Natalya tossed away her busted TEP-C. "So, Lothaire, you're going to fight them out of the blackness of your heart?"
Lothaire said to Declan, "Mortals always have a rabbit hole. There's a secure shelter somewhere on this island, isn't there? Somewhere you'd all be safe this night?"
Beginning to recognize Lothaire's calculating look, Declan gave a tight nod, not bothering to hide the scathing hatred boiling inside him. "And what would it take for you to fight the Wendigos?" What more would he want?
"Whenever I ask for something in the future, you will do it for me. Anything. Without hesitation. Vow this."
Another deal with the devil?
"Make no bargains with vampires," the fey murmured. "You always lose in the end."
Too late.
Brandr shook his head. "You can't agree to an open-ended deal like that, especial y not with a leech like him."
"Do I have a bloody choice?"
"Chase, they're pure evil. I've fought them all my life," Brandr said. "Hel , I've probably fought him!"
Lothaire calmly said, "An unlikelihood, as you still live."
Brandr lunged for the vampire, his free hand bal ed into a fist, but Natalya stepped between them. "The Wendigos are closing in," Lothaire said. "I'm going to need your answer."
"Chase," Brandr said warningly.
"This is the only way to save her, and you know it," Lothaire said. "Don't you want to safeguard her?"
At that, Brandr cursed under his breath.
Because he knows I'll make this deal and any other to protect her? "You have my vow." Put it on my goddamned tab. "Very good." Lothaire's red eyes glowed as he so obviously relished the upcoming fight. "Go. I'll stall them."
The halfling began shucking off his heavy pack. "I'll stay with Mr. Lothaire and fight." To Brandr, he said, "You get Natalya and Regin to safety."
With an eerie menace, Lothaire slowly turned to Thad. "No. You won't, young Thaddeus."
"I can help you-"
Lothaire's fist shot out, connecting with the kid's mouth, sending him flying onto his pack. "Run. Along."
Glaring over her shoulder, Natalya helped Thad up. The boy ran his forearm over his bleeding lip, casting Lothaire a stunned look. As he clambered to his feet, his eyes flashed black.
Brandr said, "Let's go. We're running out of time."
Thaddeus adjusted his pack, and Natalya snagged their only weapons, a pair of swords. Brandr still carried Regin-the sole thing Declan wanted.
They set off. But at the edge of the forest, Declan turned back to Lothaire. "How exactly will you know where we go?"
He laughed. "You won't get rid of me that easily, Magister." Fangs glinting, he murmured, "I'll pretend that you're prey and hunt you."
Chapter THIRTY-EIGHT
The group plunged into the forest, with Declan in the lead, making for an older abandoned facility. He'd been there a decade ago when he'd taken over the island.
In the background, they could hear the ongoing fighting, with earthshaking explosions and sporadic gun chatter.
Maybe Lothaire would be decapitated in the coming battle. And rob me of the joy of doing it myself?
Other creatures moved among the trees from time to time, though not the deadly Wendigos. Not yet.
The gale buffeted them, hampering their vision. They leaned into the wind, toiling up an ever-ascending terrain toward one of the many mountains in the island's interior.
Normal y he'd be sprinting this trek so easily, but he'd been weakened from the berserkrage that had probably saved him in the crash.
And weakened from blood loss.
Worse, Lothaire seemed to have sucked out any medicine left in him.
Stil Declan wanted Regin in his arms. "Untie me."
"So you can carry her?" Brandr ducked under a branch. "Now that I've got her, I'm not giving her over."
"Then free me, in case we meet an enemy."
Natalya said, "You are an enemy. You might have some weird reincarnation history with Regin and Brandr, but our history's only four weeks long, and it hasn't exactly endeared you to me." She leapt over a washout. "Let's see. Charge thrower to the face during my capture, imprisonment, threat of torture hanging over my head, enforced abstinence."
Brandr did a double take at that. "We might have a history with Chase, but that didn't stop us from being strapped down to a table and eviscerated without anesthesia." His ire growing with every word, he said, "Our rib cages were cracked open, then wired together-under his orders."
Declan grated, "Not Regin."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. You didn't know about her. Even though you run everything here? Or ran everything."
From behind them, the halfling said, "Is there real y another way off the island?" He was out of breath, no doubt from lugging that pack-what must be a week's worth of food.
"Aye."
Brandr snapped, "Wel , tell us what it is."
Declan shot him a look. "You're still an immortal to me. The fey's right. We are enemies. Seems that knowledge might just keep me alive."
"We didn't have to be enemies," Brandr said. "You're the one who f**ked up, Aidan."
"Don't cal me that!"
"Aidan, ass**le, whatever." He shoved Declan along. "Just shut up and keep moving."
Taking orders from the male infuriated him, but Declan had no berserker strength left to break his bonds, no choice but to lead them forward.
They continued in silence for at least half an hour before they reached the old research facility, a bunker tunneled into the side of a mountain. It was the first modern one on this island, circa nineteen fifty.
Declan led them through a series of rock cutouts, much like a labyrinth, winding deeper into the mountainside. When the trail appeared to dead-end at a sheer rock face, he edged to the right and kept going.
"An optical il usion," the halfling murmured. "Coo-el ."
They finally arrived at the bunker entrance, a thick metal door covered with lichen and moss.
"Al right." Brandr said, "So how do we get in?"
"Untie me, so I can enter a code."
"Just tell me how to do it."
At the man's implacable expression, Declan said, "Tear away the moss. There's a manual code pad. If I can remember the code."
When Brandr uncovered it, Declan rattled off a series of numbers for Brandr to enter.
Clicking gears sounded. With a hiss, the door cracked opened. Declan entered, and the others fol owed. The air was stale, the inside pitch dark. Regin's glow was so dim it barely made a dent in the pressing black.