Page 108 of The Tracker's Dawn: Sunderverse
Mekare screamed with an inhuman quality. Bodies thudded to the floor inside and outside of the garage. I had once killed a single hybrid like this, and now I was killing hundreds. All at once. I felt their lives slip away through my link with the witch.
I relished their pain as they howled and twisted, their minds bombarded with more than they could handle.
A moment later, I felt empty. An uneasy quiet fell over me, a different kind of dawn. Through Mekare and the hybrids’ minds, I saw my life play out like a movie, memories of sound and sight, ecstasy of taste and touch. It had been a good life. I had experienced many things.
But most important of all, I had loved, and I would die loving. Fiercely and entirely.
My jaw went slack and released its hold on the witch. Staggering backward, my hind legs barely holding me up, I blinked through tear-filled eyes. For an instant, I saw nothing and imagined myself in limbo. Maybe heaven or more likely hell.
I continued to blink at the tears. My eyes finally cleared and took in the tableau of the witch and the immobile bodies of her hybrids strewn all around her statue-like shape.
My legs trembled and I collapsed, head swimming.
I’d done it. I’d stopped the hybrids, killed them.
And Mekare? I had... what? Turned her to stone?
To prove me wrong, the witch stirred and groaned as if waking from a long slumber.
No!
She wasn’t dead. I tried to stand, tried to attack once more, but I couldn’t move.
She glanced all around, her jaw going slack with incredulity at the sight of all her dead monsters. Judging by her reaction, she hadn’t been aware of what I was doing while I shot my entire being into her.
And yet, it hadn’t been enough.
She blinked and her dark eyes landed on me, shooting back all the hatred I’d given her. Shakily, I pushed to all fours. My joints shook and ached with the effort. I would fight her with my last breath.
“What have you done?!” she demanded, her voice wavering with fury.
I bared my teeth in a wolfish grin to rub in my satisfaction.
She shook her arms and grunted in anger, a weird action that she seemed to use to shake off her frustration. “It doesn’t matter. I will make more, and I will kill you and your mate...”
With dramatic flair, she cocked her head to one side and made a show of listening intently.
“Never mind,” she said with a grin. “He’s already dead. His heart stopped beating.”
No!
I whirled to face the table where Jake lay. He wasn’t moving, the twitching that had ravaged his body was gone and replaced by utter stillness. Forgetting all about Makare, I staggered to him. Lucia was still wrestling with the demon, pulling the last bit of its essence from the hole in Jake’s arm.
With stuttering slowness, I shifted, stretched to my full height to reach him, to lay my hands on his neck and search for a pulse. My fingers trembled as I extended my hand.
“Jake, Jake!”
“Don’t touch him!” Damien warned as my sister, at last, finished pulling Velthgrek out. The demon’s dark essence hovered in midair, pulsing as if in anger. The pentagram was totally gone, smeared by the scuffle.
But I didn’t care. I only cared about Jake.
I pressed two fingers to his neck. His skin was cold and clammy. There was no pulse. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
“Did the demon reach his heart?!” I asked, desperation sinking its teeth into my own heart.
“No,” Lucia said with certainty.
Relief flashed through me for a second, then I snatched the needle attached to the tubing and blood bag, quickly searched for a vein in his arm, and stabbed him. Next, I cupped my hands and pressed them to his chest to perform CPR, except I needed leverage. Clumsily, I climbed on the table and knelt by the edge.
