"What?"
Though I could smell the fear on him—as he could no doubt smell it on me—his voice was amazingly steady. But then, I guess he'd seen more than his fair share of dangerous beings in his years as an investigative reporter.
Just not this dangerous.
"Use the holy water to form a wide half circle around yourself, then press back against the wall."
"What are you going to do?"
"Kill them."
"Ris, if the holy water works as a barrier, why don't we both just wait behind it?"
I carefully opened the bottle. The cork hit the dirt near my feet and bounced a little before settling. The hounds' eyes gleamed a fiercer red in the darkness, and tension rippled across their sleek black hides. They were getting ready to pounce.
"Hellhounds have one design function, and that's to kill. Holy water might work as a short-term deterrent, but it's not strong enough to provide long-term protection."
"It only has to last long enough for us to ring for help. Your uncle—"
"Will not get here in time. No one can. Hellhounds aren't stupid, and they're not going to wait around while we ring for help."
"Oh."
"Use the knife if a hound decides to ignore the holy water and attempts to get at you." God, how did that come out so calmly when my stomach was twisted into knots and my hands were shaking? "And good luck."
"Yeah, you, too."
We were both going to need it. I took a deep breath and gripped Amaya tightly. Her desire to kill was so fierce it was almost blanketing, and suddenly not only was she in my head, but I was in hers. In the steel, at one with her.