F. E. Heaton by Seventh Circle

Author:Seventh Circle
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-07-02T13:10:19+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Lincoln held his hand up and Lilith listened hard. Another scream, quickly followed by another. She looked around them. They were almost back at the mansion. Her heart accelerated to a thundering rhythm that commanded she run. She did. She ran straight for the compound and, terrifyingly, straight in the direction of the screams.

It was a cacophony, a blood-curdling discordant melody that chilled her to the bone.

She ran faster, instinct shouting that her home was under attack. Her friends were under attack.

Lincoln grabbed her arm and tugged her off the road. She followed him up the steep tree-covered embankment towards the gardens. He was right. If they were under attack, it would be foolish to run in a direction that was likely to be guarded and watched.

Breaking free of the bushes, she continued running blind until Lincoln’s hand on her wrist stopped her. She looked at him, a frown marring her brow. He was stood perfectly still, staring past her towards the house. She turned there. Her blood ran cold.

Everywhere people were fighting.

Everywhere her friends were dying.

“Guards,” Lincoln muttered behind her.

She scoured the scene, stopped when she recognised a few of the people from her company and then froze when she saw him.

The man who’d had Lincoln was here.

She could only watch as he tore one of the female hunters apart, tossing her around as though she were a ragdoll. It turned her stomach to see so much violence and smell so much blood. The breeze carried it to her. The scent of death.

She tried to move. Lincoln held her tight, his grip vice-like and unrelenting.

“We have to go,” he said.

“No.” She shook her head and prised his fingers off her. She couldn’t leave them. She had to help.

A woman caught her eye. It took her a moment before she realised it was the one she’d shot the day she’d rescued Lincoln. The woman was fighting with the same ferocity as the man, only her power was less. Even from this distance, Lilith could see that the man far outranked her in both skill and standing.

Lilith ran at her, intent on killing her this time.

Lincoln grabbed her again, this time dragging her backwards into his arms and wrapping them around her chest like steel bands.

“We have to flee,” he whispered into her ear.

A part of her wanted to do as he said. The greater part denied his order.

“I can fight,” she said and elbowed him hard to make him let her go. He only held her tighter. “I have to help them!”

“I cannot allow you to commit suicide.” There was such force in those words and the way he held her.

When she reached out a little with her senses, she could feel the emotions inside him—fear mixed with affection.

She struggled against him. It didn’t matter what he felt or that he was trying to protect her. All that mattered was her friends were being killed and she had the power to help them.

“Let me go,” she said and wriggled. “I can help.

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