Chapter Eight

With bitter cold, snowdrifts everywhere, and an active blizzard impairing visibility, Ky slogged through the snow, one foot in front of the other. With each step, he tried to match the impression Roman left in front of him as if that would make his progress faster. He shuffled her against his chest. Probably should’ve let one of his brothers carry her, since he was too weak to handle it, but he felt this was his right. He didn’t want either of them touching her even if it’d be an impersonal transport.

“You really don’t have to carry me. I know you’re struggling,” she whispered.

“You have no shoes. I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” But she didn’t fight his hold. In fact, she seemed to burrow tighter against him. Her trust energized him, even though she might simply be taking advantage of whatever body heat she could.

He stopped to appreciate the moon as it peeked between clouds. He hadn’t seen it in person in longer than he cared to remember. He didn’t mind the cold burning his nose as he took a deep breath of freedom. “Look up, Vivi.”

She unburied her head to stare at the luminous full moon. “It’s incredible.”

“Move,” Roman ordered. “You can gawk at the world and all the shit you missed later. I get it, but head in the game to get out of here. Detonators go off in three minutes.”

Streetlights reflected on the newly fallen snow and lit up the iconic hundred-foot-tall Matryoshka doll, painted in the campy figures of three different female characters from each side in Manzhouli’s Matryoshka Square. The wind tunneled through Ky’s pants, sending a frigid, painful chill deep into his skin. He angled to hold Vivi tighter against him.

Pfft. Pfft. Pfft.

Gunshots. They all dove to the ground behind a snow-covered car.

Suppressed weapon. Coming from the north.

“Sorry,” he whispered to Vivi as they both wiped mucky snow off their hands. Ky couldn’t feel any extremity as he positioned Vivi beside him. Gloves would be useful. Vivi’s lips were a blue hue. He hugged her in an attempt to warm her, not that he felt like he contributed much heat.

“G…ggg…gunfire. Need weapons,” she chattered against him, her mouth rattling with cold shivers. Yet she was calm. The girl had training. Damn if he wasn’t impressed.

Six more random shots were fired. Ky wrapped himself around her tighter. Better if a bullet hit him than her. The tightness in his jaw and facial muscles hurt as protectiveness flared. The chill diminished.

Time to do what he was born to do and what was necessary to shield her and them.

He closed his eyes to block out all external sounds and mentally locate the shooters. One shooter’s heart fluttered. Ky detected the tremor of his hand. Not a professional. A second slightly to the northeast and up moved his weapon rapidly. The third shooter was quiet. Steady. This one would be the problem. He was the one to take out first.

His brothers often asked how he could pick up these details. They came in the vibrations of movement, the sound, and pure magical gut instinct. This ability to read threats was his gift, his magic, better than the telekinesis, which was useful in certain situations, but not always predictable.

The breathing of the first shooter accelerated and he pulled the rifle trigger. Ky shoved all three of them to the left, out of the line of fire. The car they hid behind shuddered, and snow flew off it from the bullet’s impact. In general, cars made for poor cover. Most bullets could pass through the metal, especially the kind of bullets these people were shooting.

“I know you’re not at your best, Ky, but we’re going to need you to work your magic to get us out of this one,” Roman whispered. He removed a collapsed rifle and its suppressor from his jacket. Must’ve been awkward for him to carry it, but seeing it sent a hum of pleasure through Ky.

“I’ll get it done.” He worried he was so dizzy he could barely stay upright. For her and his brothers, he’d get this done. Ky righted the rifle and screwed on the suppressor as he concentrated to reassess all shooters. “I need three bullets.”

Roman pulled bullets from his jacket pocket, counted out three, and handed them over.

“Flynn, I’m going to have to borrow St. Michael,” Ky said as he rolled the bullets in his palm. “Lost mine.”

Flynn removed the pendant and chain from around his neck, which Ky wrapped around his wrist. With the edge of the pendant he touched over his right shoulder, where he sensed the weird tattoo moving.

He brought the pendant close to his lips and whispered, “I am the gift. I do not miss. Be my protection against the evil.” His kissed the pendant. Calm descended over him with purpose and unwavering belief in both the patron saint of soldiers and in his own skill.

“Did you just call yourself the gift?” Vivi fought the wind to push hair off her face. She glanced at Roman and Flynn as if trying to read their reactions.

