Riley nodded her head, half mesmerized by him. One would think that with a war party headed their way, led by zombies ...
"Ghouls," he corrected, in that same, soft, hypnotizing voice.
They were talking war, and her mind was hearing something else. That slow drawl, like molasses, warm and comforting. He exuded such confidence that she couldn't help but feel safe even when she was scared to death. He looked at her and touched her as if she was the most precious, beautiful woman in the world.
Dax had only known violence for most of his existence. He'd seen things most people couldn't comprehend and yet, with her, he was unfailingly gentle, tender even.
She nodded her head. "I can do this."
"I know you can," he agreed.
The cry of a bird and a shout from one of the villagers snapped them both back to attention. They turned to peer through the leafy wall and found that the first of the oncoming attackers had spilled like insects into the encampment clearing. Some of the attackers carried bloody spears and machetes; others held nothing but branches and rocks. Quickly they broke into two groups, each heading for one of the tents.
Riley watched as they tore the first tent to pieces. One of the eight, who had accompanied the first group, became enraged upon finding the tent empty. In a fit of fury, he shoved his spear through the closest person. Pools of black blood spilled out upon the ground as the wounded man screamed and fell to his knees.
Dax pulled her close. "Riley, go. You don't have to see this. I asked you to build the wall because most of the villagers from our camp came from the village Mitro destroyed. They don't need to see what I'm going to do, and you don't, either."
Her heart felt heavy, almost too heavy for her to bear what was going to happen. She studied his face. No expression. His eyes looking into hers, going almost blank. It was his heart she felt when he refused to feel it. Riley raised a hand to his face, cupping his jaw. "Do what you have to. I'm not going anywhere."
Dax's hand lingered for a moment, and then a chorus of bone-grinding noises rose from the gathered attackers. Dax pressed a quick, hard kiss on her lips, then turned and disappeared into a cloud of mist that blew through the foliage. Riley stepped close to the wall, and with a touch of her hand, the entangled branches parted so she could see through the wall to the encampment beyond. Her heart dropped as she realized every enraged face was turned her way, looking straight at her as if the dense thicket of leaves and branches was invisible. The group charged.
Riley stumbled back in fear, but then the men leading the charge tripped over something and went down hard. The ones who followed either were stumbled over or tried to jump their downed companions. Shocked, Riley moved back to the small hole she'd made in the wall. As she watched, a man jumped over one of the fallen, and was caught midleap by Dax, who was moving so fast, he was little more than a blur. His foot landed on the fallen man's neck, breaking it with a crack at the same time he snatched the other man out of the air. Bones crunched again as the leaping man's head twisted nearly 180 degrees. The limp body dropped to the ground; all she could see was a blur darting from one end of the encampment to another. And everywhere the blur went, bones cracked and bodies dropped like heavy sacks and did not move again. The trail of corpses made it easier to see where Dax had been rather than what he was doing.
He moved faster and faster, dispatching one possessed villager after another until there was no one left but the eight, scalp-bedecked leaders she had identified earlier. The killing field fell silent. Tears spilled from her eyes. The once-peaceful camp was now littered with bodies, men and women who would never return to the ones who loved them. Horror and sorrow at the loss of life welled up inside her. Then Dax returned to the center of the camp, and waited, alone and unafraid, as the eight leaders of the mob circled him.
Seeing them now with her own eyes, they appeared even more horrific than they had when she'd watched them through the forest's eyes. The bloody scalps of their previous victims bumped against their backs. Their faces had been painted in blood, their teeth filed to sharp points to match the skinless, sharpened bones of their fingertips.
Riley's fear overrode sorrow as Dax stood there, unmoving, calm and ready. Darkening clouds blocked the fading light of the sun, turning the sky a deep, awful red. The scene took on an even more nightmarish quality, with evil and death permeating the air beneath that blood-drenched sky. Wave after wave of foul corruption sped across the ground. She found herself rocking back and forth as each wave washed over her. Her swaying motion began to match the movement of the eight leaders.
One of the eight stepped closer to Dax. A trail of insects and black ichor spread out in his wake, shining darkly in the fading light. Even behind the relative safety of the tree wall, Riley's whole body shook with tremors. She wasn't afraid of insects, but she was terrified of those dropping from the ghouls. Her blood curdled at the thought of them crawling over her skin.
