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Authors: Larissa Ione

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BOOK: The Demonica Compendium
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Dropping their weapons, E and Shade crossed the
room to Wraith. Shade pushed his brother's hair, matted
with blood, away from his face.

Oh, Gods. "E...oh, fuck."

Eidolon's face went ashen. "Those
bastards."
His voice
sounded as if it had been dredged up from the pits of hell. "They gouged out his eyes."

And that was only a small part of what they'd done to
him. Among other brutal acts, they'd opened him up from
groin to sternum. In several places, broken bone jutted
from between shredded muscle and tendon.

Shade bled fury through his pores. "Get him down," he
rasped. "Dear Gods, get him down."

"Hey, boys." Roag's voice drifted through the building.

"Where have you been?" Shade snarled, as Eidolon
began lowering Wraith's shattered body from the ceiling, the chains that held him clanging.

Roag sauntered toward them, kicking through the piles
of vampire dust, looking calmly at the two left alive. "You
two handled things well enough." He jerked his chin at
Wraith. "Looks like you found our long-lost little brother.
Not much left. Leave him. We'll go find the whore I just balled."

"Just keep an eye on the vamps," Eidolon snapped, his patience with Roag nearly as frayed as Shade's.

They lowered Wraith slowly and carefully. He didn't
move, and the only reason they knew he was alive was
because Shade had channeled his gift into his brother and
felt his heart beating weakly. His pulse had been too faint to feel with their fingers.

Wraith lay on the floor of the warehouse in a pool of
his own blood. Eidolon's
dermoire
glowed as he gripped
Wraith's wrist, but after a moment, he looked up and
shook his head.

"He's too far gone."

Shade knew that, could feel it, could see it in the mas
sive injuries that should have killed Wraith long before
this. "We have to try. Maybe we can find a doctor who
won't ask questions."

Roag shrugged. "We could nab one from a hospital and
force him to help. Kill him later so he doesn't talk. Want
me to go get one?"

He made it sound like he was going to stop in at the
corner grocer and pick up a loaf of bread.

"No human doctor can do what we can do." Eidolon's
shoulders slumped. "But it doesn't matter. He's not going
to make it another five minutes."

Roag picked up the blowtorch. "Can we kill the vamps
now?"

"Hell, yeah," Shade spat.

He shifted, prepared to rip the assholes apart, but froze
when Wraith's finger touched his knee. Not just his fin
ger, but his whole hand. Somehow, the guy had found the
strength to move his shattered arm and grip Shade's pants.
Shade brought his hand down on top of Wraith's.

Wraith's skin was icy, his hand shaking, but he managed to
squeeze, and in that slight motion, he conveyed his message.

He wanted to live.

Shade's gaze met Eidolon's. "We're going to save him.
Damn it all, we're going to try."

Eidolon didn't hesitate. He thumbed Wraith's swollen
upper lip, revealing two fangs. "He really is a vampire." He turned to their captives. "Does he feed?" When they just stared, he snarled.
"Does he feed?"

Uncle Vamp nodded grudgingly.

"Roag," Shade said, "go fetch that prostitute."

Roag grinned. "That's the spirit."

"Not for sex, you fucking lackbrain. We need her for
blood if Wraith needs to feed. And find us a doctor. You
can adjust his memories afterward. Go!" Shade expected
Roag to argue, and for a heartbeat Shade thought he might
have gone too far. Roag was prickly, generally listening
only to Eidolon. But maybe the two days of nonstop sex at
the pub had taken the piss
out of him, and he finally nod
ded sharply and headed out.

"Shade," Eidolon said quietly, as though he didn't want
Wraith to hear too much, "can you get inside him and
keep his blood moving while I try to mend his bones?"

"Have you done that before?"

"Once, when my sister broke her arm. But this is..."

Eidolon shook his head, and Shade understood. He
hated feeling helpless as much as Eidolon did. He'd never
done anything like this before. If he screwed up...

"Come on, Shade." Eidolon lay his palm on Wraith's
thigh, over one extremely nasty burn. "We have to do this."

Cursing, Shade gripped Wraith's hand and channeled
his gift into him, searching out his organs, probing for
injuries and weaknesses. E's
dermoire
lit up, and the
snapped shin bone jutting through Wraith's skin began
to knit together and ease back into place. Shade knew
for a fact that E's healing gift was extremely painful, but
Wraith didn't even stir. His heart stuttered, but Shade
forced it into a strong rhythm, and gradually, it began to
beat normally on its own.

