James Rollins - Blood Infernal

Proving this to be true, another strigoi broke through and came at them.

But a flash of white shot through the air and tackled the thin form to the floor, raking its face and throat with silver claws, as if trying to erase Legion’s mark from that flesh.

Hugh grabbed Rhun’s elbow and shoved a rolled sheet of leathery vellum at him. “An ancient map, etched on calfskin. It will show you the way to the valley.”

Rhun accepted the scroll and shoved it through the belt of his pants to secure it. He then grabbed Erin around the waist, knowing there was only one way to survive this assault.

“We must jump,” he said.

Erin twisted in his grip, facing the dark church and the war inside. “Jordan…”

Rhun spotted the man, a rock in the middle of a black maelstrom. Jordan moved with incredible speed and ferocity, bleeding from a thousand cuts, spattering that darkness with his holy blood, burning and cutting a swath around him with his scythe.

But even the Warrior of Man could not stand long before such a storm.

As Rhun watched, Jordan collapsed to one knee, about to be swamped.

“We’ll get him,” Sophia said, waving to Elizabeth.

Hugh whistled, and from the shadows, the pack of black dogs appeared. “Defend them,” Hugh ordered, pointing to the two women. “The Warrior of Man must not fall.”

The pack took off with Sophia and Elizabeth.

Rhun tightened his hold on Erin. “They will not fail,” he promised her.

She stared up at him, her eyes shining with fear, but she trusted him enough to nod.

Across the way, a new figure emerged into the church, darker than the shadows, a black sculpture of a former friend.

Erin spotted that monster, too.

Legion wearing Leopold’s skin .

So the demon still lived.

Rhun did not wait and took the only path left to them.

He pulled Erin close, backed to the thunderous roar, and leaped out of the mountain.

Erin gasped at the icy cold, only to have the air pounded from her chest by the force of the water. She tumbled as she plummeted, but Rhun’s one arm was iron around her shoulders, his legs were steel around her lower waist, his cheek against hers.

Then they hit the pool below with an impact that jarred her every bone. They plunged deep, to where the waters grew dark. She sucked in water, choking. Then she felt herself propelled upward. Rhun kicked with his legs, but he kept his arm around her, never letting go.

They breached the surface, greeted by the roar of the falls.

She coughed out water, gasping great gulps of air.

Rhun dragged her toward the shoreline. She finally caught enough breath to kick and paddle on her own. They crawled on hands and knees out of the pool. She turned, sitting on a hip, staring upward. With the sun almost set behind the mountain, the waterfall was dark, hiding the church behind it.

“Jordan,” Erin choked out.

Rhun stood and staggered to their pile of clothing and gear. Erin recognized the wisdom of his action and followed, her limbs shaking from cold and fear. She grabbed her Colt 1911. The steel butt in her grip helped settle her.

Rhun recovered his silver karambit . “The sun will be down in minutes. We must go.”

“What about Jordan and the others?”

As if summoned by her words, a tangle of figures burst from the dark cascade. They fell through the air and crashed into the pool below, plunging deep. Erin rushed to the shore, searching the water, watching a storm of bubbles rise — then from the depths, a figure burst forth.

Elizabeth.

She dragged up the limp form of Jordan, rolling him to his back. He wasn’t moving. Blood spread around him, staining the blue waters like an oil slick. Lacerations and scratches crisscrossed his chest. White bone shone through one huge gaping wound.

Then Sophia popped into view behind them, pulling up the waterlogged form of the young lion. The cat paddled and thrashed, momentarily panicked, hacking out water. But the cub regained its wits and followed the others.

Erin waded in with Rhun to help pull Jordan out.

Jordan’s eyes stared up, shining blue but clearly seeing nothing.

Was he dead?

Then his chest heaved once, then again.

“He still lives,” Elizabeth said. “But his heart weakens with every beat.”

“She’s right,” Rhun said. “Even his miraculous healing might not be able to save him without help.”

Erin wished she had their senses, to hear his heart, to be even that much closer to Jordan.

Sophia pointed toward the dark forest and the lower slopes. “We must get off this mountain. Already the path is shadowed enough to allow Legion’s forces to hunt us down.”

A loud watery splash jerked them all around.

A massive black shape leaped into view through the falls, thick limbs outspread. Everyone backed away. Jordan remained sprawled on the banks of the pool, his blood still seeping into the water.

The huge figure hit the water not far from the shoreline, crashing only waist-deep, its muscular legs showing no effect from a fall from that height.

Erin lifted her Colt, pointing it at the chest of the blasphemare . She had spotted this creature earlier in the church, one of Hugh’s menagerie.

The black-coated mountain gorilla waded toward Jordan.

“Don’t,” Sophia said, pushing Erin’s arm down. “He remains uncorrupted. He was at Hugh’s side when we leaped out of the church.”

The gorilla scooped Jordan up and gently draped his bloody body over its shoulder. The beast made a chuffing noise, nudging the muzzle of his face forward.

“Hugh must have sent him to help us,” Sophia said.

“Then grab weapons,” Rhun ordered.

Sophia and Elizabeth quickly armed themselves. Erin took the strap of Jordan’s machine pistol and hung it around her neck.

For you to use when you’re better , she promised Jordan.

They fled across the meadow as a group, led by the gorilla, which loped ahead of them, knuckling his way through the grasses.

“What about Hugh?” Erin asked.

Elizabeth looked back, her face oddly mournful. “He would not abandon his flock.”

“He also intended to buy us time,” Sophia said, hurrying forward.

As they reached the tree line, screams rose behind them. A tumble of dark shapes burst out of the falls, like ants boiling out of a flooded hill.

Looks like we’re out of time.

Legion lifted his palm from the woman’s cheek, brushing the fall of blond hair from her face. He watched as her eyes became his. He could now see through her eyes to view the glory of his own face. He knew her name now, too, as her memories filled him.

Francesca .

Through scores of other eyes, he spied upon his hunters as they chased down their prey in the forest outside, heard their howls echoing down the mountain slopes.

Legion remained in the church, facing his own target.

By now, he owned all the beasts and strigoi in the chapel.

Save one.

The hermit faced him, his back against the wall, bloody but standing firm. No trace of fear marked his smooth face. His brown eyes gazed calmly into Legion’s.

“You can stop,” the man said. “Even now. Peace and forgiveness is not beyond anyone. Even you, a spirit of darkness.”

“You seek to absolve me,” Legion said, mirth rising inside him. “But I am beyond sin and damnation, so need no forgiveness. But for you”—he held up a hand—“let me take away your pain, your suffering, even your false sense of peace. You will find true serenity in mindless obedience. And in doing so, you will share with me all you know, all you told them.”