Page 20 of Helsing: Demon Slayer (The Dragon’s Paladins #1)
An alien machine that resembled nothing more than a stainless-steel dragonfly perched on the highway in front of them, blocking both lanes.
As she watched, one of its bubble-like glass eyes lifted upward to reveal a well-built blond man with a chiseled jaw who looked like he should walk a fashion runway instead of an airport one.
He stepped out and was joined by a severe-looking woman wearing sunglasses and black clothing from the other side of the weird vehicle.
She carried a large black weapon across her body and scanned the highway and mountains around them.
“The calvary is here!” said the driver. “I don’t know how they got here so fast.”
The medic looked at him, relief easing the tight muscles in his jaw. “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Never, dude.”
Dianne felt Ryan relax a fraction, though his visage still showed him on high alert.
“Who is that?” she asked.
He looked at her. She saw a hint of wonder in his gaze. “Willem. He works for the Kastriotis. Looks like he can get you out of here to safety.”
A violent mix of emotions cascaded through Dianne, so tangled she had no idea what they included beyond relief and disappointment.
“What about you?” she asked, emotion clogging her throat. “What about Germaine? Whatever that is, it doesn’t look big enough to take all of us.”
Ryan looked at Dianne, his hazel eyes as hard as granite. Something flickered there that she didn’t catch. Instead of answering her, his gaze lasered over her face.
He lifted his chin to indicate her cheek, which burned as if etched by acid. “Did she hurt you anywhere else?”
Dianne shook her head. “No.” Germaine’s bloody fingers invaded her memory. “What about your side? There’s so much blood on her hand from when she attacked you.”
“Just a scratch,” he said. “Nothing a bar or three of WiseHerb's finest artisanal chocolate won’t fix. Don’t worry. I only need half a miracle.”
Before Dianne could push against that characterization, the one named Willem engaged the liftgate on the Range Rover and arrowed a no-nonsense look at them. His survey took in the three of them, including Germaine, who’d slumped against the sidewall, unconscious finally.
He locked gazes with Ryan. “The daemon won’t be subdued long. More are coming.”
“I know,” said Ryan as Dianne said, “Wait! What does that mean? More daemons? Here?”
The black-haired woman, who’d taken up a position not far from the SUV’s rear, tensed as she looked back toward the little whirlybird. “Boss,” she said, “They’re here.”
The air around them seemed to electrify, and the sky darkened as if a massive storm approached.
A mighty wind buffeted the corridor of the highway caught between low mountains and the coastal plain.
The armed woman’s long black hair swirled around her head, but nothing else moved.
Ethereal blue light sprang around her and her companion in an awe-inspiring halo.
A faint answering gleam rose along Ryan’s skin, matching Dianne’s tunic, which still glowed.
Against the palpable dread threatening to smother them a cavernous voice echoed inside Dianne’s head. You’re mine. You’ve been mine for a long time, Little Girl.
Darting a terrified look at Germaine, she saw her friend’s unnatural gaze fixed on her, malevolence burning the air between them.
Ryan had no intention of meeting his fate crouched inside the rear storage area of an armored luxury SUV. He’d been a Ranger precisely because he needed to face whatever enemy came his way in the open and standing, if possible, not skulking in a tin can.
He wriggled his way to the edge of the vehicle and set his feet on the ground, ignoring the excruciating pain in his side that made it hard to breathe.
“I will take her,” said Willem, reaching for Dianne.
Ryan narrowed his eyes and stared at the much shorter—and lighter— Elioud , an architect by training and now Miró’s right hand in R&D. He might have the advantage of angel blood, but Ryan had a few tricks up his sleeve that would more than compensate in a matchup.
“I misspoke. I defer to you,” said Willem, a gleam of amusement flashing in his gaze. He turned back to his companion. “Marta, now.”
Ryan glanced at Dianne, whose pale face belied her brave silence. “Put your hands around my neck.”
She obeyed without comment.
Cradling her, he braced his thighs against the Range Rover, clenched his jaw, and stood. As he did, Marta activated a harmonic shield that drew on the energies of their modified SUV as well as the prototype helo, turning them into nodes in a larger defensive system.
And not a moment too soon.
A maelstrom of discordant energy slammed into the shield, disgorging a mass of daemons , whose gleaming eyes and sharp incisors were the stuff of nightmares and hallucinations.
They immediately threw themselves against the shield, completely surrounding the Kastrioti crew and blocking out what little sunlight had remained.
Dianne started and gave a little scream, which she muffled against Ryan.
Tremors raced through the shield’s finely woven frequencies and visible gaps began to appear. Ethereal light sprang from Willem’s fingertips as he began weaving a complex pattern in the air while chanting something unfamiliar to Ryan. Ryan’s harmonics responded, vibrating the drum of his chest.
All around them, sweet music began to swell, pushing against the discordant energy, repairing the fraying harmonic fabric. The other Kastrioti warfighters took up defensive positions around the shield’s base, adding energy from their personal systems to its complex harmonics.
The soft blue glow of Dianne’s tunic brightened to a phosphorescent white.
Ryan glanced down and saw that she now stared at the vile Dark spirits, her mouth open, but her eyes narrowed.
She no longer trembled like a rose in a hailstorm.
Instead, she sat forward, her spine firm and her chin lifted.
Something swelled in his chest as he looked at her.
It was the oddest, yet most comforting, sensation he’d ever felt in his life.
For a long interval, the team’s integrated defense expelled the daemons and harmonized the shield with the celestial plane.