Riley wasn't sure what Dax was waiting for. The rate and magnitude of the spreading evil increased with each passing moment. Already, the flowers blossoming all over her plant wall had wilted and died. The eight were closing in, and Dax, with his back to her, seemed to be just standing there. Had his attack on all the others exhausted him? The sun was still up, even if it was hidden by the clouds. Surely, that drained him, too.
Suddenly, the eight leapt forward in unison, moving with speed she had not thought them capable of. Two leapt through the air above Dax. The others attacked from different angles.
A voiceless scream ripped through Riley. There was no way the creatures could miss. All eight were moving as fast as Dax had, bloody claws extended in preparation for their strike. Still, Dax continued to simply stand there. One of the creatures ran between Riley and Dax, obscuring her view. Her heart rose up in her throat.
"Dax!" Blinding light streaked down from the sky, slamming into the ground where Dax was standing. "No! Dax!" Dax! Blinded by the lightning, she gripped the intertwined branches and screamed his name.
She blinked furiously, trying to clear her vision, then stabbed her hands into the ground and took control of every creature she could find and used their eyes to replace her own. A broken sob escaped her lips when she realized he was still there, safe, standing near a pile of charred bodies and holding a ball of blue and white fire. Quickly he lifted the ball into the air and released it. The shining orb drifted upward like a balloon and moved toward the center of the clearing. The insects that had followed in the wake of the eight were moving rapidly forward, blanketing the ground with their scuttling forms.
A movement from above drew her attention. Still perched high in the branches overhead, Jubal was tying himself to the trunk of his tree. In the other large tree flanking what had been the tunnel through the living wall, Gary was doing the same. She looked back to the clearing. The pile of bodies near Dax began pulsating. A horde of insects erupted from the center of the pile, spilling down in every direction. One of the eight half shoved, half crawled his way out of the pile as well.
Dax raised a hand toward the ball in the sky and called, "Gary, whenever you're ready."
Riley had just enough time to look up and see Gary squeeze a detonator trigger before the encampment exploded. Dirt, rocks and bodies slammed into the tree wall as an enormous ball of flame roared out from the center of the camp. Riley screamed and ducked, instinctively covering her head with her arms. Then Dax was there beside her, shielding her body with his own, both of them facing away from the blast. For a moment, all she could do was cling to him and catch her breath.
The intense heat was still radiating from the blast point, but as the worst of the noise and debris died down, his tight hold on her loosened. Together, they turned to look back. To Riley's amazement, a wall of red and blue fire was raging in the center of the camp, but contained, as if trapped behind a wall of glass just at the edge of the tree line. She could see little blue-white streaks running up and down the outside of the invisible wall.
Dax pointed his right hand toward the firestorm and the wall pushed in on itself. Quickly, it retreated back, shrinking from the blaze and funneling the heat skyward. The fire shrank tighter and tighter until it closed in upon itself and disappeared altogether, leaving behind a barren stretch of charred ground devoid of all signs of battle. Riley stood up, staring at the blackened ground in surprise, realizing that the area had been completely cleansed. Every last hint of the evil that had permeated the ground was gone. Dax had destroyed it utterly.
Dax's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as they watched the remaining ash rain softly down on the scorched clearing. She leaned her head back against his chest and breathed in his clean, masculine scent. His arms were warm, so hard and solid. He made her feel safe and protected. She turned in his arms to look up at him in wonder. He also made her feel tiny, even delicate, which considering her height was no easy task.
Her eyes searched his face. The burnished skin, his strange multifaceted, burning eyes. The strong, masculine beauty that made her heart flutter every time she saw him. She laid a hand along the side of his face, brushing one thumb across his high cheekbone, marveling at how his skin felt. And how clean. There wasn't a smudge of dirt on him, while she could see just from her hands that she was a sooty, soil-covered mess.
"You're clean. You just took out an entire army, stood in the center of a blazing inferno, and there's not a speck of dirt on you. How is that possible? I can't walk two steps without getting filthy." Riley raised her hands, which were streaked with dirt and soot.
He smiled. Really, he had the most gorgeous smile. "There are certain gifts Carpathians have that can be quite handy." Without warning, the dirt, sweat and salty tracks of her dried tears evaporated from her skin. One second, she was a hot mess. The next, she looked like she'd stepped off the cover of a magazine, every hair in place, her skin smooth and fragrant, her clothes crisply pressed and sweet-smelling.