Morrigan by Jonathan King (cat reading book txt) 📕

the Dullahan closing the gap between them. “Why couldn’t he have kept his horse?” he asked. “Or his head?”

“Trust me.” Morrigan drew her sword. “When you see his head, that’s when you’re in trouble.”

“What about his spine?” Abel pointed to the Dullahan, who had plucked a long chain of vertebrae from its side. It swung it over its non-head and cracked it like a whip, and it shot across the distance between them and snagged Abel’s ankle. Abel barely had time to cry out before the Dullahan yanked back on the spine whip, heaving him into the air and out of the truck bed. He grabbed hold of the tailgate, grasping it with the tips of his fingers as his attacker sent shivers down the spine to shake his whole body. Much more of this and he’d lose his grip and drop to the speed-blurred asphalt, and that would be the end of Abel Whittaker.

Morrigan snatched one wrist, Brigid grabbed another, and together they pulled against the spine in a deadly game of tug-of-war. Abel groaned as his limbs stretched and the whip cut deep into his ankle … and then it slipped away and coiled back around the Dullahan’s hand. The two goddesses fell backwards, dragging Abel back into the truck bed to land on top of them.

“Let’s not do that again,” Abel panted, winded from panic and pain.

The motorcycle roared, and the Dullahan closed the gap and pulled alongside them.

“We may not have a choice in a minute.” Morrigan leaped to her feet and brandished her sword. “There’s no getting away from it now.”

She’s right, Abel thought as he looked around. They were driving along the Battery now, with houses on one side and a stone sea wall rising high on the other. If that weren’t enough, a row of cars parked bumper to bumper sat on either side. Mac had enough trouble avoiding traffic, much less finding an exit. There was nowhere to turn, no escape to be made. Abel gripped his sword tight.

“Wait!” Brigid snapped her fingers. “Better idea.” She slipped on her welding mask, snatched up her torch, and attached it to one of the propane tanks.

“It’s not vulnerable to fire,” said Morrigan. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Shut up and grab my legs,” said Brigid, and before either of them could ask for clarification, she slipped over the side of the truck headfirst. They caught her calves before her head hit the pavement, leaving her bobbing between the truck’s spinning tire and the Dullahan’s motorcycle. Not that she was worried; she whooped with exhilaration, swaying back and forth.

“Don’t move around so much,” Morrigan warned her, wrapping her arms tighter around Brigid’s leg.

“And hurry!” Abel added. The Dullahan inched closer and reached out for him.

Brigid quelled her mirth and fired up the torch, turning it on the Dullahan’s tires. With a bang, the rubber gave way, and the motorcycle spun sideways and slammed into one of the parked cars.

“Yes!” Abel cheered, but the word died on his lips as the creature leaped from his broken cycle to land in the truck bed with the balance of a cat.

“No,” Abel said, and the Dullahan reached for him.

Then Mac slammed on the brakes, and everything pitched forward. Morrigan and Abel lost their grip on Brigid, and she rolled on the asphalt to break her fall. The Dullahan smashed into the back windshield.

Mac got out of the truck waving his arms. “Away from the truck! Hurry now!”

Abel dropped over the side and sucked in a breath as his foot hit the road.

“What’s wrong?” Morrigan asked, landing beside him.

“I’m not sure what that spine whip did to my ankle, but it hurts like crazy,” Abel said. “I could use some of Brigid’s healing touch right about now.”

“No time,” Morrigan said. “Can you walk?”

“I think so,” Abel said, but his next step made him cry out. “Okay, so I can hop.”

Morrigan wrapped his arm around her shoulders, grabbed his back and legs, and lifted him, carrying him like a groom carrying a bride over a threshold, only much faster. The Dullahan moved behind them.

“Come on!” Mac waved them and Brigid past him into Battery Park.

“What’s he so urgent about?” Abel asked. “He’s not going to blow up the truck, is he?”

Morrigan flashed him a smile as she hid behind a car. “Not exactly.”

The Dullahan crouched to spring at them again, but stopped as Mac raised his arms. Then Abel heard the lap of surf on concrete. That’s when he remembered where they were and what Mac’s god status was.

The sea god raised his arms higher, and a massive wave the length of the Battery rose from the ocean at his command, coming to wipe this abomination from the face of the earth.

“Hang on to something!” Brigid cried, bracing herself against one of the park’s massive shade trees. Morrigan grabbed a cannon and held on tight to Abel.

The wave crashed down, knocking the truck into the wall of cars, dashing nearby pedestrians off their feet, dousing Abel and the gods, and sweeping the Dullahan back into the sea. Abel choked on the salt water, but he couldn’t help smiling as the black leather hulk went tumbling over the side of the sea wall.

“Awesome,” he managed in between coughs.

“The ancient Celts thought something similar,” Mac said with a chuckle. A light mist clung to his clothes, but other than that, he was dry as a bone. “Only their wording was a good bit stronger.” He helped a few drenched passersby to their feet and made sure everyone was all right, and then swaggered back to the truck, followed by his dripping and dragging companions. He cranked the engine, but his only reward was a sodden sputtering.

“Of course I’ve flooded the engine,” he muttered. “Got to work up a fix for that.”

“I warded my home against fire, but you didn’t think to ward your things against sea water?” Brigid teased, shaking her head.

“Now look, woman.” Mac wagged a finger at her, but he never finished