But the daemons howled and scrabbled at the glowing barrier in furious hatred so visceral it threatened to choke Ryan, whose harmonic chainmail had needed retuning and charging after Split. It had failed to protect him already.
He was in danger of failing.
The mission, soldier echoed Beta’s voice in his memory.
Ryan lifted his chin and began chanting St. Benedict’s Exorcism Prayer. Dianne shifted in his arms, her breasts rubbing his chest, and electricity swarmed through him like a beehive, unexpectedly juicing his harmonics and making his voice husky.
Without being ordered, Markos and the two other Kastrioti warfighters joined him. Their human chant blended in a pleasing counterpoint to Willem’s Elioud one.
If they hadn’t had access to the Elioud ability to read and respond to angelic harmonics, which operated outside of created time and space, they would have been caught off guard and sent mad long before they tore each other to shreds.
Or worse, possessed by a legion of daemons and used in whatever way the Dark spirits wanted.
As they’d used Germaine Grimes.
As they’d do once the shield vanished.
Already Willem’s wet face shone, and sweat soaked the underarms of his shirt.
He swayed, buffeted by a powerful current, as he maintained the shield’s fundamental frequency.
He’d likely used a great deal of his Elioud power getting the prototype copter to them, and even he couldn’t sustain a defense against so much bitter chaos and discord.
It wouldn’t be long now. Disordered harmonics had seeped into the space under the shield, which had lightened so much that Ryan could see through it and beyond the daemons clinging like locusts to its surface.
As far as the eye could see along the narrow highway, a handful of cars had been overturned, and daemons infiltrated passengers, transforming them into berserk animals.
The temperature had plummeted until the breath of everything living fogged the air, mixed with a mind-numbing cacophony.
Beneath the fraying harmonic mesh, the pressure mounted. Markos wore a desperate expression, while Marta’s face had gone blank. But Barts? The driver had a strange gleam in his eyes, the kind of light that didn’t portend well for his sanity.
Ryan didn’t have time to worry about that.
He’d left his gun in the Rover’s second-row seat when he’d gone to help Dianne with Germaine, but he needed it.
And his backpack, which he’d filled with extra ammo.
If he could get Dianne into a nearby vehicle, surely they could leave the others to deal with the few possessed, who’d be drawn to Germaine like flies to honey …
“I’ve got to get my weapon,” he said, setting Dianne on her feet. “Stay here.”
And then Mihàil Kastrioti appeared in a white-hot blaze on the asphalt outside the shield and began ripping daemons off it.
The zoti had near full-angel blood, and since marrying Olivia had become the next best thing to a Watcher Angel walking on earth.
The daemons shrieked in agony as his hands disrupted what little control they had over the created world, turning them into what he’d described to Ryan as harmonic goo that he could disperse on superheated winds.
Dianne gasped. “Mihàil?”
Ryan ignored her to sprint around the Rover. He yanked open the rear door and reached in to grab the backpack from the far seat and the handgun in its holster from the seatback.
Unfortunately, Barts fell apart at the same time.
Pivoting, he ran toward Marta with clawed hands.
She, however, still carried the Defender combat rifle she held to ward off any possessed humans who made it into their haven.
Turning, she managed a shot before the driver rushed her and grabbed the barrel.
And then she engaged him in fierce hand-to-hand combat, her hands wielding the rifle like a club and her elbows striking in a syncopated rhythm.
Beyond them, Markos pulled his own pistol and began firing at daemons , a futile act that would leave him without bullets once the shield collapsed.
They didn’t have much time.
Mihàil cleared all the evil spirits attacking their joined harmonics as they disintegrated into discord. His preternatural gaze took in the entire scene. Something sparked between him and Willem, who stood panting with his hands on his thighs.
Then the zoti ’s unsettling gaze landed on Ryan, who’d returned to Dianne’s side.
“Get her out of here now, Helsing.” Elioud authority rang in Mihàil’s voice, sending it echoing along the highway, where a small number of possessed humans momentarily milled in the disorienting heatwaves from the zoti ’s assault.
The disordered creatures shrieked as one, their hands going to their ears in a futile attempt to block the sound of their adversary’s voice.
Ryan didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing Dianne’s hand, he tugged her after him beyond the prototype helo to the sole car, its driver’s door open and the engine still running.
Dianne looked behind them and screamed.
Ryan shot a glance over his shoulder, his stride lengthening into an all-out run at the sight.
Mihàil stood, undaunted, as a grotesque, glimmering black ethereal locust towered over him on hind legs thick with hooked, razorlike spurs.
“Abaddon.” Fury and disgust roughened the zoti ’s refined baritone. Beneath his feet, the asphalt smoked. Faint luminous wings rose from his back. “Time to return to your abyss where you belong.”
“You are outnumbered, drangùe ,” said the Dark creature in soft, clicking sibilance before jumping on Mihàil, who disappeared inside its rapacious jaws.
Dianne screamed again, but Ryan forced her inside the car and shoved her into the passenger seat before dropping into the driver’s side.
He slammed the door shut, pulled the gearshift into drive, and then stomped on the accelerator.
The little sedan fishtailed, burning rubber as two daemoniacs jumped on the hood and trunk, trying to stop them.
Ryan, one hand on the wheel, leaned out the window and shot the one on the trunk before grappling with the other, who was only dislodged when he hit the brakes.
Ryan swerved to miss the possessed man, who’d tumbled onto the highway, pressed the gas pedal to the floor, and sped south toward Bosnia-Herzegovina.
The last thing he saw in the rearview mirror was Willem climbing into the back of the Range Rover while Marta unloaded the Defender against daemoniacs .