No, no, no, no, no!
Blood pooled in his mouth and rolled down his chin. When his eyes settled on Willow, a different pain bloomed inside him. If he didn’t survive this, she wouldn’t either. He couldn’t let her die in this town.They were supposed to have a future, a life, and happiness, and he was going to love her for eternity.
But even as he thought it, more blood spilled from his mouth, his step faltered, and the sword clattered against the sidewalk as it slipped from his hand.
Chapter Forty-Two
Willow was almostto the woods when she realized Declan wasn’t behind her anymore. Spinning, her heart lurched into her throat when she spotted him ten feet behind her. His knuckles rested on the sidewalk as he knelt there. The blood trickling from the corner of his mouth plopped onto the sidewalk, and when he hunched forward, she saw the bolt going through his back.
“No!”
She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but the word came out as a ferocious battle cry as she sprinted toward him. When Declan lifted his head, his red eyes met hers, and he shook his head as she fell to her knees beside him.
Her hands trembled as she rested them against his shoulder and leaned forward to inspect the bolt. Her heartbeat was a rapid staccato in her chest, and a coppery tang filled her mouth as it went dry.
Slow. Time was so slow yet so fast as it continued relentlessly onward. She’d give anything to turn back time for a few seconds, just a fewmeaslyseconds. It wasn’t so much to ask. It was only a moment of her life to have back so she could push him out of the way, warn him,savehim.
Not through his heart. Please don’t let it be through his heart!But as her hands flitted around the edge of the bolt, she couldn’t see how itmissedhis heart.Not a direct hit. He’d be dead if it was.
But it was enough of a hit that he was weakening as he lost blood. She slid her arm under his to lift him and carry him out of here, but it was already too late. She wouldn’t make it a foot before the Savages descended on them like a pack of wild jackals.
“Run,” Declan commanded.
Willow didn’t listen as she released him. “I’m sorry,” she said before she grasped the bolt and yanked it free.
Declan grunted as the wood tore from his flesh; his fingers spasmed on the pavement, and he coughed up a clot of blood that broke free of his lungs. He coughed out more blood as his body heaved and shuddered.
Willow kept her hand on Declan’s back as she removed a stake from inside her jacket. She didn’t know if he would survive, but if he died, then she would take as many of these assholes with her as possible before following him.
And then the Savages were on top of them.
Willow caught the first one that leapt at her and threw it aside. She backhanded the second away from her and spun to plunge her stake into the heart of the third. A fourth one hit her with the force of a charging bull.
Thrown backward by the impact, Willow somehow managed to land on her feet as another one came in low and wrapped its arms around her waist. Willow plunged her stake through its back and straight through its heart.
Yanking the weapon free, she twisted out of the arms of the dying creature as it slid down her legs to hit the ground. Fighting through the rush of monsters pouring around her, Willow shoved against them as she tried to get back to where Declan was struggling to his feet.
The hands grasping at her tore the sleeve of her jacket and yanked out a clump of her hair as she staked another. She lost sight of Declan when they swarmed her like a nest of pissed-off yellow jackets. As she removed her stake from her newest victim, another Savage delivered a bone-crushing blow to the side of her face.
Staggered by the punch, she stumbled sideways as a ringing sounded in her head. From the corner of her eye, she saw the swelling already forming on what she was positive was a broken cheekbone.
Ducking the next punch, she used her growing hatred for these things and her concern for Declan to fuel her as she slammed her hand into the Savage’s chest. The vamp’s eyes widened when she gripped his heart and tore it free. Before she could release the still-beating organ, three more Savages pounced on her.
When they drove her to her knees, the heart fell from her fingertips as she lunged at the legs of one of them. Encircling her arms around its calves, she yanked the creature off its feet. Another one grabbed her from behind; its hand tangled in her hair and ripped her backward. Willow bit back a scream as she tore at the fingers holding her and kicked at the group closing in on her.
She searched for Declan through the mass of monsters, but she still didn’t see him in the chaos.Please let him be okay.
Through the bond connecting them, she sought his mind and came up against a wall of nothing. Did that mean he was dead?
She didn’t realize the animalistic sounds filling her ears were coming from her as she snapped, kicked, and clawed at the Savages while an inward unraveling pushed her toward the brink of madness. She’d make them pay for touching him by tearing them apart. When she finished, she’d hunt down the demons and offer the mutilated bodies of their cohorts to them before killing them too.
Even if they hadn’t killed him, they’d hurt him, and she would make sure they paid for it. Tears stung her eyes as the Savage yanked on her hair. Twisting in his grasp, she ignored the hair he tore from her skull as she swung upward and plunged her stake up through his groin.
As he screamed, she yanked the stake free and sank it into his thigh; she ripped downward. Blood poured from the Savage’s shredded flesh as he released her and staggered back.
Feeling like a Savage herself, Willow bared her fangs at the Savage, who turned and limped away from her. She didn’t blame the creature for running; she was remorseless in her determination to find Declan. Even if he was dead, she had to touch him one more time.
Then, the sea of monsters parted, and she glimpsed Declan fighting off the group of Savages encircling him. If she wasn’t so determined to kill every one of them, she would have cried with relief. He was alive, and despite the blood soaking his shirt, he was fighting.
