Chosen (The Chosen Few Trilogy #1) (23 page)

Just in time to see Ashka swing her heavy sword. In horror I
watched
it slice through the helpless vampire, Vipas, taking his arm, then his head.

Vipas collapsed in a heap. He was gone. Mai would likely be next, though she did not know it.

It was do-or-
die time. Felicia
was on
her feet, but was just standing there, head down, as if waiting for the death swing. My heart broke in two. My head spun in horror and terror and despair. The life-loving
Lycan had been defeated by empty
visions. Ashka now moved towards her, spinning the sword baton style
, grinning and snarling and slavering, the true epitom
e
of evil
.

Behind me, Belinda freed herself and fell to the concrete floor, groaning. I made a terrible, impossible choice. I took a deep breath
, and then
pr
epared to launch myself at this
creature as it geared up
to take another life.

I heard Johnny
Trevochet
’
s tortured voice.
“
Please! Don’t
leave my
wife!
”

Belinda crawled up beside me.
“
Go,
”

I dropped Natalie
Trevochet
’
s legs, heard the rope go taut, heard Johnny‘s scream. I launched myself forward. Natalie
’
s
cut-off shriek drove spears into my heart. I covered half the ground between the Destroyer and me in two seconds. I saw Lysette throw her gun into the air as I
barreled
past
,
and caught it
.

Caught it in the
perfect
firing position.

I fired. The bullet
missed Ashka, but
smashed into
her
sword and sent it flickering
end over end
into the wooden door behind her, where i
t stuck and quivered. Then, Mai
grabbed her legs. Felicia blinked, then screamed and turned lycan in less than a second
.
I have never seen so much unleashed fury as she morphed from sweet woman to
unrecognizable
wolf, teeth and jaws gnashing
,
eyes like
molten
lava
,
as she leapt upon the Destroyer.

But
Ashka moved frighteningly fast, turnin
g her hips as the lycan struck and
flinging her
off
across the floor. I saw Ashka’s eyes darting from side to side now as I lined up a second shot. The evil bitch was looking for a way out.

At tha
t moment another shadow
filled the doorway. I paused, unsure.

Lysette blinked at her, then cried out,
“
My God, that
’
s Tanya Jordan. She
’
s here!
”

T
he
woman who had already killed a
Destroyer.

Ashka didn
’
t waste another second.
S
he fired o
ff another
barrage of visions, designed, I
imagine, to knock us
off balance

And again it worked. A second later, when we all shook our heads and looked around, the Destroyer was gone.

“
Laters,
”
a disembodied voice floated
around the
silent warehouse.

I snapped my head around. How could I have left Natalie
Trevochet
to die like that? How could I have failed yet another?

“
Oh, God,
”

My eyes found Belinda
’
s. And my heart went out to her as I saw her standin
g, bleeding and
crying with the effort it took to hold Natalie
Trevochet
’
s frame so that the rope wouldn
’
t choke her to death.

Both women were alive though.

But Johnny
Trevochet
glared at me with undisguised hatred. My gut ached as I
realized
I had left his wife for dead.

I dropped
to my knees, letting the gun fall to the cold, hard floor. Everything I did, every act, even the best intentioned things, seemed to leave in their wake some dire consequence. Was it my doom to always gain with one hand but to lose with the other?

Was that my destiny?

3
5

YORK, ENGLAND

Ken Hamilton couldn
’
t take it any longer. Sitting around listening to the issue-filled
warbling
of Avril Lavigne whilst
‘
I no Engleesee
‘
-
boy, Kisami, tapped away at his handheld video game was not an image Ken wanted to put out there to the
ladies
. He
’
d made himself a strong chick-magnet already by offering to teach the little Jap a bit of Good Ole
’
American English. Kisami could now understand three of the ‘all-time great’ American words with utter confidence.

Dude-
because conversation started with a greeting.

Budweiser
-
because
everyone
needed fluids.

And
Underworld.
Because every dude should have a hot vampire chick to stare at whilst
he downed his Bud! Especially considering
the current circumstances.

Ken nodded to geek-boy and pointed to the door.
“
Outta here,
”

Geek-boy didn
’
t even look up.
“
Bud.
”

“
Loser,
”
Ken ran a
hand through his hair and headed into the hallway. It was getting on for midnight. Where the hell had Ryan wandered off to? It seemed like all the chicks had retired for the night, which, in truth, was okay by him. If he was being honest with himself he was fine with beach chicks, a Big Ten with college chicks, and a pure stud with most rock chicks.

