Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)
Yeah. I saw the elastic around his head, like. He snorted, and the sound reverberated sharply inside my head. And he was wearing these weird things around his feet that made him run funny.
Cloven-shaped heels for his shoes, perhaps? But why would someone adopt such a disguise when it was only more likely to catch the attention of anyone who might be watching?
"Why didn't you fight him, Mr. Johnson?"
I couldn't. He sprayed something into my face. The next thing I know, I'm up in these trees with a wire around my neck and the bastard is choking me.
Weakness began to pull at my muscles, and that meant I'd better hurry before he drained me too far. That was the one big fear I had - that these souls would drag me into the shadowy depths with them if I wasn't careful. And that dark part inside of me whispered that it might be easier, that eternal darkness was better than eternal pain.
But I couldn't do that to my brother or to Quinn. No matter how tempting it might seem.
Besides, Jack kept reassuring me that it wasn't likely to happen, even if no one really knew how far this skill would develop, let alone what dangers might be involved.
"So, Mr. Johnson, he approached you from the front rather than behind?"
Yeah, how else would I see him? He was slender and small, like, but he obviously packed a hell of a lot of muscle. He killed me in minutes flat.
Another clue that we were dealing with a nonhuman killer. "Is there anything else you can tell me, Mr. Johnson? Anything that would help us track him down quickly?"
He didn't answer immediately, but the energy flowing away from me seemed to sharpen. A tremor ran through my muscles and my knees suddenly felt weak.
Well, there was the car -
"Car? What type of car?" I interrupted quickly. "Did you see the plate number?"
The energy in the air sharpened yet again, making the small hairs along the nape of my neck and along my arms stand on end. The trembling in my muscles grew stronger, and I really didn't know how much longer I could hold out. Or if I wanted to hold out. I pressed a hand against a nearby tree trunk and tried to stay upright. Tried to fight the growing urge to go with the flow and let oblivion take me.
It was a Toyota Land Cruiser. Really battered, grayish in color. He paused. I only saw a little of the plate. The first three letters were BUK.
It was better than nothing, and would certainly narrow down the field. "Is there anything else you noticed?"
No. His voice was softer, but that was more than likely a result of the fatigue gnawing at my body. I didn't deserve to die like this.
I thought it likely he did but didn't voice the opinion, saying instead, "Go in peace, Mr. Johnson."
I don't want -
He might not want to, but I broke off the contact and sank down to my knees, my breath wheezing out of my lungs and every muscle quivering.
The chill of his presence still hung in the air, but I ignored it, concentrating on breathing, on getting some strength back.
Footsteps approached from behind, and a familiar, spicy scent wrapped around me. "Here," Cole said, shoving a thermos and a cup in front of me. "We decided we needed to keep a supply of the strong stuff handy in case you needed it."
"I think I love you."
"Too late," he replied, amusement in his voice. "My love is already taken."
"Overlooked again." I tried to say it lightly, but tiredness got the better of me and it came out somewhat harshly.
I grabbed the metal flask from him, unwinding the top and pouring the steaming liquid into the plastic cup. The aroma hit my nostrils and I sighed in pleasure. It wasn't hazelnut, but it smelled just fine.
"Did you get anything from our victim?" Cole asked.
I took a sip of coffee and felt the warmth of it begin to chase away the chill of afterlife. "He said his killer was disguised as a demon."
"Well, none of us actually thought we were dealing with a real demon." Cole's voice was amused. "I wouldn't imagine they'd need to use barbed wire, for a start."
Certainly the demons I'd met wouldn't, that was for sure. "He also gave me a partial plate number and a description of the car the attacker was driving."