Field of Blood by Wilson, Eric (pdf e book reader .TXT) 📕

her nowhere. She remained stationary. Terror and guilt clamped an icy hand around her throat.

Dov!

The bear slowed as one of the boy’s MTPs careened off its huge round head and peeled back a flap of hide. The animal seemed annoyed more than anything, rising to full height before Dov and Cal, bellowing between powerful jaws packed with sharp canines.

Gina tried again to move. She choked: “Get . . . back . . . here.”

She realized then that the hand at her throat was more substantial than emotion, more corporeal than panic. From down past her chin, she nabbed a glimpse of a tapered fingernail as it curled and tightened its grip.

She was being strangled.

“Cal . . .”

She tried to call out his name, without success. How could she have been so selfish as to pull him away from his own life-or-death skirmish? She craned back to see her enemy.

Shalom’s intense stare was locked onto her from behind. Gina tried to stab backward with her dagger, but the female Collector was already kicking at the back of her legs so that she dropped to the ground.

Gina landed hard. Felt the impact through her kneecaps, into her spine.

“You’re coming with me,” Shalom spit near her ear. “We have a nice, cozy cave for you, safe from the elements.”

Gina reached back for a handful of hair, for the eyes, while using her other hand to slip the dagger back into its thigh sheath. When that failed to free her, she tried to smash her cranium into the creature’s nose or lips, anything to loosen the iron grip on her neck. Instead the hold tightened further, and she felt her air shut off as she was lifted by the adrenaline-charged strength of this undead foe.

She was on her feet again—barely, wobbly. She was being dragged, half carried. Her windpipe was constricted. She heard the possessed bear’s roars, as though from far away, then human yelps and a shriek of pain. Her sight was dimming, giving way to this pressure on her carotid artery. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see.

Maybe if she could just—

She was passing out. Stars were winking in the blackness above, winking good night.

Hi, my name is Gina. I’ll be your guide as we descend . . .

CHAPTER

FIFTY-FOUR

Zalmoxis Cave, Romania

Gina Lazarescu refused to verbalize her pain. Propped on weary legs, she tested the thick ropes that pulled her arms toward opposite walls. Her body was chilled, her thoughts as murky as the light seeping through the cave’s mouth.

She had failed Dov. And Petre. Where was Cal?

Though she couldn’t see her captor, she sensed someone was near. Was Shalom standing guard outside?

“I know you’re here,” Gina called out.

In response, a cold wind swept the subterranean chamber with a briny odor. Where had that come from? By her guess, she was a hundred kilo-meters from the Black Sea, trapped in the mountains over Sinaia.

The salty air stung her eyes. She blinked and detected movement at the base of the far wall. A man was curled on the ground, the collars of his jacket flapping in the breeze, small black wings beating at his neck.

Another prisoner? If so, why wasn’t he tied up? Maybe he was dead.

Cal?

No, that wasn’t his jacket.

Something trickled along Gina’s skin and slipped down the curve of her armpit. She craned her head and saw roots tangled around her left bicep, hooked into place by curved thorns. Blood was leaking from the puncture points.

Drippp, drippp . . .

She was being drained. She thought of the leather sheath strapped to her thigh. She thought of ripping loose from the entanglement, but the result would be shredded flesh.

“You’re letting it go to waste. If you want it, come and get it.”

Her voice triggered action in the shadows. The sprawled man’s eyes snapped open, and a preternatural green fire ignited in his pupils. He lifted himself from the ground, brushed pebbles from his stout legs, and patted at wavy, black hair. Then he faced her. One hand stretched, bridged the distance. He was there beside her in an instant.

Was this their leader? Cal had told her his name was Ariston.

Lord Ariston was glad to have made it back to Zalmoxis Cave. In the deeper reaches of these caverns, he had lain Eros and his own son Sol to rest, but that was not what interested him. No, not now.

As he reentered his host and stood to his feet, he was struck again by a splitting headache. He winced. Pushed aside that distraction. He was rewarded with a vision—a slight-framed captive, with unruly hair, bronze skin, and deep brown eyes.

Regina Lazarescu.

She was unaware of her pedigree, of course. Hampered by ignorance, she stood here docile and defeated.

Wasn’t that always the way of it with these humans?

Of course, Shalom deserved some credit for Gina’s capture. Ariston had spoken with his daughter earlier and heard of the confrontation in the valley below. She’d told him of Erota’s shift into a female bear, of the deadly skirmish near the train station. He could only hope Erota made a safe return.

Ariston had also heard of Shalom’s arduous trek up the mountain trail, of her bleeding stump and the effort to get the hostage secured. Though she’d wanted to drain Gina on the spot, to restore her core temperature, he had denied that request.

Shalom slunk off, seeking fresh blood to restore her core temperature. She would be back soon enough.

Until then, Ariston would enjoy his time with the captive.

Gina threw her head back and swallowed a scream. The Collector was tugging, almost playfully, on the tangle of razor-edged roots. He ran one finger up her rib cage, then touched the blood-stained tip to his tongue while she tried to harness the tremors of adrenaline that ran along her skin.

“Hello,” he said. “I am Ariston.”

“You are weak,” she hissed at him. “You have to tie me up to have a chance, is that how this works?”

“You sound upset.”

“I’m tied to the walls of a cave.”

“Anger’s