Dark Harvest (Darkling Mage 2)

“You can pry it from his cold, dead hands,” Sterling snarled. He had snuck up behind Bastion, who was still fending off both sword and scabbard. Bastion turned to defend himself, but too late: Sterling’s fist landed on the back of his neck.

“Ack,” Bastion gurgled. He slumped to his knees.

“Vanitas, enough,” I shouted, and the sword stopped its assault bare inches from Bastion’s face. He slid back into his scabbard then hovered to me wordlessly. I tucked him back into my knapsack, an odd sense of dread building in my chest.

“Bastion!” Prudence ducked under another swipe of Gil’s talons, then sprinted to Bastion’s side. She fell to her knees, catching him in her arms just before he crashed to the ground.

The barrier around us gleamed, then flickered, then faded. The dome was gone.

“Now,” Sterling hissed, tugging on my jacket.

“Wait,” I said. Bastion wasn’t moving. Prudence was breathing quickly, fiddling with a phone in her hand.

“We need to get out of here before more of the Lorica shows up,” Gil said. His talons had retracted into his body, but his fingers were still ragged and bloody.

“Is he going to be okay?” I heard myself say, as if from a distance.

Prudence eyed me coldly, then sighed. “You should run. He’s unconscious, but – ”

Gil was already gone. “I’m out,” Sterling said, before vanishing in a silver streak, dashing off into the night.

“I’m sorry,” I told Prudence.

“Yeah,” she said, stroking Bastion’s forehead. “Me too.”

I stepped into the darkness.

Chapter 8

“You could have killed him,” I said.

Sterling picked under his nails. “I fail to see your point.” Against the grimy interiors of Mama Rosa’s Finest Filipino Food, even with his clothes and hair a little torn and tousled, Sterling’s pallor made him stand out like a beacon.

“You knocked him out flat.” I was trying to focus on the beer in my hand, but even a nice, frosty San Miguel straight out of Mama Rosa’s fridge wasn’t enough to cool me off.

“And you were charging him down with a sword. You know what, you’d think I’d get a little more thanks for getting us all out of there. And if you think it was easy for me to just pop my bones back into place after he basically crushed me to a pulp – ”

Carver cleared his throat. It was enough to silence us both. “Sterling did what he had to do to facilitate your escape, Dustin. Don’t be so hard on him.”

Sterling smirked. I scowled.

“About time, too,” Gil grumbled. He had a raw, chilled steak over his eye. I remembered him pulling it out of the freezer to thaw earlier that day. Dude must have been saving it for dinner before Prudence roughed him all the way up. “That chick did a number on me. She might have broken something. What was her name again?”

“Prudence,” I said. “Prudence Leung.”

“Interesting. And kind of fitting. I just know how to hurt things, but she knew exactly what she was doing. Patient, looking for openings, timing her strikes and everything. Very skilled.”

“Years of experience. She’s legitimately a martial artist.”

“And it shows.” Gil winced as he lifted the steak off his face. He took a bite out of the corner, ripping at the raw meat with his teeth. “I’m honestly not that mad that she almost kicked my head off,” he said, chewing thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I’m honestly surprised you survived that.” I tried not to focus on the trail of red fluid dribbling down his chin. “How the hell did you manage to dodge her so consistently?”

“Werewolf reflexes, I guess?” He shrugged. “It was a matter of wearing her out so she couldn’t expend any more magic. I figured that out, at least.”

“Yeah, about werewolves.” I held my hands up, fingers extended. “What the hell was that all about with your nails? Talons?”

“Keeps me useful. I don’t have to wait for the full moon to get things done, if you catch my drift. Carver taught me how to do it. But I didn’t want to go full dog. I don’t exactly want the Lorica coming down on us. I wasn’t planning to kill her or anything.”