But put him in a room with someone like Lysette Cohen, all sophistication and chic and Dior parties; or a more worldly, educated woman like D
evon Summers and he was
out of his depth.

So, he
’
d settled on Belinda, or maybe Felicia. Might be cool getting it on with a werewolf. Dangerous.
Unfortunately,
neither lucky candidate seemed to be home tonight.

Christ,
he thought.
Haven
’
t gotten laid since I left frisky
‘
frisco. Guess
it
s
ham instead of beaver tonight, man. Again.

Ken headed for the kitchen. He
’
d make a quick cheese-
mayo and grab a couple of cans. As he entered he noticed two people were already there. He paused at the threshold, his hand on the doorknob.

A tall, thin man stood by the fridge, his jet black eyes narrowing. Before two seconds had passed Ken
realized
those eyes were wrong. The evil that blasted out of them was palpable.

“
Greetings,
”
the tall man said.
“
I am Jondal.
”

Jondal?
Ken thought.
Where had he hea
r
d that name before?

“
We have come to cause mayhem
”
Jondal said
.
“
And to kill as many of you as we are able.
”
Jondal executed a perfect bow. The man’s frame was thin to the point of emaciation.

“
Jondal!
”
Ken shouted as
realization
struck. This man was a Destroyer, the one who had forced some losers in London to detonate a bomb.

Where the fuck was the panic button?

Then
Ken register
ed
the second person in the kitchen.
A
n
shockwave of recognition jolted through him.

“
Dementia!
”

“
The demon herself,
”
Jondal hissed in agreement.
“
For your
dying
pleasure.
”

D
ementia grinned
as she unsheathed the sword Ken had seen once before. He found himself transfixed by her white hair, tied and
braided with what looked like tiny
animal bones wrapped with
slivers of flesh; by the double-row of finger-bones that encircled her neck; by the metal that pierced her nose and the larger piece through her
neck.
Her eyes were slits of demonic
yellow,
glow
ing as if they were
windows that looked upon a hot, sulphuric soul.

“
How did you get in here?
”
he asked needlessly, stupidly. They were here. He should be running.

Jondal extended an arm as thin as a cane. The Destroyer’s bloodless lips moved soundlessly. Ken screamed and managed to turn away before the voices in his head told him to stop, to
kneel, to hang his head and just
…
wait
…

And the worst part, the abominable part, was that as he obeyed the voices in his head and knelt there
in submission, he was also
aware of Dementia moving towards him, and he knew what she was about to do.

He just couldn
’
t help himself.

Hands on your knees. You know
it
s
best. Nothing here for you now. Sit straight. Head up. No more struggle. No need to prove yourself. Just
…
wait
…for the salvation of the sword…

The tip of the swor
d pressed against his neck,
at the point where his blonde curls ended.

“
I missed you on the Golden Gate,
”
Dementia
’
s voice writhed around him like poisonous snakes.
“
I don
’
t miss twice.
”

“
Stop!
”
they were running up the corridor towards him now. The women.
Oh, God!
He had a momentary thought:
Good Lord, I
’
m already in heaven!
Then
Eleanor and Myleene and Devon
were sweeping past him,
followed by Ceriden and little Kisami, and the com
pulsion inside his head
collapsed.

Ken pitched face first to the floor. All hell broke loose around him. Screams stung the air.

Jondal
’
s voice rose in pitch. A woman
’
s
scream rang out.
Oh, Christ.
Ken thought.
That
’
s Eleanor!

“
No fucking way, man!
”
K
en leapt to his feet as
rage vanquished his fear. Eleanor was pure. She was an elf, one of the great people.
She was the Chosen’s
teacher.
 

Inside the kitchen
Dementia was holding everyone at b
ay, swinging her sword with
precision. The boiling yellow slits of her eyes gleamed as if she was having the time of her life.

It appeared
Eleanor had dragged open
a cutlery drawer. Then, she’d
jammed one of the paring knives through her wrist. Even now she was trying to twist the knife so it hurt her more, even as she screamed in agony and Devon tried to stop her.

Jondal, a tall emaciation of cruelty a
nd vile intent,
was leaning against the fridge as if needing its support, and flinging his arms out at people. His pow
er must be immense, for
everyone went down! Ken felt his throat close up in horror. The skeletal Destroyer was strong enough to strike everyone at once!