Challenged by Darkness (An Urban Fantasy Novel) (Befallen Tides series Book 2) (3 page)

Keaton blearily looked in their direction without real concern. His head was so foggy. So much had happened recently. The attacks. The deaths. The destruction of his home…

A hand stiffly wrapped around his upper arm. Keaton jerked from the contact and turned to see who had found him here.

Big green eyes met his. The sandy-haired newcomer was shorter than him, and her face was too cute to be intimidating. Even though she was glaring.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the girl whispered harshly.

Keaton’s glower lessened. His brows rose almost comically. “Sabrina?”

Sabrina Chase was a bandit like Keaton, and she was someone he’d come to know quite well over the years. Though their packs didn’t mingle, the two of them had become well acquainted.

And she’d found him falling asleep against a grimy lamppost.

“You’re breaking laws right now!” she hissed. “Revealing yourself like this? What are you thinking?”

Keaton was about to argue until Sabrina pointedly lifted his upper lip with her finger and let it flap against his fangs.  He sucked in a shocked breath. He hadn’t even noticed. When was the last time he had lost control in a public place?

“What are you doing here?” he growled. He shook his head to clear it of fogginess, and as he did so, his features returned to composed and normal.

“Not making a spectacle of myself.” Sabrina kept her grip on his arm and began to lead him away. “Come with me. I’ll give you shelter.”

Once upon a time, he would have willingly taken that offer. Sabrina wasn’t only attractive and good in bed; she was witty and fun. Being with her had been the closest thing to a relationship that he’d ever had. But the bandits mixing packs was always had the problem of where their loyalties fell, and that hadn’t changed.

“Wait.” He tugged his arm from her hold. “I can’t go with you.”

“Your pack. They’re gone, aren’t they?”

The accusation pulled at Keaton. “How would you know that?”

“You aren’t the only one who lost their family.”

So Sabrina was alone too. The smile that usually frequented her mouth had disappeared.

“What happened?” he asked.

She touched his chest, right over his heart. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”

Keaton looked over his shoulder, as if he could feel eyes on him. Then he looked back at her. The decision was a hard one.

“Please,” she said again, tugging his arm in her direction.

Powerless to his curiosity, he followed.

Darkness descended over the city. The owner of the B&B, a Doug Yertz, had yet to leave his office. His brow furrowed as he eyeballed the paperwork littering his desk until the picture of his family caught his eye. He smiled with a trace of longing and ran a finger along the edge of the frame.

A small black-and-white television to his right went fuzzy. Doug rapped the top sharply with his fist, but it did no good. When he slapped harder, the screen went dark altogether. Doug huffed in frustration and looked back down at his ledger.

Without the distraction of the TV, other sounds in the night grabbed Doug’s attention. He got up to look out his office window, but there was nothing in sight.

The jangle of the front door bells echoed around the foyer.

Doug froze. He peered out the double doors of his office and to the hall.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

There was no answer, but he could see the outline of someone standing beside the door. Doug finished putting on his coat and walked toward the front desk with a fake smile pasted to his face. “Welcome. Are you looking for a room?”

No reply.

Doug stayed behind the counter. “Sir? Or…ma’am? Is everything all right, or—”

“Do you have guests currently in your establishment?”

“Our services are available year-round.” Doug paused. “If you’re concerned about disturbances from other guests, our walls provide each customer with as much privacy as possible.”

“I’m searching for specific persons staying in your boarding house. Do you have a Winx Rowan currently residing here?”

Doug remained hesitant. “Are you a cop? Because if you’re looking for someone, I’ll have to see some ID.”

As the man looked up, Doug could just make out the crest of his smile. “You seem like an intelligent man, so I’ll make this clear. Tell me what I want to know, or say goodbye to your business.”

“I suggest you leave, or I’ll call the police.”

He laughed loudly. “You think I fear law enforcement? I could rip out your throat before dispatch contacted them.”

Doug fumbled for his gun, but once drawn, he held it steady. “Get out of here. Now.”

