Page 82 of Devil In Boots


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Over my long life, I had experienced a lot of fear and near-death situations, but this was on another plane of terror.

As more circled around us, I felt their attention directed solely at me.

The nectar pulsed inside my bag as if it was calling to them. Its heartbeat drawing them in like a siren pulling a seaman to his death.

Except they weren’t beautiful women singing lullabies. These were Death’s mercenaries.

Necromancers.

Chapter 19

Croygen

Death was something I’d flirted with most of my life, from the time I was six when I was the only survivor when the ship carrying my family sunk and I was too little to save them. Their screams still haunted me. But worse, I heard their silence. I lay on a piece of driftwood for three days until I was found, delirious and almost dead.

Many times, I had reached out to the other side and stood at the doorway of the in-between, wanting to join my family. To finally have peace.

Death rejected me every time. Spat me out and forced me to live in the guilt, the sins of my crimes.

Now Death’s operatives were here, and for the first time, I was not inclined to bow to them. I’d finally found the serenity I had been searching for. And now I would beat Death at its own game.

Stepping in front of Kat with my gun ready, the seven necromancers circled us, coming for Katrina. Though the two closest to AB paused, as if they could smell the decay in her body, feel death was near. Her soul was being plated up for them like a buffet to devour.

Spikes tore through Cooper’s shirt, his daggered spine curving him over, his huge mass moving between AB and the necromancers, baring his teeth.

The lead necromancer in front of us swung her scythe down in warning, the other six gripping their deadly weapons, ready to fight.

“Kat.” I swallowed, knowing my gun was useless against things already dead. “Might be a good time to shift.”

“They want the nectar.” She and I moved, putting our backs up to Cooper and AB.

“How do you know?”

“Because I can feel the nectar pulsing, like it’s calling them.”

“Well, fuck if Mr. and Mrs. Jolly Roger are going to take it from us.” I snarled, pulling out my sword. My action was a declaration of war.

The necromancers moved faster than I was expecting; a bardiche weapon carving for me clanked against my blade. Its strength caused me to stumble to the side, unprepared for the power. Whirling around, I blocked the deadly bardiche weapon from slicing me in half, the razor edge cutting open my shirt, whispering against my skin.

Fuck, that was close.

Cooper roared, his claws clashing with their weapons, his Dark Dweller lashing out at three of them as the other three came for me and Katrina.

The problem was, even a Dark Dweller could be hurt. Could die.

Necromancers could not.

There was no fear if youweredeath.

“Ahhh!” Kat screamed as a lucerne hammer rammed down, flinging the sword from her hand, the metal skidding across the pavement. The necromancer lurched for her, its bony hands curling for her pack.

“Katrina!” I dove for her as a scythe came down on my leg from another necromancer. Blinding pain erupted through my muscles, dropping me to the ground with a bellow. My nerves howled, and excruciating agony tore through me. Vomit pooled in the back of my throat, watering my eyes. Peering up, I saw Katrina’s frame fall next to me on her back. The one with the Lucerne hammer stepped over her, pinning her to the cement with his weapon.

“Kat!” Her name was a hoarse whisper, and I tried to crawl across the ground to get to her, the scythe digging deeper into my leg. A pained howl echoed from Cooper, but my focus was hazy, completely locked on Kat.

I waited for them to kill us, to finish the job, but they just kept us both pinned down.

The leader of the necromancers was suddenly there. Its frame was petite, with long, desiccated hair, making me think it was a woman at one time. She stood over Katrina, awkwardly bent over with her warrior scythe.

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