Jewel of Atlantis - By Gena Showalter Page 0,5

had to make the most of it.

Be careful. Please, be careful.

So many emotions layered her words. Terror, regret, hope. Concern. Emotions he didn't understand and didn't have time to ponder.

Promise me.

"I give you my word," he answered, and then he tuned her out completely, unwilling to let her distract him from his purpose. If he wanted to win, he had to get in his zone - and stay there.

Sensing his needs, she said, I won't speak again until this is over.

Forming a large circle with the dynamite, Gray planted a stick next to each of the towering trunks. The breeze intensified, prancing with renewed life. Darkness approached steadily, threading gnarled fingers through the thickness of the trees. Adrenaline thundering through his veins, he anchored his night goggles over his eyes, the world dimming to reds and grays.

Dynamite in place. Check.

Gun in hand. Check.

Bullets loaded. Check.

Knife. He lifted the machete and hooked it to the waistband of his pants. Check.

All that remained was covering his body with a blanket of leaves, camouflaging him from the demon's view. But as he bent to gather the first leaf, a whiz sounded next to his ear, followed by a sulfur-scented wind and taunting laughter.

Too late.

The demon had arrived.

Mentally cursing, Gray crouched low and tightened his grip on his weapon. As he lay there, sweat dripped from his forehead and onto his goggles, momentarily shielding his line of vision. His head moved slowly, his eyes scanning from side to side, looking for a telltale blur of heat. Where the hell was it? Come on, show yourself.

Not finding a hint of the creature on land, he flicked a glance upward-and saw a figure speedily diving toward him, down, down. He didn't panic as it came closer. Closer still. No, he grew eager, anticipatory.

Almost here... Gray rolled out of the way a split second before contact. The demon crashed into the ground, and an evil hiss slithered through the night. Unfortunately the creature was up and hidden in the trees before he could fire off a shot.

"You want to play hide and seek," he shouted, "we'll play hide and seek. Come and get me, you ugly bastard." Gun pointing straight ahead, Gray jumped to his feet and ran. Ran toward the first cluster of dynamite, praying the demon followed. When he heard the rustle of a cloak and felt the warmth of breath on the back of his neck, he smiled with satisfaction.

Oh, yeah. The little shit had followed him.

As Gray passed the tree, he whipped around and aimed his gun. Boom! The bullet nailed the dynamite. Instantly fire spewed, and the tree exploded. The blast lifted Gray into the air, then slammed him onto the ground, shoving the air from his lungs. It did the same to the demon, and amid its howls of pain and fury, wooden shards and charred leaves rained.

He'd hit him, Gray knew, fighting for breath, but had he slowed him down?

An acrid stench and black smoke billowed around him as he pushed to his feet. Gray launched into a sprint, closing the distance between himself and the second cluster of dynamite. Infuriated, the demon followed once more; no longer playful and taunting, it stayed close on his heels. Saliva dripped from the too-white, too-sharp teeth, and onto Gray's neck.

Gray spun around and fired. Boom! The second cluster exploded, lighting up the shadows with orange-gold flames. A blast of pure heat swept over him; he went airborne again, but this time he expected it and hit the ground rolling. The demon propelled into another tree trunk, shrieking in rage and renewed pain, growling curses in a language Gray didn't understand.

Gray jolted up and started running.

Now! the female shouted inside his mind. Fire now!

He hadn't passed the third cluster yet, was just in front of it, in fact. If he fired now, he might barbecue himself. He aimed and fired anyway, diving for the ground.

Boom!

The impact threw him backward, and he covered his head with his hands. Waves of heat rolled over him, hotter than before, burning his clothes, his skin. A loud thump, then a gasp for breath echoed in his ears.

Unfolding from the ground, Gray readied his knife. He raced to the demon. The ugly bastard had slammed into another tree and now struggled to right himself. His eyes glowed a bright, eerie red. Horns protruded all over his scaly body. Without pausing for thought, Gray raised the blade and struck. Blood splattered.

Silence greeted him. The scent of rotting sulfur filled

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