Finding the Lost

Finally, it ended. She felt his arm loosen, and she shoved herself away from him. He stumbled backward. His eyes rolled back in his head as if he’d passed out, and she scrambled to catch him before his head hit the concrete.



His limp weight was hard to handle, but she managed to ease him to the ground. Her left arm twinged, but it worked, and that was what really mattered.



Andra didn’t waste any time checking to see if he was okay. There was nothing she could do for him now except keep the monsters off of him until they could all get the hell out of here.



She fetched her shotgun, reloaded it, and stood guard over the group.



“You really think that’s gonna help, little girl?” asked Madoc, eyeing her weapon.



“It sure as hell doesn’t hurt.”



“Swords work better.”



“Maybe, but only if you know how to use one. I’ll stick with what I know.”



“As much as I’d love to stay and fight, we need to get out of here,” said Madoc.



“I couldn’t agree more. Any ideas?”



“Can you drive?”



In the distance, she saw a faint pair of glowing green eyes. “I can now.”



“Do you think you can drag Logan? Get him into the car?”



“If that’s what I need to do. Sure.”



“Do it. I’ll load Paul and the kid as soon as he’s done here and we’ll all get the hell out of Dodge.”



It seemed to take an eternity, but one by one, Paul drove each of Sammy’s nightmares into the earth. Not even the acidic power of fear was strong enough to bother the stones beneath him.



Paul pulled out of the child’s mind, gasping for air. He slumped with fatigue, but strong arms supported him. He was too tired to open his eyes and see who was there.



“Can you stand?” asked Madoc. His voice was close. He was the one keeping Paul from falling to the ground.



“Not yet. Give me a minute.” He was panting and his weakness grated against his nerves. He didn’t want to show even the slightest hint of weakness to Andra or give her any other reason to shun him. He had to be strong and prove to her he was worthy of her.



“Is Sammy going to be okay?” Andra asked. Her voice flowed over him like cool, clean water, restoring some of the strength his efforts had drained. He wanted to reach for her and feel her skin beneath his fingertips, but his arms weren’t listening and they stayed locked around Sammy’s body.



Paul nodded in response to her question, but even that small motion was draining. His body felt bruised from the inside out, and he wasn’t sure whether he was strong enough to stand. Removing Sam’s nightmares had taken its toll on his body, and he didn’t know how long it would take him to recover. “He’s sleeping now,” rasped Paul. “But he’ll wake up soon, and when he does, he needs his parents to be there.” Only the soothing touch of a mother and the protective embrace of a father were going to finish the healing process Paul had begun.



“No time to chat,” said Madoc. “We need to get moving.”



A deep sgath howl split the predawn silence. It was close, and Paul was in no shape to fight.



“Help me up and I’ll recover in the car.” Paul forced his eyes open, hoping it would settle his churning stomach. He didn’t think puking all over Andra’s boots was going to win him any points.



“Let me have Sammy,” said Andra. Her short brown hair reflected the light from the lamp overhead. Her stance was rigid, her blue eyes mistrustful. “I don’t want you to drop him.”



Great. Now she thought he couldn’t even carry a small child. Fantastic. He almost told her he’d never do that, but his arms were shaking and weak enough that he didn’t want to take a chance. Even if he did look like a wimp, at least the boy would be safe.



She took the limp weight of the child in her arms just as two more sgath broke through a distant line of trees.



“Time’s up,” said Madoc, and hauled Paul across the parking lot to the SUV he’d left running.



Paul’s legs had just started to cooperate when Madoc shoved him in the back door. He scooted over to the far seat, making room for Andra to join them.



She didn’t. In fact, she wasn’t even behind him. She was already in her own vehicle—a beat-up Ford that looked like it had been on the losing end of a fight or two already—headed down the street away from the oncoming Synestryn demons.



“She’s leaving!” shouted Paul.



“We’re right behind her. Chill.” Madoc slammed the SUV in gear, and the tires screamed as he sped down the street after her. Or at least she should have been there, but wasn’t.



Paul scanned the streets and saw nothing. “Where did she go?”



“How should I know? There are a ton of side streets around here. She probably took one of them.”



“Find her, damn it.” Desperation made his words sharp and angry.



“We’ve got a couple of sgath on our tail, so maybe finding her and the kid isn’t the best thing right now. At least if the Synestryn are following us, they’re not following her.”



Paul looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, there were two demons on their bumper, keeping pace with the SUV as easily as if it were sitting still. No way could they lead those things to Andra and Sammy. “Veer off. We’ll find a place to take them out and then go after her. Logan found her once. He can find her again.”



Paul hoped it wasn’t just wishful thinking.



The Sanguinar was slumped in the front seat, his head lolling around like a rag doll’s as Madoc took a hard right. “If he regains consciousness before dawn, you mean.”



