With the sky overcast and the darkness of the night swallowing the terrain completely, Ethan stumbled a few times as he dashed toward the hotel where his truck waited for him. The small LED penlight he kept on his key ring barely penetrated the gloom, but it was enough to keep him from a bad fall.
The dilapidated hotel enshrouded in thick foliage loomed before him, foreboding in its appearance. Though Ethan had seen plenty of bizarre and downright creepy things in his life, he had never seen anything quite as terrifying as Bianca. Necromancers were rare and he had heard stories of their nightmarish powers his whole life, but had never witnessed their raw power. He could still feel the ragged hands of the dead scrabbling at his flesh. The mere memory sent shivers down his spine.
Clutching his pistol, he climbed over the fence lining the road and scurried onto the pavement. The road was empty, devoid of any traffic at such a late hour. Tossing a fearful look over his shoulder, he was relieved to see none of the zombies trailing him. He couldn't even see the farm house and graveyard beyond the line of trees.
Relieved, he fell to a swift walk toward the hotel. He should have known better than to take any job offered by one of The Summoner's offspring, but he had thought with the old necromancer dead there shouldn't be any major problems. He had been horribly wrong.
Ethan's duster fluttered around him, tossed by the wind whistling through the swaying trees. As he neared the hotel, he felt his spine stiffen. It was a small roadside motel, but it still reminded him of other haunted hotels he had encountered on his job. He could imagine all manner of ghosts staring out at him from the hollowed out windows.
Nearing the parking lot, he felt the knot in his shoulders begin to relax. He was almost to his truck. In a matter of minutes he would be safely on the road and away from this disaster. He would never again risk his life for an obscene paycheck if it was in any way connected to The Summoner.
Ethan rounded the corner of the building and felt relief fill him as his truck and camper came into view. Breaking into a run again, he headed toward the driver's side.
The bounty hunter never saw what hit him. One second he was almost to his truck, the next he was slammed into the side of the hotel. His nose burst on impact and his lips split against the hard surface. Crumpling to the ground, he let out a moan. He had lost his weapon in the assault, but he fumbled for his last gun tucked into his shoulder holster.
Something seized his head in a vice-like grip and he grunted, drawing his weapon. It clattered to the ground as his head was twisted brutally about, nearly tearing off his shoulders.
As Ethan died, his last thought was of the glowing eyes of The Summoner.
Amaliya thought stepping through the portal would be like stepping through a doorway. She was wrong. It felt like she was plunged into icy cold water, unable to determine which way was up or down, lost in an endless ocean of blackness, then her foot set down on the other side and she found herself facing the old hotel.
Remembering Aimee's instructions, she ducked away from the spot she had appeared just seconds before Cian appeared out of thin air. She was surprised to see no sign of the glowing blue oval doorway that had appeared in Zilker Park at Aimee's summoning.
Darting to one side, Cian barely avoided Eduardo. The coyote whirled around once, sniffing loudly, then jogged to Amaliya's side.
“That was a helluva ride,” he said, shivering.
Benchley appeared next and promptly threw up. His sister banged into him as she appeared, knocking him out of her way.
“Oh, fucking gross!” Alexia cried out as she stepped in the vomit.
Cian gripped her arm and swiftly yanked her aside as Benchley crawled away on all fours.
“That was not pleasant,” Eduardo said, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen.
Cian cast a glare at the man just seconds before Cassandra stumbled out of the empty air, clutching Aimee in her arms. They both fell to pavement, pulled down by Aimee's dead weight. They both narrowly avoided the puddle of Benchley's last meal.
Aimee had warned them that she would be completely drained after raising the portal. The young woman who looked strikingly similar to Cian anxiously checked the witch's pulse.
“She's okay....just knocked out,” Cassandra said in relief.
“Let me get her,” Cian said, and easily lifted Aimee into his arms.
“She needs water and protein,” Alexia said.
“Aimee, baby, wake up,” Cassandra called out, keeping pace with Cian as he carried Aimee to the gas station across the street.
“That's Ethan's,” Benchley said, pointing to the truck parked in front of the hotel.
“A reason to avoid it,” Eduardo decided.
