Page 14 of Walking in Darkness
Oh God. Pax was coming.
The car roared as he blazed across the field, coming directly for us.
The man was undeterred, his mind so gone to the evils that possessed him that he had no clue what was coming. “Little slut. You have no place. No power.”
Pax was right there, swerving back and forth from behind. His power surged, though it was trapped, held back as he waited for the right moment to strike.
I could almost hear him shouting in my head,Get clear. It will be my pleasure to do the rest.
The man slashed the knife toward me again, but his bike wobbled with the angle. He missed me by a foot, and he cursed as he struggled to regain his balance.
It gave me the chance to sidestep, and I shifted course, making another sharp turn.
One the monster was unprepared for. One that Pax used as the perfect opportunity.
He gunned it, the engine screaming as he flew across the dead grass of the winter field. He clipped the rear tire of the bicycle before he slammed on the brakes.
The man was thrown from his bike, and he arced through the air.
Suspended.
Flying over the top of the car.
Airborne for the longest time.
Finally, he smashed to the ground, as if gravity had suddenly sucked him down. He tumbled at least three times before he came to a stop face down.
The passenger door whipped open, and Pax shouted, “Get in!”
My attention darted once more to the fiend who’d come from out of nowhere—a stranger who’d been sent to hunt me—before I ripped myself from the shock and ran for the car. I dove into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.
Gasping, I looked out the passenger-side mirror in time to catch the man climbing to his feet.
During the fall the blade had impaled his side, and he ripped it out as if immune to the pain.
Barbarity filled his expression as he began to stumble our way.
Pax caught the action in the rearview mirror. “Motherfucker.”
Jaw clenched, he shoved the car into reverse and rammed his foot on the gas. The tires spun before they caught traction, and we flew backward.
Pax shifted around so he could watch out the back window, keeping his purposed trajectory.
The man lumbered forward, no self-preservation left, and we slammed directly into him with a loudthunk.
A scream tore out of me when the car jostled and bounced as we ran over him, and my hands shot up to cover my face as if it could shield me from the sight.
From the horror of what our lives had become.
Because there was no chance the man was ever getting up again.
Then Pax shifted into drive, peeling out as he ran over him again, going in the other direction. Once he was clear, he tore through the field and out onto the street, the back end fishtailing as we blazed down the street.
I hung on to the dash and the door handle, trying to regulate my breathing. To climb back to sanity.
Pax was ten minutes across town before he finally looked over at me, viciousness carved in every line of his face. “Couldn’t leave him, Aria. He would have gone for your family.”
I swallowed around the turmoil, and I looked at the man who raged in his seat. “I know.”