“Shh,” Flynn whispered. “Don’t make him lose focus. If he misses, we’re dead.”

Ky scooted to the edge of the car’s bumper before he addressed her. “I’m the monster they should fear. Not the hero. Never forget that.” He sensed for the three shooters again. “Flynn, I’m going to need your Glock in a sec. Make sure it’s got a round chambered.”

He put two bullets between his teeth and loaded one into the rifle. Another shot coming in. He shifted out of its way, lost his balance, and fell onto his side. He cursed, “Merlin’s beard.”

“Ky…” Roman hissed.

“Got it. Just a little dizzy.” He rose and aimed toward the corner of the campy painted doll icon. I am the gift.

Trigger pull. Pfft. One dead. No need to look for confirmation. He no longer heard the human’s heartbeat.

Second bullet loaded into his gun. He smelled the human shooter’s sweat as he calculated his distance in his head. He scooted around the bumper of the car to sight him.

I don’t miss.

Second trigger pull. Two dead.

The third sharpshooter was trickier. Higher off the ground. Third bullet loaded.

Protect me from the evil.

He surged upward to a stand, aimed, and shot at the sharpshooter. “Now, Flynn.”

The Glock came his way over the hood of the car. Four humans ran their way, shooting handguns at random out of panic. One. Two. Three. Four. All down.

None of his team injured. I’ve still got it.

He stumbled his way around the car and fell to his knees, ending in a wobble to the side. He bowed his head and kissed the pendant in thanks while listening for any movement. “I sense nothing. Anyone else?”

“Clear.” Roman squeezed his shoulder. “Good job. I know you’re hurting.”

“You got them all?” Vivi asked. Her tone meant what? Judgment? Didn’t sound impressed or full of pride.

“All dead.” A twinge of self-consciousness struck him. Should he feel guilty for having killed them? Should he feel something, even regret over the loss of life? He didn’t, which in his opinion is what made him a monster.

“That was fast.” She peeked around the car and didn’t seem angry he’d killed them.

Why was he questioning the rightness of what he’d done? It was them or the shooters.

The woman was making him nuts. He wanted her impressed by what he did, which was utterly ridiculous.

“What’s the plan? Are we going to run across the border if we can’t get to your car?” Ky asked.

“The Russian settlement of Zabaykalsk is right past those arches.” Roman nodded. “But no. We’re taking…” He glanced around the car they all still rested against. “The SUV is on the other side of the mall. About a thousand yards.” He pinned Ky with his eyes. “Any tracking devices on you or her that you’re aware of?”

Vivi shook her head.

Ky rubbed his side. “I was out of it a lot. They could’ve implanted something. I wouldn’t know. If I was them, I would’ve implanted something.”

Roman said, “We’ll get that figured out in a bit. We’re driving into Mongolia.”

“Farther into China?” Ky asked. “We need to get out of this country. It never treats us well.”

Flynn said, “The guards at the border are unfriendlies. Have to fly over it.”

Vivi perked up, even though she was still shivering. “I sense more humans coming.”

“I hear them, too.” Ky pulled her tremoring body back into him with one arm. He rested the rifle against his knee and held out his hand to Roman, wiggling his fingers.

Roman dropped bullets into his hand.

Ky listened and counted. “Six of them. They’re nervous, which means their aim will suck. Good for us.”

“Give me the Glock,” she said.

He handed it to her, distracted by the short German he remembered from inside the prison waltzing their way without fear. Anger detonated inside him. Just as he coiled to attack, Flynn grabbed his arm. “What’s he holding?”

“Oh, no…no, no, no,” Roman muttered. “Not tonight.” He pulled three amulets out of a pocket and threw one at each of them. “Put these on, now.”

Ky draped the talisman around his neck, then handed one to Vivi and whispered, “It’s protective.”

He peeked around the car again. “That cannot be what I think it is. The Curmsun Disc? It’s locked up. As in buried a quarter mile underground in England. Are there two of those cursed things on the planet?”

“What’s bad about it?” she asked.

“The disc inflicts its intended targets with terror until the person usually commits suicide to escape.”

“Someone stole it a few months ago, right at the time you disappeared,” Roman said. “I don’t know how. I don’t know when. We’ll talk about it later.”

Someone had successfully navigated the maze of tunnels in their headquarters to make it to the depository room, and the same person made it past the four sets of security doors, a sixteen-digit combination lock, and magical wards? Impossible. Had to be an inside job.