Cian kicked open the door to the gas station and carried Aimee inside. Alexia scrambled ahead, clutching the bag Cassandra had given her earlier. Benchley, looking a bit green still, stood near the doorway, his pistol in his hands.
“I smell vampires,” Eduardo informed them, squatting before the door.
Amaliya pointed at her and Cian.
“No, other ones. And they smell worse than you two.”
Rolling her eyes, Amaliya rushed to help Alexia. The hunter removed a yoga mat from the bag that would have to do for a bed while Amaliya cleared some space on the floor. Once it was unrolled, Cian gently laid Aimee upon it.
Cassandra hovered over them, watching fretfully. Amaliya felt bad for her. She knew how she’d felt when she had witnessed Cian in a helpless state. Alexia patted the witch's cheeks, trying to rouse her.
“Wake up, babe,” Cass called out not too loudly.
Cian rose to his feet and headed toward the door. “We need to go, Cassandra.”
“I got her,” Alexia assured Cassandra. “I will take care of her.” The bag next to her was filled with protein bars, water, and weapons. Aimee set a shotgun at her side. “I’ve got blessed bullets.”
“I will keep them covered,” Benchley promised from his location near the door.
Cassandra nodded mutely, then scooted past Cian to fall to her knees beside Aimee. Stroking her girlfriend's hair, she leaned over to kiss her on the lips. “I'll be back, Aims.”
Amaliya looked away, feeling like she was intruding on the moment. She saw Cian also direct his attention elsewhere.
“She reminds me of you,” Amaliya confessed.
“Me too.” Cian gave her a slight smile.
Cassandra pushed past them. “Let's go.” Blades of silver glittered in her hands.
They were halfway across the street when Eduardo sniffed loudly, obviously catching a scent. Falling to his hands, he loped across the street reminding Amaliya of a dog. They tailed the coyote to the hotel. The old building held many bad memories for Amaliya, but she trusted Eduardo not to place them in a bad situation.
“Fresh kill,” Eduardo said around the many sharp teeth in his mouth as he looked back at them.
They found the body shoved into the bushes. It was a tall muscular man clad in a long duster. His head was nearly twisted off his body.
Cassandra drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Ethan,” she said.
Amaliya observed the truck for a second, then averted her gaze. Silver crosses imbedded into the rims and the doors pulsed in the darkness, hurting her eyes. “He almost made it.”
“This is what happens when you play with the wrong people,” Cass decided.
“We need to get to the graveyard,” Amaliya said urgently. The thought of her cousin or her grandmother suffering such a fate made her sick.
“Agreed.” Cian’s hand brushed hers lightly, his eyes locking with hers. “But we need to be cautious.”
Amaliya couldn't help but look at the broken body of Ethan Logan one last time. “I can't make any promises if they’ve hurt my family.”
Cian nodded in understanding.
The four of them broke into a run.
Samantha found it hard to walk through the thick woods behind the cemetery. The dry grass hid gnarled roots, deep dips in the forest floor, and broken branches. Without a flashlight or moonlight to brighten her path, she had to feel her way through the darkness.
Even though she was determined to be a bad ass vampire-kicking chick, tears were streaming down her face. She knew that Innocente was most likely dead, but she couldn't just let the older woman die alone if she was gravely injured.
Scratches covered her hands and face. She was also limping, since a root had sent her tumbling earlier. It was increasingly difficult to see the deeper into the woods she wandered. She wasn't even certain if she was headed in the right direction anymore.
A branch snapped against her shin and she strangled a cry in her throat. She didn’t want any of the dangerous creatures in the graveyard to hear her. Whimpering, she leaned against a tree.
If only she could see...
Samantha widened her eyes.
Wasn’t she a phasmagnus? Maybe someone could guide her. Mentally dropping her defenses, she gingerly searched for a ghost with her newfound powers. In her mind, she saw it like a controlled wave, weaving in and out around the tree trunks seeking out any spectral remains.
“Here I am,” a voice said.
The gentle touch of a hand rested on her shoulder. Samantha shot a frightened look over her shoulder. To her relief a tall, kindly-looking man with blond hair and blue eyes was gazing at her. He seemed untouched by the night, standing out sharply against the darkness.
