“Yes.” The speculative smile on Lilith’s face appeared genuine. “But the opportunity exists to make more zombies. You could raise a whole new army here.”
The thought sickened Warren slightly. He hadn’t thought as much about things like that when he’d been working with Merihim. He’d feared for his own life too much to acknowledge the lives of others.
Sometimes, when he was certain he was alone—which was seldom, between Naomi’s and Lilith’s attentions—he felt badly about how things had turned out with his roommate, Kelli. She’d never been a true friend, but upon occasion she’d been kind to him.
After his first encounter with Merihim, when he’d been burned and scarred by the demon, Warren had usurped Kelli’s will and made her his keeper. Even after she’d died, he’d resurrected her and kept her to watch over him. She had until the day he’d destroyed her when she’d tried to harm Naomi.
Warren didn’t want to kill the people in front of them. Several were old, and many were not much more than children.
“You’re soft,” Lilith chided.
“I don’t have to kill them,” Warren responded.
“What?” Naomi stepped closer to him. “What did you say?”
The zombies grew restless.
Warren addressed the man with the shotgun. “We don’t mean you any harm. We come in peace.”
“Maybe so, but you’ll go in pieces if you come any farther,” the man grated. “We’ve got our own place out here, and we don’t want anyone from outside coming around.”
“We’re just passing through.”
“Not tonight, you aren’t. You’d best just shove off and find another way to get where you’re going.”
“All right,” Warren said. “Can you recommend a direction?”
The man hesitated. “Depends on where you’re going.”
Warren glanced at Lilith.
Her frown showed she was clearly unhappy with his choice of actions. “Deeper into the marshlands.”
Warren relayed the information.
“You’d be better off waiting till morning,” the man said. “Those marshlands can be tricky. Especially by moonlight. And we’ve heard stories about the things that live out there.”
“What kinds of things?”
“You’ve got predators out there that fight for hunting territory. Wolves and the like. If not them, then lots of wild dogs that escaped from the city or from farms just outside London that were attacked by demons.”
“Doesn’t sound very hospitable,” Warren said.
“It isn’t.”
“We just want passage. A chance to get to some place dry to sleep tonight.”
“Anywhere but here.”
Warren sensed danger and turned to look back along the road they’d traveled. He spotted an owl gliding silently by. Curling his silver fist, he concentrated on the owl, then closed his eyes and reached for the nocturnal predator.
When Warren opened his eyes again, he peered through the owl’s eyes. Everything was in sharp relief, but it was in blacks, whites, and grays now instead of color leached by the silver moonlight. He also felt the owl’s hunger. Hunting victories had been meager of late.
Usurping control, Warren forced the owl to turn around and fly back along the way they’d come. The bird flew just over the treetops, maintaining a low profile so it couldn’t easily be seen. Its instincts for survival matched Warren’s.
Only a short distance away, a motley crew of demons—most scavenging imps sent from the city to explore and map the surrounding terrain—moved steadily along the trail left by the lumbering zombies. The grooves carved through the snow were easy to follow.
One of the imps lifted its arm.
For a moment Warren thought the demon intended to fire a weapon at him. Heart pounding, forgetting for the moment that he was a separate entity from the night predator, he turned the owl around automatically and sent it winging away.
Instead of a weapon, though, or at least instead of the pistol or rifle that Warren expected, a snake or eel uncurled from the demon’s arm and leaped into the air. It spread its wings and took flight.
The owl’s fear became Warren’s. They both tried to elude the impossible creature. Over the course of its life, the owl had never seen anything like the eel-thing. The demon was six or seven feet long, pallid, and had an oversized, muscular head the size of Warren’s fists put together. When the jaws opened to expose serrated fangs that glistened in the moonlight, the head looked even bigger.
Despite the owl’s graceful skill in the air, and its speed, it proved no match for the flying demon. It swiftly overtook the owl, sailed above, then struck downward.
Warren felt the demon’s fangs pierce the owl’s neck as if it were his own flesh. Burning poison coursed along his body, reaching and then stopping his heart. Paralyzed, the owl fell toward the snow-covered marshland as the demon tore gobbets of flesh from it and devoured them.
Returning to his own body, Warren discovered his heart pounded so fiercely he almost blacked out. He staggered and would have fallen if Naomi hadn’t stepped up to take him by the arm. Her strength surprised him, but he knew the demon transplants she’d done had changed her.
“Warren,” she hissed.
“Stay awake,” Lilith commanded. “If you don’t move, the demons will overtake us and kill you. Then we’re all lost.”
“I’m all right.” Although he wasn’t sure if he could stand on his own, Warren shrugged out of Naomi’s grip. She let him go.
“What is it?” Naomi asked.
“Demons,” Warren gasped. “We’re being followed.”
Naomi gazed at him fearfully. “Why would they follow us?”
“I don’t know.” Warren looked at the people ahead of them.
“What’s wrong with your friend?” the man with the shotgun asked.
Warren pointed back in the direction they’d come. “We’re being followed by demons. They’ll be upon us in minutes.”
Frenzied curses broke out among the men. A few of them were of the opinion Warren should be shot on sight. Their way of thinking seemed to be gaining favor.
“I can help you,” Warren insisted.
“You?” the man challenged. “With the dead things you’ve got following you?”
“I have powers,” Warren replied.
“Demon’s powers,” someone said. “He’s a demon-lover. One of them that wants to be just like the demons. Ain’t no better than them,
