Page 49 of Midnight Sun
Hewakesfrompleasantdreams as Jamie stirs in his arms. Hardly any daylight seeps through the blackout curtains, but a look at the alarm clock shows Finn that it’s just past 3 am. The sky must be cloudy outside.
“Go back to sleep,” Jamie mumbles against Finn’s chest.
Finn smiles and presses a kiss to the top of Jamie’s head. Warm, sleep-rumpled hair tickles his nose.
Jamie slips out of bed and ambles toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” he grins over his shoulder.
Finn watches with chagrin as Jamie picks up a pair of Finn’s joggers and puts them on, covering the red marks Finn left on his arse and thighs. What a shame. Seeing Jamie wearing his clothes, on the other hand, is quite a pleasing sight.
Finn yawns, and settles into the cozily warmed sheets again. He slowly drifts back to sleep.
A muffled noise from the hallway startles Finn. He lifts his head from the pillow and squints into the darkness. Jamie has vanished into the en-suite bathroom, but the door to the corridor is open an inch, and Finn is sure he closed it before getting into bed. A strange, queasy feeling spreads through his gut. Something is scratching over the wooden tiles. A foul stench hits Finn’s nose just as the door swings open soundlessly.
A large shadow appears in the doorway, and the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck stand up. The figure is at least seven feet tall and bulky. His skin has turned blue in death and is falling off in flakes. Finn is on his feet within a heartbeat.
“Thorfinn Troll-Burster,” the undead greets him, adraugur,risen from its grave. A chill runs down Finn’s spine. He didn’t think they still existed.
“You came into my home, mound-dweller. What do you want?” Finn growls. He takes a quick glance toward the bathroom, hoping against hope that Jamie will stay inside. Finn can make out the glow of light under the door frame. Jamie should never have to face such a creature, let alone fight it. Finn doesn’t dare to think about the possibility that Jamie might get hurt.
Thedraugurgrins at him with yellowed teeth, its claws opening and closing with an awful clapping noise. Sweat trickles down Finn’s neck.
“I’m here to kill you, and bring your lover to my chieftain,” thedraugurrasps. It speaks distorted English, as if its lips were forced to form the foreign words against its will. Whoever made the warrior rise and leave its grave isn’t an Icelander, then. Interesting.
“Who’s your chieftain?” Finn takes a half-step forward, inching closer to his sword leaning against the wall. If he wants to get rid of the walking corpse before Jamie returns, he can’t waste precious time chit-chatting.
Thedraugurseems confused by Finn’s question. “The chieftain wants your lover, the knight from Wessex. Don’t you know who has a feud with you?”
Finn snarls. “No, because you fight for a coward who doesn’t dare to show his face. And your name is already forgotten.”
“Not if I kill you. TheHuldufolksing about your deeds. They will sing for me, too.” Thedraugurtakes a step into the room, its stench becoming unbearable.
Finn’s hand closes around the hilt of his sword. It’s finally paying off that he’s paranoid enough to sleep with his weapon within reach. Fighting thedraugurin the narrow path between his bed and the wall will be difficult, but Finn sees no way to lure the creature outside.
The door to the bathroom opens silently. Jamie has turned off the light so as not to alert thedraugurto his presence. He meets Finn’s gaze, wide-eyed and pale-faced, jaw clenched resolutely. Finn’s gaze falls on the showerhead Jamie is holding like a club. How did the madman get it off without making a sound? Damn. Finn realizes he can’t keep Jamie out of this fight. He nods ever so slightly.
“Hey, zombie,” Jamie says and steps into the bedroom. Finn’s stomach drops as thedraugur’shead turns to Jamie, an ugly snarl on its lips. Jamie hits the shower head against its face with enough force to smash in the side of the skull. Shit, he loves the idiot.
Finn charges. He jumps and lets his sword crash down on thedraugur.The blow cleanly cuts off its right arm under the elbow. The undead roars, its destroyed head swiveling between Jamie and Finn. Jamie doesn’t hesitate to hit it again. This time, the blow bounces off of thedraugur’sshoulder without doing much harm. The creature grabs Jamie by the arm and throws him inside the bathroom as if he were a rag doll. Finn has only a split second to watch him sink to the floor before the undead whips around to attack him. Finn barely avoids being gutted by its claws, and lands another cut across thedraugur’sbloated belly. The stench filling the room intensifies, but the undead warrior doesn’t even waver. It grunts and forces Finn backwards by its sheer body mass.
Finn dodges a swipe of the undead’s claws and buries his sword in thedraugur’sheart before it can crush him against the wall. The undead freezes, and Finn feels a flicker of relief. A shattering sound from the bathroom draws his attention, and he looks away from the creature. It’s a split-second later when he realizes his mistake.
Thedraugur’sclawed hand closes around Finn’s throat. The creature hisses and lifts him off his feet, seemingly unimpressed by the sword sitting in its chest. Finn struggles and kicks, but the undead barely registers that it’s being hit. It stares at him with void eyes as it squeezes the air from Finn’s lungs. Finn’s thoughts are swirling frantically. He can’t die, not if it means leaving Jamie to his fate. He needs to–
Something heavy hits thedraugur,sending it to its knees. Finn uses the distraction to escape from the undead’s grip and to slip his blade out of its torso as he retreats. He stumbles backward and lands half on his bed as he tries to avoid getting buried under the falling creature.
Finn’s gaze snaps up to Jamie, who crashes down a large white object on the fallendraugur.Finn has to blink a few times to realize that what shatters on the undead’s head is the sink that Jamie ripped out of the wall.
“Cut its head off,” Jamie gasps as thedraugurstill moves after its skull has been bashed in repeatedly.
Finn shakes off the lingering dizziness and brings his sword down on thedraugur’sneck. It slices through the rotting flesh like a knife through butter, and the severed head falls to Finn’s feet. Finally, the undead lies still.
Jamie drops the remains of the sink and scrambles over to Finn frantically. His trembling hands clutch at Finn’s face as he tilts it this way and that, assessing the damage thedraugur’sclaws left on his throat and neck.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
Finn pulls Jamie against his chest. Jamie goes willingly, clinging to his shoulders and burying his face in Finn’s hair.
“I’m fine,” Finn says. He feels his throat constricting, the awe for Jamie’s bravery and fierce protectiveness overwhelming. He drops kisses on Jamie’s hair and the side of his face, everywhere he can reach. “You defeated adraugurwith a sink.”