, taking him to the ground, the jarring impact jerking the air from his lungs.

Ian struggled to hold it off, but it was almost impossible. Despite the strength of his Merrick, the Casus was bigger...stronger. It snapped at his throat, his arms shaking as his Merrick used all its power to hold it at bay, but it wasn't enough. Its fangs sank deep into his shoulder, ripping flesh...muscle, cracking the bone. He roared as excruciating pain exploded through his system, white-hot and ravaging, while those lethal fangs tore at him again...and again.

With wide eyes, Ian stared death in the face, holding the creature's gaze, while his heart shattered at the agonizing knowledge that he'd failed to protect Molly. And then the Casus suddenly threw back its head and let out a bloodcurdling howl of suffering. Unbelieving, Ian watched as Molly slowly backed away from them, her eyes huge within her ghost-white face, the knife he'd left with her now buried in the beast's broad shoulder.

"Get inside!" he shouted, at the same time the Casus turned and backhanded her with a powerful swipe of its long arm, sending her flying onto her back. Ian roared her name, fighting to get his feet beneath him, while blood poured down his body, his shoulder a mangled, bloodied mess. The Casus leaped for Molly, pinning her to the ground, and Ian lurched forward, gnashing his teeth against the pain, but the world upended before he could reach her and he found himself sprawled facedown across the yard.

Molly's screams filled the air as the monster trapped her beneath its horrific body, and the Casus looked over its shoulder, sending him a slow, malicious smile. "Don't die yet, Merrick.

Not yet. I want you to enjoy the show."

Gritting his teeth, Ian dragged himself over the rain-soaked grass, determined to reach her...to protect her or die trying. He'd covered no more than a handful of feet, when a flash of metal glinted at the corner of his eye and he reached out with his right hand, his bloodied fingers clawing desperately at the damp earth. When his fingertips touched hot metal, he grabbed hold of the cross, clutching it in his fist, trapped against his palm...and the power of the Marker finally released. A blistering sensation, like a stunning jolt of electricity, instantly arced through his arm and radiated out through his body, the cross turning fiery hot as Ian roared at the sickening burn of pain. In the next instant, a fierce burst of energy shot through him, and he surged to his feet on an explosive wave of rage that propelled him toward the creature, his Merrick's powerful body crashing into the Casus and slamming it to the ground.

The burn in his palm grew hotter, melting his skin, as Ian used his talons to strike at the Casus's leathery flesh. It twisted away from him, slinking to its hands and feet, its gray body hunched as it scrambled away from him like a cornered animal, its pale eyes shocked wide with fear.

"Get back here, you bloody coward," Ian growled in a voice too deep and guttural to belong to a man. From the corner of his eye, he watched Molly stagger to her feet, the devastating flood of relief pouring through him so intense that he nearly went to his knees. He was going to take her into his arms and never let her go, holding on to her for the rest of his goddamn life--just as soon as he'd dealt with the bastard trying to sneak away from him. The night winds surged, carrying the thick scent of the Casus's fear to his nose, and Ian stalked toward it, the heat in his palm radiating up through his hand, into his forearm, as if liquid fire had been poured beneath his skin.

Gritting his teeth against the fierce burning sensation, he drew in a deep breath, and could have sworn he smelled...honeysuckle. What the...

You wear the mark, Ian.

The soft words whispered through his head like a cool, soothing breeze, and he pulled back his shoulders, keeping his eyes on the Casus, struggling to understand.

You wear the mark....

The mark? The cross was called a Marker. And he held the cross in his hand. But wearing it?

What did that mean?

And then the answer suddenly slammed into his brain with a staggering jolt of awareness, and he had it...knew exactly what he had to do. Charging toward the Casus, Ian tackled it to the ground, their bodies rolling over the grass, while Molly's screams for him to be careful filled the night. The beast snapped at him with its deadly jaws, but they no longer broke his flesh, its claws simply sliding across his skin, the protection of the talisman once more keeping him from harm. But even more amazing was the fact that his injuries no longer throbbed with pain, as if they didn't even exist.

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