tapped my nose. “You bet. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”
Reiko shook her head, clucking her tongue. “Don’t be stupid. Do you think I couldn’t handle the both of you? Ran, you’ve seen me fight. You know how strong I am, you know what kind of damage I can do.”
Ryder stepped forward, hands balled into fists. “Yeah, but she hasn’t seen what I could do.”
I had, back at the trap during the vampires meeting regarding Jason’s fate. He hadn’t done well, but I couldn’t bring myself to bring it up.
Reiko vanished in a whirl of silk and red cheeks and almost instantly, was astride Ryder’s chest, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.
Ryder screamed, long and loud.
“Ran! Go!”
I didn’t have to be told twice.
Heart pounding a mad tattoo in my chest, I rushed past the pair, trying to ignore the sickening sounds of impact that echoed in that narrow hallway, trying to ignore the stench of blood that was overwhelming enough to mask Jason’s sandlewood scent.
I wanted to look back.
But I couldn’t afford to. Not now. Not when he seemed so close.
He had to be down here.
I could feel it.
I could almost taste it.
I began to run, arms pumping, feet pounding on the rickety wooden floor that threatened to cave every time I took another step.
But I couldn’t stop now.
I would not stop now.
But I couldn’t find him.
Throwing caution to the wind, I drew in a deep breath and opened my mouth.
“Jason!”
If he could scream in pain, then he could scream for help.
At least…I hoped so.
“Jason!”
I think I have waited for you…
My vision wavered and I dashed the tears of frustration from my eyes as I pounded down the flight of stairs that lead into a cold, clammy basement that smelled like dead things.
Another scream.
To be my left.
Much closer.
I swerve around a wooden post and almost dashed headfirst into an old, dilapidated door that did not yield to the twisting of the tarnished golden knob.
I pressed an ear to the door and heard someone talking quietly. Then another voice.
Another scream.
I pounded on the door, kicked it, punched it, but it would not relent.
Jason screamed again.
It was him.
And he needed me.
I took a few steps back, adjusted the jian into the back strap Van had lent me, and rushed forward, left shoulder first.
If I broke my arm, then I would rather it be my left arm. Granted, I was ambidextrous, but no matter what anyone says, everyone has a stronger hand.
At the moment of impact, I closed my eyes and felt that curious weightlessness as I fell to the ground, the wood giving way under my charge, heard the splintering of wood, the screeching of hinges, the frenetic beating of my heart.
When I opened my eyes in the next second, I found myself staring at Jason’s pale, wan face contorted with pain, his bare chest covered in a river of blood that smelled like pennies.
Annabelle stood next to him, still dressed the same, only it was completely red.
Dyed in Jason’s blood.
My throat convulsed as I fought to keep my body under control.
Throwing up right before a rescue seemed so passé.
Her hand clenched around a thin, studded whip and her companion, a dark haired young man with a vertical scar over his left eye gaped at me.
Annabelle shrieked.
“Don’t just stand there! Get her!”
And now the moment of truth.
Could I use this borrowed sword just as well as the sword that had seen me through ten years of my life?
I would find out.
The hilt felt empty in my hand, lacking the braided cord, when I pulled it free of the sheath.
It was light.
And I could work with light.
The man stared at me. “But…but she’s got a sword!”
“Just do it!”
A human. He was just a human.
But responsible for Jason’s pain because his whip dripped blood as well.
He drew the whip back and when it snapped, I saw droplets of red splash through the air.
His face was drawn back in terror. The poor bastard didn’t have the faintest idea what to do. The only person who could’ve fought with a whip was Indiana Jones and he wasn’t even real.
But I was.
“Annabelle, I can’t—”
I ran him through.
It brought me that much closer to Annabelle, to Jason, to the man who shuddered like a wind-up doll on the end of the sword that had been surprisingly easy to wield.
With a sickening slick sound, I pulled the blade back and he fell to his knees, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
I wished I could have felt