The intruder lifted a hand and opened the door. “Very well. I didn’t realize that was your play. You’ll know my next move soon enough.”

He slipped outside, and the room went silent as if no one had ever been there.

Doug hurried to the front door and locked every deadbolt. Then he rushed back to his desk and picked up the phone. He punched the first button repeatedly, but no service was available.  He took out his cell phone instead.

Before he could finish dialing, a crash echoed from the office behind him. Glass spattered from the entryway. Doug ran straight for the front door, and he tugged at the handles twice before remembering that he needed to unlock it.

Doug looked over his shoulder to the adversaries making their unsteady way inside. They were unmindful to the injuries sustained from crashing into the glass. They didn’t look… alive.

He wrenched the front door open only to come face-to-face with the same creatures pouring into his office.

The owner didn’t last long after that.

CHAPTER 3

Though Winx’s mind had been restless with fears, she somehow managed to sleep. She woke up to find that the room was dark, the clock said it was nine o’clock at night, and she was still exhausted.

As her eyes adjusted, she searched for Keaton. He wasn’t on the floor, or in bed with her, and it didn’t look like anyone was in the bathroom. She frowned. Where would Keaton have gone? She seriously doubted that he would have felt in the mood to visit with the lixyns down the hall.

But then again, who was she to check up on Keaton? He’d made it clear that he was only trying to help his pack and nothing more. She couldn’t blame him. If it were a choice of hanging around lixyns or getting back to her clan, she knew damn well what her decision would be. And to hell with the so-called consequences.

Winx pressed the heel of her hand against her brow, surprised that her headache was gone. Funny. Perhaps those pain pills were finally kicking in. A quick check revealed that, even though most of her injuries were numbing down, she was still far from the definition of good health. Too bad she couldn’t heal like Genevieve. She’d jump back into the action with a steel jaw.

For now, Winx slid beneath the covers with a lazy sigh.

Several minutes passed, but sleep eluded her. Damn, where the hell was Keaton? Attempting to not worry about him wasn’t working. And the effort became even more useless when she noticed the sounds. Scuffling feet. Harried breathing. Bodies brushing against each other back and forth… and then glass smashing somewhere downstairs.

Winx shot out of bed.

No. Anything but this.

It was so clear now. She could
feel
the savages. They tore into the hotel with the vengeance of the hungry. They sniffed about the halls and made their way unsteadily up the stairs.

They were coming.

A horrible scream echoed from downstairs. Her already thudding heartbeat seized.

Someone had just died.

Quickly dressing, Winx quietly walked barefoot to the door of her room. Opening it was the last thing she wanted to do, but the locks wouldn’t keep for long. Not with how many savages she could sense coming up the stairwell.

They were still a ways off yet. Slow creatures.

With light footsteps, she padded down the hall toward the other rooms. Genevieve’s door was close by, thankfully, and she nudged it open in lieu of knocking.

Surprisingly, it was already unlocked. Even more surprising than that, Genevieve was gone. Her mostly eaten breakfast was the only sign that there had been anyone in the quarters.

Winx invented some lurid curse words before backing out of her room and heading toward London’s. His room was a level higher than theirs, which meant more space between her and the stench advancing up the stairs. Once she made it onto the new landing, she ran to his door and pounded feverishly.

No answer. She tried the knob, but, unlike Genevieve’s room, this one was locked.

“Iragall! We have a big fucking problem!” she shouted at the frame. But no sound came from within. She couldn’t even feel the presence of someone on the other side ignoring her. London was gone as well.

A savage crashed toward her, mounting the stairs in an instant. He was little more than meat hanging onto bone. His eyes were white with blindness.

“Stop!” she demanded, utilizing her compulsion over the beast.

It kept right on coming.

Winx threw herself at him. She grabbed him by his ratty clothing and slammed him into the wall. His nails dug into her upper shoulders, and his mouth snapped, but Winx already had a good grip on his head. She shoved it repeatedly against the structure until she heard a gross cracking sound. The already decomposing body didn’t have much left protecting its brain, and soon, blood seeped down the wallpaper as he went immobile.

