The Hellhound's Un-Christmas Miracle - Zoe Chant Page 0,55
Beside Fleance, Sheena whined. He moved his weight so she could lean on him, but she stayed away, trembling.
He had to finish this. Everything Parker was feeling would be boiling through Sheena’s brain. She was strong, but he wouldn’t put her through a second more of that torture than was necessary.
*This is meant to be the lucky country,* Parker raged. *My luck! Mine for the taking!*
His eye rolled towards her and she flinched before he glared up at Fleance again. *Now,* he said, his voice bubbling with hatred.
Now?
*No! I won’t!*
Sheena’s voice crashed through his head. She cringed back and Parker slid away, insubstantial as smoke.
Keeping one eye on the other hellhound, Fleance turned to Sheena. *What’s wrong?*
Her eyes were wide with panic. He took a step closer to her and she snapped at him. If he hadn’t jumped back, she would have bitten his face.
*No!* she cried again, stumbling backwards on feet that seemed to be trying to stay locked in place. *Stop it!*
*I’m not going to sugarcoat it, kid. You should have seen this coming. I would have turned her even if she wasn’t your special girl, but now?*
Parker’s voice slithered against his mind. Fleance’s skin crawled. Caine described Parker’s mental presence as like chains, but Fleance had always felt it as vines, or tentacles, creeping Alien-like into his soul. He told himself that Parker couldn’t reach him now—his voice was slithering against his mind, not into it—but it didn’t stop his hellhound scratching the ground. He wasn’t sure whether it was trying to run at Parker or dig through the earth to escape him.
He couldn’t let that happen to Sheena. It had taken Parker weeks to break him; he hadn’t even managed to hold Caine for a day.
*You know the difference between you and me, Flea? I’ve got it figured out. I’ve got a growth mindset.* His voice was a hiss, searching for a gap in his mental defenses. *I’ve learned from my mistakes.*
What was he talking about? What did Parker have to figure out? Fleance’s hellhound growled fire as he turned his focus inwards, bulwarking the shields around his mind until there was no way Parker could get in.
His shields hummed as Parker said something, but they were so thick not even his words could make it through. He didn’t need telepathy to know the bastard was laughing.
He’d already wasted too much time.
Fleance twisted all of his hellhound’s rage and strength together, honing it sharp as a knife. It was almost enough to make him forget the blood trickling down his leg. The way he wasn’t putting all his weight on it, because he wasn’t sure it would take it.
He would get one chance to strike—just one. And the trick he’d tried before wouldn’t work. This time there would be no surprises. Just strength against strength, and he had to hope the hits he’d managed to land on Parker already would even the field.
He charged forward.
Straight into Sheena.
She’d come out of nowhere, and the noise she made as he struck her took all the breath out of his lungs. He staggered back. *Sheena—what are you doing?*
Her lips twisted back over her teeth and the skin on her shoulders twitched as though she was in pain.
*I can’t stop it,* she growled. *Fleance—*
Her voice cut off with a yelp. Fleance snarled defiance at his uncle.
*Leave her out of this!*
*She got herself involved,* Parker sneered. *Hitting me with that plank—she’ll pay for that. Oh, don’t worry, kid, I’m not going to hurt her,* he drawled before Fleance could respond. *You know me better than that. I’m not going to touch the girl. Hell, you’re doing a good enough job of that yourself. Me? I’m giving her a job. A future.*
*As your hitman.*
Sheena was still standing like a statue. Her legs quivered under a too-familiar strain. Fleance didn’t need to imagine what she was feeling; he’d experienced it too many times himself.
Parker laughed in his face. *Hitman? You’ve been watching too many movies. Try a couple of legal dramas, instead. You think I’d go to all this trouble to get done for murder?* He pushed on his powers, giving the impression of looming forward without actually moving an inch. Fleance’s hellhound scratched the ground. It had to be his imagination, but he thought the ground rumbled in response.
Parker’s voice wormed back into his head. *Murder leaves bodies. You know how I feel about mess, kid. It’s just not me! Look, what we had before