Once on the main street, she scanned the area. Their eyes glowed out from around the corners of buildings, from roofs, from inside homes. Dozens of them.
There! Behind a home. Her gaze fell on an ordinary wood ax, wedged into a stump. She limped to it, tearing the ax free. Getting a good grip, she swung it, growing accustomed as she sized up her foes.
Wendigo stalked closer.
There would be no hacking with the ax—she couldn't afford to have her weapon get stuck in one of their bodies. No, she would use full-forced swings, taking their heads cleanly off their necks.
Just when the larger ones tensed to leap at her, night turned to day. The last mighty tower erupted in a plume of fire, bathing the valley in light.
The nocturnal, north-dwelling Wendigo shielded their eyes. As they hunched with wet hisses, she raced past the line of them.
She chanced a look behind her.
By the time she neared the edge of the town, she'd left them in the dust. Free! Still running, she passed the sign.
And slowed…
Three hundred and thirty-three villagers had sought to make a life here. There'd been no prosperity awaiting them—only terror, then gruesome, agonizing deaths.
They'd been lured here by a promise that was far different from the reality. Just like her.
Lured by the hope of a better life, or by the love of a demon—what did it matter?
She stopped, breaths fogging in the growing chill. The Wendigo thought another meal was here for them. A piercing fury bloomed within her. How would they like to be the prey for once?
Something inside her…
She turned back, surveying the town. Without the heat from the forge, flurries began to swirl.
The old Holly would be screaming that this wasn't rational. But she wasn't the old Holly.
Briefly setting down her ax, she wrung her clothes and hair out, then bashed the ice off an evergreen limb. She rubbed the needles all over her, disguising her scent.
She doubled back, creeping around buildings as she made her way to the chapel. At the entrance, she stole inside, her calculating gaze flickering over the boarded windows.
Ax in hand, she leapt up onto one of the exposed rafters. Crouching there, she slowed her breaths, calming her heart. Awaiting.
One by one, they entered, hunting, sensing her. She tilted her head, dispassionately eyeing her quarry as her foremothers had before her.
When the chapel was filled, a bolt of lightning flashed over the valley. The largest one finally craned its head up.
With a shriek, she dropped down between them and their only escape.
Cade forced open his eyes once more. She'd screamed, not in fear but in fury.
The blast had catapulted him all the way down to the valley. The impact mangled his body, splintering bones out from his thighs and forearms.
Why hadn't he been attacked by the Wendigo? Why weren't they attracted to the scent of his blood?
Though he couldn't yet stand, he would reach her somehow.
He'd fucking crawl to her if he had to.
Just as he was about to shove his femur back into place, he stilled.
It was still strapped to his back.
She'd swept death over this place. Yet she felt little of the satisfaction she'd expected, only gut-wrenching sadness from Cadeon's betrayal.
By the time she'd reached the edge of the town once more, her clothes and hair had frozen. Ice formed on her eyelashes.
As Holly turned in dazed circles, shuddering from cold and shock, she felt warmth from above. She raised her face in confusion.
They waved and floated so peacefully, calling to her, beckoning like opened arms.
Without thought, Holly ran headlong toward them, into the darkest wilds, with no other thought than to follow the lights….
46
Holly had eluded him for four days, but Cade was fast on her trail, hauling ass down a frozen road toward another mining town. He had even more of his crew scouring the countryside for her.
Cade had lost her in Prosperity that night. After finding a scene of carnage, Cade had realized the reason he hadn't been attacked by Wendigos was because she'd slaughtered every last one, unwittingly saving his life.
After that, she hadn't headed south as anyone else in her position would have. Had she gone in that direction, then she would've been trapped in the same bottleneck that had blocked his men.
Nor had she headed east, following the river or the road toward easier terrain.
She'd cannily headed northwest, straight into the heart of the mountains.
By chance, he stumbled upon her direction, having spied a miner with a black eye and a broken arm. The man had grown cagey when given Holly's description.
Apparently, she'd cleaned his clock.
Cade had broken the man's other arm for her trouble.
Once on her trail, Cade had been able to readily trace her movements because the men in the Territories remembered her. In the dead of winter, not many females were about, much less beautiful ones.
At the portage where the miner had previously stayed, Cade had been directed to the next town to the north. There, Holly had sold her watch for a single meal and a pair of snowshoes, then made her way on foot to another camp. Once she'd bunked through the worst of a storm, she'd begun hitching to the mining town Cade now sped to.
He believed he was only hours behind her—he'd find her there. The thought made him increase his speed even more.
She was out of money and had no one to call. She wouldn't contact her human friends and didn't have Nïx's number. Not that she would call her aunt anyway. Holly had to know that Nïx had been in on the scheme from the beginning.
Before, he hadn't really gotten the term 'hollow victory'—