Winx let the body fall to the carpet and listened. That had stopped nothing. The rest of the horde was still coming, not too far behind the first, and anyone who could help her was gone. Keaton. Genevieve. Now London. She didn’t even hold out hope that Roy would still be around here.

How could they all have left her?

Winx ran up the spiraling staircases, and while the savages’ shuffling gait increased in speed,  she was still faster. The higher she climbed, the more she realized with terror that absolutely nobody else was in the B&B. She was all alone. No humans, no cryptids, just her and the fifty savages.

Had this been planned all along? Had she been purposely abandoned to be savage bait?

There weren’t many rooms, but she kept going until she came to a dead end.  Winx tried each door on either side of the hall. All were locked. Her face twisted in rage and tears.

“No,” she growled in her throat.

It was over.

The sound of her feet pounding on the stairs had attracted the beasts. They were making awful panting sounds in their haste to get to her flesh. Winx kept sending mental commands to the savages to turn back, but it was for nothing—they were already being controlled. And whoever was controlling them was strong.

Sobs began to sputter out of her, refusing to be held back. She was going to die here. The lixyns were gone. Keaton was gone. She was completely alone.

Winx tilted her head to the ceiling and raged.

Her yell ended before it truly began. A pulley hung from the ceiling, and Winx’s eyes widened when she spotted it. An attic?

She jumped.  Her hand was batted the rope, so she jumped again. When the first couple savages cleared the stairway, Winx jumped higher. Finally getting a grip on the handle, she clung to it with all of her weight and closed her eyes. If it was locked, she was dead.

It took some force, but the latch gave way, and a ladder dropped. Winx gasped with shock as she fell to the ground with the opening.

She was on her feet again in the span of a second, but the savages barreled toward her. Winx kicked out and caught one in the chest. He went soaring back into his partner. They were back up immediately, arms outstretched in preparation of grabbing her.

Wasting no more time, she raced up the ladder as more of the killers piled atop themselves.

A savage grabbed her ankle and tugged, and Winx slid down about three steps. She cried out as scratches and bites pierced her lower body. With a twist, she freed herself. Ascending was difficult, but Winx was strong and in no mood to be killed now that she had an escape route.  She pulled herself over the threshold and crawled back along the floorboards once she cleared it.

Looking down from her haven, she saw that the savages were an unorganized mess. It was hard for savages to climb anything vertical, but if they could climb stairs, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out a ladder, especially if they were being manipulated by something intelligent. But for now, she had breathing room.

Winx scooted back until she met a wall and leaned against it. New wounds coated her skin with fresh, warm blood. The bottoms of her feet felt like she’d walked across a yard of glass. But she was alive.

She looked around the attic for anything that could aid her. Mostly there were boxes of toiletries and old Christmas decorations, and she frantically threw aside useless boxes and crates in an effort to find something to protect herself.  When a box made it down the grate opening, it merely bounced off of the savages without hindering a single one of them.

Then she saw it.

In a dusty corner, behind a well-used volleyball set, was a large set of gardening shears.

Winx twisted them in her hands with a primitive, gleeful stare.  Thank whatever God or Gods that were merciful enough to have the groundskeeper put them with the holiday decorations.  They were heavy, very old, and had perfectly sharp blades. 

The savages were climbing again, making themselves available for culling, and Winx was ready to answer. She walked to the mouth of the attic and positioned the tool over the neck of an ascending savage.

With as much strength as she could muster, she closed the shears over the savage’s neck.

There was a crunch, and blood sprayed across her bare feet. She closed them again, and again, and it took six thrusts to completely sever the dead thing’s head from its shoulders.

Another savage crawled past the falling body of the first one. Winx placed the shears over his neck as well, but he was much stronger. She cut into his skin only once before he grabbed one of her legs and tugged her to the ground.

Winx yelped in shock as she hit the floor. Then that yelp turned into a screech when the savage bit deeply into the bone of her ankle. Mother
fucker
!