That meant their handler might be compromised.

The German called out, “You Arschlöcher, now die.” He began an incantation.

A blast detonated like an invisible energy bomb, throwing them several feet.

He blinked, his brain going in and out with dark spots. Voices around him.

“He’s bleeding bad.”

“Went through his fucking arm.”

“Ky, come on. Don’t pass out right now.”

Ky’s head complained as he oriented himself and pushed up to a sit in the snow. Vivi had his arm in a vise clamp.

“Piece of metal went through your arm.” Her brow wrinkled, and she bit her lower lip as blood flowed around her fingers. “I can’t…not again. It’d knock me out.”

“Don’t,” he whispered. “I’ll live. Can’t carry you, though.”

“We’re not equipped to deal with any of this today,” Roman said. “I need options.”

Flynn rocked his head back and forth and groaned. “I vote we take our chances and run for the car.”

“I can lay down cover fire while you two run and take Vivi with you,” Ky offered.

That got him two you’re-shitting-me stares from his brother and a no-way from Vivi.

Without a hint of uncertainty, Roman said, “Flynn and I are going to pull a Reykjavik, and you two will run for the car.” He pressed the keys into Ky’s hand. “I need you to be on your feet in ten seconds. You have to make it to the white Toyota SUV. Passing out isn’t an option, Ky. Getting shot or otherwise killed also isn’t acceptable after we risked our asses to get you out of that place.”

“Seriously? A Reykjavik?” Flynn said. “With a dude who’s holding that disc?”

“I’d have Ky do this instead of you, but he can barely stand, he’s bleeding again, and he’s distracted today,” Roman said.

“I’m not distracted,” he muttered.

Roman put a matchbox-sized explosive in Flynn’s hands. “No chitchat to engage him. I’ll put up an invisibility barrier to shield those two as they run to the car. Detonate and then we’ll bolt. Ky, pick us up at the northeast corner. Everyone, go!”

Vivi had to lift to get him on his feet. He muttered apologies twice. They shuffled toward the SUV at far slower than a run.

“Your feet,” Ky said.

“I’ll make it to the car.”

Roman waved his arms in a way indicating he was setting up the invisibility spell. Ky trusted his ability to keep them from being seen. Roman was the best at magic. It came instinctively to him, sort of like shooting did for Ky. Sometimes, Roman’s magic came inexplicably, as if his subconscious understood what spell was needed. Or as if some deity granted him the ability.

“Your brother just cast a spell? What the hell are you guys?” She paused to watch Roman.

“Monsters who chase far worse monsters,” he rasped out and tugged her into movement. Each step to the car wobbled his mind and took colossal effort.

“Good guys, though?”

“Eh. Good…bad…who’s to say?” He wheezed it out, since each breath hurt through his chest, probably from the cold.

“What’s a Reykjavik?” She shook him. “Talk to me. Stay alert.”

“Hold on.” They reached the SUV by some miracle. He slid into the driver’s seat.

“I should drive. You’re going to pass out at the wheel. Honestly, I don’t want to get this far and die in a car crash.”

“Roman doesn’t trust you.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I barely know you, Vivi, but I do trust you. These are my brothers. They need me to do this.”

The car revved to life with low enthusiasm in the cold. They couldn’t see what was going on in the square.

“What’s a Reykjavik?” she asked.

“Take off your socks, and put your feet in my lap to warm them, or better yet put them under my leg.” He felt her icy feet slide under his thigh. “We were in Reykjavik one time facing off against this ghoul, and we were totally getting our butts handed to us. Then Shane, our youngest brother who died two years ago, pulls this homemade pipe bomb out of his pocket and detonates it. Only Shane would have had something that crazy in his pocket. He was infatuated with explosives, almost fanatical about things that would blow up. Then he got possessed by a demon, which drove him batty in a bad way. He had moments of lucidity when he’d see into the future. Only glimpses, mind you, which allowed him to know the damndest things at the oddest times that were always perfect, like how to construct that pipe bomb. The explosion distracted the thing long enough so we could get out and regroup.”

“I want to finish the kiss,” she said softly. “If we live through this.”

Holy subject change. His mind was alert now.

“Me too,” he said.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” He squeezed one of her ankles.

“Drive!” She pointed out the windshield. “Your brothers are running, which means it’s about to—”

The car rocked with the force of the explosion.