Willing Sacrifice
Page 17

Torr picked up speed, grabbing Grace around the waist as he went. Her feet barely touched the ground as they ran. He could hear her rapid breathing, feel her muscles straining to keep up, but she was human, and that came with a potentially deadly set of limitations.
He tried to scan ahead for some kind of cover—a defensible location where he could hold them off. But the trees and undergrowth were too thick for him to see more than a few feet in front of them.
The sounds of glass crunching grew louder. A quick glance over his shoulder proved that the Hunters were definitely gaining on them.
“Just a little… farther,” panted Grace. “To… the right.”
He had no idea what she meant, but he trusted her, so he angled right, taking even more of her weight as he pushed his legs to pick up speed.
The Hunters were nearly on their heels. The thwack of leaves and branches being severed was right behind them. A few more seconds, and it would be him and Grace being cut to shreds.
Up ahead he saw bright orange sunlight. The sky. The trees were thinning out.
At least if they were in a clearing he could see these things coming at him—one wouldn’t be able to sneak around and attack him from behind while the other distracted him. He’d shove Grace up into a nearby tree where she would be relatively safe while he took the Hunters down.
The poorly timed fear of what might happen to her if he failed rippled through him, but he let it pass, giving it no weight or value. With none of his brothers here to help him, and Grace’s life on the line, his focus had to be absolute.
“Stop! Cliff!” she shouted in warning, just as what lay ahead came into view.
It wasn’t a clearing that awaited them. It was a steep drop down farther than he could see. The gap was several hundred feet wide—far too wide to jump.
Torr tightened his grip on Grace’s arm and hauled her sharply to the left. They landed hard, and her cry of pain tore away his concentration for a split second.
He gathered his wits enough to regain his feet, rather than seeing what was wrong with her. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until he dealt with the most pressing threat charging toward them. He lurched upright as one of the Hunters closed in for the kill.
Torr lifted his sword just in time for the creature to slam into him.
His blade sheared off a small chunk of translucent black rock. The thing screamed in pain, its voice sounding like glass grinding against stone.
The force of the blow rocked Torr back, but he kept his feet planted, knowing that Grace was on the ground right behind him. If he stepped back, not only could he hurt her, but it would put the Hunter that much closer to her.
A bone-chilling cold seeped out from the thing, freezing the sweat on his brow.
The second Hunter streaked by, its body gleaming obsidian and orange. A moment later it disappeared into the thick foliage. There was no question in his mind. The Hunter was positioning itself to charge. And they had only a few seconds before it happened.
“Get up a tree,” ordered Torr. He didn’t know if she was able to obey, if she was even conscious.
His blade was locked against the front ridge of the Hunter’s head. Its jaws were too small to do more than snap at him, and its arms and legs were too short to reach him. The real threat was its partner, who could slide in silently at any moment, killing them before Torr even knew it was there.
The chill this creature put out grew deeper, numbing his toes. It had taken only a couple of seconds, making him wonder how much time he had before his fingers became numb, too. If he couldn’t hold his sword, they were both dead.
He turned his blade until the flat of it was pressing against a serrated ridge of black glass. With one hand on the hilt and the other on the frigid blade, he used all his strength to shove the Hunter back into a thick tree.
The thing’s feet slid over the leaves. It snarled and fought, but Torr was strengthened by the knowledge that he was the only thing standing between Grace and death.
The tree’s metallic bark split around the Hunter’s narrow body. Torr kept pushing, ignoring the tingling cold in his hands.
The trunk opened as the Hunter’s wedge-shaped body was forced back into it. A layer of frost crept over the bark, and the clear sap that had leaked out began to crystallize as it froze. Wood creaked as the ice spread through the tree.
“The other one’s back,” yelled Grace.
Her voice, even as frightened as it was, was as sweet as angels singing. She was alive, conscious and still with him.
Until that second, he hadn’t realized just how terrified he’d been that he’d lost her again. He’d kept that fear below the surface, where it couldn’t affect his ability to fight, but it was there, lurking, waiting for a chance to defeat him.
Torr flicked a glance toward the sound of her voice. She wasn’t in a tree. She was leaning heavily against one, holding her head. Blood trickled out from her hand, staining the knotted cords decorating her fingers. Her skin was as white as bleached bones.
She was staring wide-eyed at something in the distance.
The second Hunter.
Torr eased away from the one he was fighting, making sure his plan had worked. The Hunter didn’t follow him up. It was stuck inside the tree, embedded in frozen sap. Its feet scrabbled against the ground to find traction, but as soon as it had dug furrows in the soft earth, it could no longer even reach the ground.
It wasn’t dead, but it was disabled, and that was enough for Torr to move on to the next target.
That next target was sailing toward him, leaving bits of leaf litter and branches in its wake. Torr was in a bad position—too close to the jaws of the trapped Hunter. Even a few steps back would put him close enough to be killed.
The second Hunter must have seen that.
So did Grace.
She waved her arms and shouted to draw its attention. “I’m over here!”
She sprinted away from Torr, her gait unsteady and way too slow.
One of the Hunter’s eyes tracked her movement, but the other stayed fixed on Torr. The deep cold that suddenly embraced him had nothing to do with the chill the Hunters put off.
He scrambled to reposition himself—to make himself a more tempting target than Grace, but it did no good. His shouts and flailing arms were no match for a sweet, unarmed human woman.
Torr charged the Hunter.
The creature charged Grace. Torr had been in enough battles to know how this one would play out. The Hunter would slam into her, slicing her in half instantly. Torr was too far away to do more than watch. No matter how hard he pushed his legs, the distance between them seemed to stretch out, leaving an impossible length to cover in a couple of seconds.