The SUV sped up, and the sgath started to fall back, unable to keep pace.



Madoc spun into a turn and brought the SUV to a rocking stop. He shot Paul a grimace via the rearview mirror. “There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”



Paul still felt like hell—weak and shaky—but at least his legs were stronger. Madoc leaped from the vehicle while Paul kind of spilled out; then he and Madoc took a stand in a recently plowed field.



The sgath saw them there and charged. “Good news would be nice right about now.”



“Logan will be able to find Andra no matter what, so you don’t have to worry about that.”



That was more than good news; it was great news. He wasn’t going to lose her. “So, what’s the bad news?”



Paul lifted his blade and prepared for the demons’ charge. Madoc did the same.



“Logan can find her because he healed her busted arm. She owes him blood.”



He’d have to pay the debt for her. No way was he going to let Logan get his fangs on her pretty neck—or anywhere else. “Over my dead body,” said Paul.



Madoc gave him a sneering once-over. “If you feel as shitty as you look, that may very well be the case. Get that fucking sword up, man.”



The closest sgath leaped into the air.



Paul sliced at the demon, but his arms were weak, putting his aim off the mark, and instead of hitting anything vital, he only managed to lop off a leg. The thing landed hard, howled in pain, and scrambled awkwardly back onto its feet.



His sword felt heavy, which was proof he wasn’t fully recovered from healing Sammy’s mind. But heavy or not, he’d been fighting these things for centuries and knew what to do. His body followed his commands and he feinted right, fooling the sgath into thinking he’d left his flank unprotected. Its teeth flashed a sickly yellow as it went for the opening. Paul shifted his weight at the last second and drove his sword down through the sgath’s skull before its teeth could connect.



It wriggled there, still clinging to life, slashing at him with its front claws. Paul twisted his blade and finally the sgath went limp.



Paul had killed the thing, but he was breathing too hard and barely able to retrieve his sword. Madoc watched him, standing over his own kill, which was sliced neatly in two—or not so neatly, considering what was leaking out of the sgath’s gut. “Took you long enough.”



“You could have lent a hand.”



Madoc shrugged. “What fun would that have been?”



Paul wiped his blade on the grass to clean the oily black blood from it. His hands were shaking enough to piss him off. He couldn’t afford to be weak right now—not with Andra out there, owing a blood debt to one of the Sanguinar.



“Is Logan up yet?” asked Paul.



Madoc checked the front seat. “Nope. Still out cold.”



“Great. Now how are we going to find her?”



“You could look up her license plate number.”



“I could if I had it.”



Madoc rattled off the number.



“How do you know that?”



“I saw it when I was tearing out after her.”



“So did I, but I didn’t remember it.”



Madoc shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I remember numbers and shit like that when I see them.”



Paul clapped Madoc on the shoulder, enjoying the way the physical contact made him squirm uncomfortably. “You’re like some kind of genius, man.”



“Yeah, the kind who’s going to beat the hell out of you if you don’t shut up about it and get your hands off me.”



Paul held up his hands in surrender, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “I’m just saying that it’s a pretty cool trick you’ve got there, egghead.”



“Fuck off.”



Paul didn’t know Madoc well. He tended to hang out alone most of the time, keeping his distance from the rest of the Theronai. Paul had been pretty sure he wasn’t going to like the loner, but time was proving him wrong. Madoc was growing on him. And he was useful as hell.



“I’m going to call Nicholas and track her plates. You mind keeping a lookout?”



“Whatever.”



Paul sat down on the ground by the SUV to let his body recover, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed the compound’s head of security.



“This had better be good,” was how Nicholas answered the phone, his voice gritty, as if he hadn’t used it in days. Maybe he hadn’t. Nicholas was a bit of a recluse, choosing to stay in his techno-lair more often than not.



“I, uh, met someone tonight. I need you to do a background check on her.”



“What, did she borrow money from you or something?”



“Not that kind of background,” said Paul. “She helped us save a boy from some Synestryn tonight. I need you to find out if she’s hit anyone’s radar.”



“Just our radar or the Sanguinar’s and Slayers’ radar, too?”



Paul glanced at Logan. As far as he could tell, the Sanguinar was still unconscious. Good. “Anyone’s.”



“You think she’s a Dorjan?” asked Nicholas, using the term for a human who worked for the Synestryn in exchange for money or power.



“No, but she faced down several Synestryn armed with only a shotgun.” Paul still remembered the way she’d stood there, her feet braced apart in a battle stance. He wasn’t sure if he was more impressed by her courage or frightened by her ignorance. She could have been killed, and if she was what he thought she was, she was way too important for him to let her take such a chance ever again. Her life was too precious to risk.