Dead of Winter Page 43
“Yeah. Got it.”
The pile heaved upward, lifting me and my horse! “What’s happening??”
A more forceful heave. The spooked mare reared; my numb legs, hands . . . I couldn’t keep my seat!
I tumbled out of the saddle. Landed on my back. Atop gunky corpses. Oh God, oh God.
The mare trotted a retreat, abandoning me in the carnage. No name for you!
The mat of bodies kept roiling like a bounce house.
“I’ve determined where the threat lies,” Aric called. “Empress, it’s beneath you.”
“What?”
A hand shot up, snatching my ponytail.
Just past my boots, two Bagger heads popped up.
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“Bagmen!” I screamed.
In a carefree tone, Aric answered, “Use your powers.”
I still hadn’t recharged them! I gripped my ponytail and jerked back from the clenched hand. Caught fast. “Any time you two feel like helping me!”
“The fuck you doing, Reaper?”
Aric had intercepted Jack, riding in front of him. “As soon as she needs assistance, I’ll be first into the fray.”
The pair of Baggers struggled to the surface, wedging their arms upward for leverage, their seeping, cream-colored eyes locked on my throat. They wriggled their slime-covered bodies free to their waists, like worms from a rotted apple.
How much longer before more emerged?
The skies chose that moment to open up, dumping buckets of rain. Blinking against water, spitting it, I cried, “Are you shitting me?”
The trapped Baggers lunged for me with so much force, their torsos shot back in recoil. Another lunge freed them to their upper thighs, extending their reach—just as the pile heaved, sending my body rolling toward the pair.
One caught my boot!
“Your powers,” Aric called.
“I can’t . . . seed anything in corpses!” I kicked against the creature’s hold. “And poison doesn’t . . . work on Bagmen!”
But my claws were as sharp as razors.
I twisted back and sliced the end of my ponytail off. The hand clutched the length like a prize.
Free to move, I dove toward the Bagger holding my boot, aiming my claws for his throat. He tucked his chin, chomping down, narrowly missing my fingers.
“Shit!”
“Come now, sievā, that is not how you’re meant to use your claws.”
“Ugh—you are such a dick!”
“Vines would work better.”
Suddenly an arrow jutted from one Bagger’s skull. Then the other. They slumped over. Jack must’ve fired right past Death’s head!
I scrambled to stand, tripping forward as the pile shuddered. A boil about to burst.
Aric finally moved out of the way, allowing Jack to ride toward me.
“Move your ass, bébé!” He offered his hand. When I managed to grab it, he hauled me into the saddle, spurring his horse. At my ear, he said, “A gem of a guy you got there, Evie.”
Once we’d made it to safety, Aric cast me a disappointed look. I was sick of guys giving me that expression!
To Jack, he said, “Whereas you view her as merely a girl, I’ve been on the receiving end of her powers. I’ve seen her shake the earth with fury, decimating populations. I know her for the goddess she is.” To me, he said, “I’ll go clean up the mess you made.”
“Wh-what mess?”
The boil burst.
Baggers wailed as they rose, shucking body parts out of their way. They turned toward us, snarling for our blood, creamy eyes unblinking in the rain.
Riding hands-free into the mob, Death drew both swords and attacked.
I’d watched his punishing training sessions, but the cold lethality on display astonished even me. He moved so fast, I could barely see his swords.
Just the results. In the rain, heads flew, bodies collapsed over each other, bone fragments and entrails spattered the air. Thanatos trampled some that hadn’t completely risen.
The clash lasted only minutes.
When Death returned, magnificent in his rain-slicked armor, he lifted his visor to narrow his eyes at Jack. The grueling tension between them only mounted. “It felt good to ride in and save her, didn’t it? Imagine how good she feels whenever she vanquishes her enemies—on her own.”
“Like a shadow, Evie,” Jack muttered as we approached our potential pit stop. The rain had turned to fog, painting the small cinder-block house in an eerie light.
He was tense, bow ready—because this might be a slavers’ den.
After three hours of passing one burned-out structure after another, I was so done in I’d rather face slavers than keep riding. The downpour earlier had soaked me through, and my teeth had chattered for miles.
At least it’d rinsed Bagger funk and corpse gore off me, like a car wash.
Jack had invited me to ride with him, but I’d said no. I doubted Death would approve. And Jack had confused me anyway. Why had his attitude toward me boomeranged?
We climbed the front stairs, Aric trailing us. “I’m surprised you’re amenable to stopping, mortal. With the clock and such. The Empress can ride with me, and we’ll continue toward Selena.”
“Even if there was a snowball’s chance in hell of Evie riding with you on that thing you call a horse,” Jack said, “we’re coming up on serious black-hat territory—which means our mounts need to be fresh.”
We’d pushed them all day. Not that Thanatos needed rest. Thanatos bench pressed three eighty and ate bricks for fun.