When Eidolon was satisfied that he'd healed their
brother's bones, he gently tipped Wraith's face up, fury
darkening E's expression as he studied the empty eye
sockets.

And then, with the coldest smile Shade had ever
seen on anyone, he turned to the vampires. "Eeny meeny,
miny moe," he said, one finger going between the two,
and ending on the dark-haired one. Smoothly, deliber
ately, he picked up a shard of wood and crossed to the
vamps.

"Looks like today is your lucky day," he said, and
stabbed the dark-haired vamp through the chest. He didn't even wait for the male to start flaming before he moved to
Wraith's uncle, whose face was etched with terror.

Eidolon crouched and roughly gripped his jaw, tipping
it up so Eidolon's dark eyes locked with the vampire's blue
ones.

And Shade knew exactly what was about to happen.

Consciousness came to Wraith in bits and pieces, which
was pretty much what he felt like. He didn't wonder what
had happened, because his nightmares had played the
events of his capture and torture over and over. The only
question he had was how long he'd been down.

He opened his eyes. Blinked a few times.
Eyes.
He had
some.

"Hey." A dark-haired male peered into Wraith's face.
"I'm Shade. Your brother. You're at my place. Well, it's
Eidolon's place too. He's right here."

Another male moved to the side of the bed. "How are
you feeling?"

Wraith swallowed. His throat hurt. "Like some vam
pires strung me up and tortured me," he rasped. Swal
lowed again. "Why... why'd you save me?"

Eidolon seemed stumped by the question. "You're our
brother."

"So?"

Shade swore and cast a glance at Eidolon. "Great. Another Roag." He turned back to Wraith. "Roag's our
other brother. He's not here. Wasn't there while we were
putting you back together in the factory, either."

"Shade..."

"What? Fucker dropped off the doctor and a whore and
took off to find another prostitute."

"Doctor?" Wraith lifted his head, but when pain
clanged in his skull, he dropped it back onto the pillow.

Eidolon nodded. "It took some persuasion to get the
doctor to help, but once he stopped blubbering and pray
ing, he pitched in. He had to tack your intestines into
place and transfer some of Shade's blood into your body,
and that pulled you through. Hate to say it, but if not for the doc, you wouldn't have made it." He looked down at
his feet. "Shade and I couldn't have saved you without his
help."

Wraith still didn't get why they'd saved him, and hell,
he wasn't even sure he was grateful. "What... what hap
pened to the vampires?"

Shade bared his teeth. "They're dead."

Good. Wraith hoped their deaths had been slow and painful.

"We're going to let you get some rest," Eidolon said,
and Wraith felt a slow burn of panic, followed immedi
ately by shame that he was afraid to be alone.

Somehow, Eidolon knew. "We'll be in the next room.
One of us will always be here." His gaze locked with
Wraith's. "No one will hurt you like that again, brother.
You have my word."

No, no one would. Because once he was on his feet
again, he was going to
spend every waking moment train
ing. To kill. And then he was going to hunt vampires until
their kind was extinct.

"Hey," Shade said softly. "I recognize that look. Too
well. Just concentrate on getting better, and know we have
your back."

Wraith's brothers left the room, and as he watched
them leave, a strange, churning sensation filled his chest.
Hatred and bitterness took up the majority of the space,
but woven in there was something else... something he'd
never felt. Gratitude? Affection?

Maybe not the latter, but he appreciated what his broth
ers had done. And no matter what, he couldn't deny that, for the first time in his life, he didn't feel so alone.

Larissa Ione,
an Air Force veteran, has been a
meteorologist, EMT, and professional dog
trainer, often all at the same time. Yet she never
gave up on writing fiction, and is lucky enough
to now write full time.

Larissa lives a nomadic lifestyle with her
U.S. Coast Guard husband and son, though
she considers the Pacific Northwest her home.
An animal lover, she adopts any kind of ani
mal she finds, and has nursed back to health
anything from newborn mice to baby owls.
Not surprisingly, animals often appear in
her novels. For more about Larissa's books,
interests, and writing life, feel free to visit
her Web sites: www.LarissaIone.com and
www.SydneyCroft.com.

 

 

BOOK: The Demonica Compendium
10.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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