Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,71
true pirate says, ‘Fuck ’em.’”
She drew her gun. “Fuck ’em. Let’s do this.”
He led the way, dipping under the broken timbers of the Sea Dog. When they reached the top of the battered stairway, his heart sank. Holes riddled the main deck.
Mamon spun around, his slender, black-forked tongue slithering out between his thin lips, giving his voice a distinct hiss. “Chosssen one.”
Greyson would hear it in his nightmares.
“I’m right here!” Aura shouted. “Where’s the Alpha? Let him go and I’m yours.”
“He’s dead.” The demon’s lips peeled back into a tight smile, exposing pointed, bloodstained teeth. “And you’re already mine. I knew you’d come for the sword.”
The demon lurched forward. Greyson pushed in front of Aura, growling, “The sword’s in yer head again.”
“I’m fighting it.”
Shit, there was nowhere on this ship anymore that he could hide her.
The demon lifted the sword. “Needs more power. Blood of the chosen one.”
Greyson let out a caustic laugh. “More power?” He glanced at what was left of the Sea Dog. “What the hell are you trying to cut through?”
“Time…” he hissed. “Home.”
What the hell did that mean?
Aura grabbed Greyson’s shoulder, her nails digging into his skin. Her voice was tight. “He’ll destroy the world as we know it.”
“The fuck he will. We’re not giving that blade any more power.” He looked over his shoulder, at Aura. “Be ready to take the Tyrfing.”
She nodded. Sweat ran down her face, but her jaw was tight, determined. He hoped she could fight against the mental onslaught of the sword long enough to lift the curse. If this was going to work, he’d have to trust her.
He scanned the deck for the rest of the crew, but no one else was topside. Maybe they’d retreated to the galley to help Bob. No time to search for them now. He needed to distract the abomination before he destroyed what was left of the ship.
“I’ll send you home, beastie. In pieces.” Greyson pulled back the slide on his gun. “Nobody fucks with the Sea Dog. Drop the sword.”
The demon threw his head back and laughed. Greyson fired three shots in rapid succession across the beast’s exposed throat. His earlier bullets at the meeting place had barely slowed the creature, but maybe if the demon lost his head, he’d be just as dead as Greyson and the crew would be.
Flesh blew out of the back of the demon’s neck, and his head snapped up, wobbling inhumanly from side to side like it was…loose. “Your weapons can’t stop me, mortal.”
Mortal. The demon didn’t know Greyson couldn’t die. As long as Greyson kept his head on his shoulders, he’d recover. His gaze wandered down to the demon’s grip on the Tyrfing. If he couldn’t get the creature to drop it, maybe he could take it from him.
He glanced over at Aura. Her face was pale, her shirt wet with sweat, but she still had her weapon raised as she moved around the fallen mast. So fucking strong. Pride and love blended into a tempest of unwanted emotions he didn’t have time to examine right now.
Time to make the demon drop the sword so Aura could grab the hilt.
He took a deep breath, steeling his nerve. This was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aura’s head throbbed. Between the bobbing of the ship and the frenetic buzzing inside her mind, her balance was off. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up. Her ears ached as if her eardrums might burst at any moment.
With each step closer to the sword, the intensity increased, the pressure building.
From the corner of her eye, Greyson shot forward. Her head snapped in his direction as he ran directly toward Mamon.
She winced as the vise around her head tightened. Stumbling closer to the demon, she kept her gun raised and ready. With its chest in the sights of her Glock, she squeezed off a round.
The bullet hit its mark, but it barely slowed the creature.
“I’m over here, asshole,” Greyson shouted.
Mamon spun toward him, raising the Tyrfing. Her eyes widened, realizing what was about to happen.
“That’s it, ye ugly bastard.” Greyson goaded the demon closer. “That sword wants blood, not lumber.”
Mamon rushed him, and Greyson got off four shots. Three hit the demon’s wrist and forearm and one struck the cursed blade, ricocheting off. The buzzing in her head became a piercing squeal.
Chosen-one-chosen-one-come-come-come-come!
Aura dropped to her hands and knees, retching, unable to bear the sudden onslaught of agony.