Knowing I can’t let it touch me, I make the first move with my dagger. I run down a few steps. The wendigo jumps down the steps, using its body to slam me into the wall but it grabs me around the neck. My dagger cuts through its arm, green blood pouring from the cut, but the wendigo doesn’t seem to notice.
He holds me tight as I struggle to get him off me, squeezing my neck. I have to fight to breathe. Suddenly, he freezes before me, roaring in pain, dropping my ass to the floor. Gasping for air, I look up to see Caspian is slamming two daggers into his back. The wendigo roars. The pressure he uses plasters me against the floor so I can’t move, but Caspian falls down the steps when he struggles to stand. The pressure instantly disappears as the wendigo runs up the stairs away from us, pouring blood in his wake. Caspian climbs the stairs to me and pulls me to my feet.
“You okay?” He sweeps his worried gaze over me and lifts my chin. “It touched you.”
“I’m fine. His magic must not be working or something,” I reply. Caspian pulls out a gun and I pick up my daggers I had dropped off the steps.
“Or something,” he replies, sounding doubtful.
We both start running after the wendigo, all the way up to the roof. I remember the letter in my room about the horns. Someone knew we were coming after the wendigo today. Could it be that they were telling me the truth?
We come out onto the roof where the wendigo stands on the edge, looking down at the city. Bat-like wings burst out from its back, and I know my chances of capturing him are disappearing. With my weapon gripped tightly in hand, I run straight across the roof.
“Lilith!”
Caspian’s voice echoes through me as I jump in the air, slamming my daggers into the wendigo’s back before it can get far. The blades slide all the way through him, not catching on anything, and he throws me off his back with a deafening shriek. I scream, too. I suddenly fly through the air, and the last thing I see is a bright-red light then everything goes black.
Chapter 13
Lilith Thornblood
I open my eyes to a dark figure slouched over me. Droplets of water splash against my collarbone and slide down my chest, soaking into my tee-shirt that’s already glued to my body. The coppery tang of blood hangs thick in the air, and there’s a light throbbing sensation in my side. It fades with each breath I drag in through dry, cracked lips.
“Where… am I?”
My voice leaves me, riding on a fractured whisper.
“In the land of the living, you’ll be glad to know.” The last of the pain vanishes just as Alaric’s deep, husky voice registers in my mind. “But more specifically, you’re in my room, in my bed, bleeding on my fucking blankets.”
Now that wakes me up.
I straighten so quickly that a rush of dizziness slams into me and my head hits the pillow again. Alaric chuckles and wipes a damp cloth over my temple. In the dim lighting, the harsh lines etched between his brows are as deep as the ones on his forehead. He’s either lost in thought or really, really pissed off.
“What happened after I jumped?” I ask, my voice still hoarse.
“You nearly died, that’s what happened,” he grumbles. “But don’t worry. I caught you before you leapt to your death.” He pulls back and dumps a bloodstained cloth into a bowl of water beside me. “I hate to break it to ya, kid, but you ain’t got no wings! The fuck did you think would happen when you hopped off that building?”
He stares at me so seriously that I struggle not to laugh.
There’s a flash of humour in his gaze, too, but he quickly replaces it with a serious expression again.
“What were you thinking?” he repeats, his tone laced with concern.
I straighten up in his bed and rest on my elbows. “I was thinking I could beat you on the leader board. The wendigo was a level-three demon.”
He stares hard at me, his dark eyes pinched. “You’re that competitive you’d risk dying, huh?”
I don’t even hesitate when I reply, “Of course am. I want to win. Why else would I be competing in the trials?”
Picking the bowl off the floor, he carries it over to the chest of drawers pushed up by the window. “Maybe the prince didn’t explain how the trials work, love, but you need to be alive to win. Remember that deal you and I made?”
I narrow my eyes at his back. “Deal? You mean blackmail.”
He holds up a hand, revealing the tattoo of a kelpie just below his thumb. I never noticed it before.
“Call it what you will,” he says gruffly. “But the deal requires you to be alive.” He turns and leans against the dresser, his arms folded over his muscular chest.
“What is it you want from me, Alaric?” The question is so quiet I scarcely hear the words myself.
The male studies me through half-opened lids. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Ooh, cryptic.” I snort at him, buttoning up my coat, though I can’t deny how his reply spiked my pulse a little.
He watches me adjust my clothing, his stare heavy.
“You know, my last mission was in Scotland,” I say, breaking the silence. “The human we met sounded a little like you, now that I think about it. Are you Scottish?”
“Aye.”
I grab my weapons from the side of the bed and tilt my head at him. “Are you from the Rivermare?”
He nods, and a dead silence follows the mute reply.
“I take it you’re not the sharing kind?” I get to my feet and smile at him. “Of course you’re not. My partner isn’t either. Wait a minute…” My smile fades. “Where’s Caspian? He was on the roof when I jumped.”
Alaric
