equally stunned.
I grabbed for my gun: it wasn't there.
Dantalion was holding both my weapons.
Have to change that scenario.
But even as I lunged at him, he brought up my SIG and fired.
Luck rather than skill had caused me to dodge at the same time and the bullet punched through the space beneath my left armpit. I threw a looping right hook and drove my fist into his ribs. Dantalion was flung round by the force of the blow, but his left arm swept up and the Ka-bar slashed a line through my jacket. Dantalion stumbled away from me and I followed, chopping at his gun hand with the stiffened edge of my hand. My blow caught him on the mound of his forearm, shocking the radial nerve, and his hand opened in reflex spasm. The SIG clattered to the floor. It was out of reach for both of us and if I lunged for it I'd be inviting a knife in my back. So I threw a punch at his face instead.
Still under the influence of the drug, my punch was neither powerful, nor precise. I didn't knock him out, but I did flatten his nose against his face. Blood splattered, a torrent ran down his upper lip and into his mouth. He exhaled harshly, making droplets of his blood fleck my clothes.
He stabbed out at me and I grappled his arm. Holding his wrist with both my hands, I hauled him round even as I turned side on. His ankles bumped against my outstretched leg. It wasn't an expert judo throw, but it was enough to overbalance him and he went down to the floor. I fell on top of him, and loosening one hand from his wrist I drove my clawed fingers into his eyes.
Dantalion pushed me off him and I didn't have the strength to resist. We rolled away from each other. Then it was a fight to be first to our feet. Dantalion won and came at me, launching a kick into my ribs. I felt something crack and white hot pain flared through my body. He kicked again, but this time I hooked an arm round his heel and swept his leg high into the air. He toppled backwards and his fall took him almost to the edge of the platform. Then he rolled back towards me and I saw my own Ka-Bar glinting in his hand.
I had only one option. My SIG lay on the platform not half a dozen feet from Dantalion. We exchanged stares for less than a heartbeat, and then we were both rushing for the gun. Dantalion got to it first. He snatched at the SIG, even as he scythed the air in front of my throat with the knife.
But I'd never been going for the gun, I simply wanted him in a position where I could finish the bastard off. I leaped feet first at him. He fired, but he hadn't brought the gun round far enough and the bullet missed by a mile. Both my boots drove into his chest. I slapped down on the edge of the platform, my hip and right shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. It knocked the wind out of me, but nowhere near as much as my drop kick had done to Dantalion. He was thrown backwards, legs and arms windmilling as he disappeared over the edge of the platform. I heard the dull thud of him hitting the ground, but then there was silence. Painfully, I crawled to the edge of the platform. He was lying in a pool of light ten feet below me, squirming as though his spine had shattered during the fall.
I took stock of my surroundings.
I was in a large room that had once been a loading dock of some kind. A large roll-down shutter dominated one wall. It was partly open, letting in the harsh Florida sunlight. Glancing to my left, I saw a flight of metal steps leading down from the raised dais I was kneeling on. A guard rail would support me going down.
Down was where I wished to be.
Dantalion was injured, but he wasn't dead yet.
Pushing up to my feet, I again had to fight the disorienting effects of the drug in my body. The steps were a challenge, but I went down them hanging on to the rail, my feet clanging on the metal stairs. At the bottom I faced Dantalion.
Apparently his back wasn't broken.
He was on his hands and knees. His head swung up and he met my stare with a grim smile.
'I cannot die.'
'Want a bet?' I demanded as I moved towards him.
'Yes,' he said. Raising my SIG.
Suddenly all was sound and movement. The light went even harsher as the roller shutter was forced up and black-garbed men swarmed in. Laser scopes stabbed red beams through the room. Men shouted orders and commands.
I kept walking towards Dantalion and he rose up to meet me.
The gun was aimed at my face, but I just kept going.
Dantalion waited. Fisting both hands round my gun, he swayed where he stood, his legs braced wide. There was a book trailing on the floor behind him, attached to him by some kind of chain.
'Do not move!' someone shouted.
Neither of us was of a mind to listen.
Dantalion swung towards the FBI commandos swarming into the room and fired. The bullet passed above their heads, but it had them dropping for cover. Then he swung back towards me and a smile played across his lips.
One FBI man lifted his rifle and a red dot blossomed on Dantalion's chest.
'Drop your weapon or I will shoot,' yelled the commando.
'No you won't, asshole,' said a familiar voice. I heard the racking of a pump-action shotgun. The laser dipped away from Dantalion.
I didn't have to look to know that Rink was there.
Dantalion knew he was there as well. 'I owe you for ramming me off that bridge, Rink,' he said. 'Stick around and I'll kill you too.'
Rink laughed.
'He's all yours, Hunter,' my friend called.
I ran at Dantalion.
Dantalion jerked the trigger.
There was only the empty click of a firing pin in an equally empty chamber.
In my mind's eye I saw an innocent old lady lying dead on her table. I thought of Bradley brutally wounded. And, thinking of Marianne Dean — of what this beast intended doing to her — I barrelled into him with my shoulder, hooking my arms behind his knees, lifting and throwing him backwards at the same time. He slammed down on his back with me on top. The SIG went flying from his hand. I struck him in the chest with an elbow, holding him there even as I crawled up and sat astride him. His arms were free and he gouged at my face with his horrible fingernails, but it was futile. I drove my fist into his face, once, twice, three times.
His face was flecked with blood, and his pale eyes rolled up at me from swelling eyelids. His mouth opened in a grin and I saw tusk-like teeth. 'You're wasting your time, Hunter. I can't die. But you can.'
Peripherally, I caught the blur of movement. Men shouted and over the top of them all, I heard Rink's warning. My brain wasn't so clouded by drugs that it hindered my natural response.
I caught Dantalion's right wrist in my left hand. He continued to push, and he was surprisingly strong. The blade pressed against the flesh below my ribs. I felt the prickle of steel, but that only served my determination. Squeezing with all my might, I felt his bones grating together. The pale-faced bastard must have had something wrong with his bones, because I heard them snapping like green twigs.
Dantalion screamed. The knife fell from his nerveless hand.
'You can't die, huh? Let's see about that.'
I snatched at the book trailing like an abnormal appendage between his legs. It was attached to him by a silver chain and I wrenched it from him. He was stunned by the pain of his broken arm, but when he saw me holding his book, strength flared. He bucked upwards, grabbing at the book with both hands.
'Give it back!'
Hooking my heels under his kidneys, I rode him like a rodeo bronco. Then I slammed the book against the side of his head and jammed his face against the floor. He squirmed beneath me, spittle shooting from his mouth as he cursed me. His hands clawed towards my face again, so I grabbed his broken wrist and gave it an extra squeeze. He shrieked in agony. Both hands dropped on to the book and touched it spasmodically. I wrenched it from him.
'What's so fucking important about this damn thing?' I demanded. I flicked it open and saw nothing but row
