Ascendance Read Online Free PDF

of the naked flames from burning cars and the firewall kept them from rampaging up toward Times Square or further down into the theatre district. Traffic was piling up behind the obstacle, and getting worse as people abandoned their vehicles and fled.
    The only thing stopping the tiny monster war band from forcing their way out of the intersection and charging down the terrified masses was Colonel Karin Varatchevsky, and two of New York’s finest, looking very much like two of New York’s most freaked out.
    Bodies lay everywhere, extravagantly mutilated. But human corpses were not the only lifeless remains at Broadway and 42nd Street. Dave counted two Hunn and three Fangr down. Two of the Fangr looked like they’d been shot but a third, like the dead Fangr he had seen a few seconds ago, had obviously been carved up by Karen and her blade, which was dripping darkly. The surviving daemonum snapped and snarled at her, hunkering down on their powerfully muscled haunches, which twitched and spasmed as they either restrained themselves or tried to work up the courage for another rush.
    None of the Hunn had Warat’s full attention, however. That she reserved for the final member of their war party. The Threshrend daemon. As best Dave knew, they were empaths who amplified the feelings and, to a lesser extent, the thoughts of friend and foe alike. Urgon regarded them as little more than meat trumpets for blowing before battle.
    Warat held the gore-streaked katana toward the warrior beasts as a warding totem, but to the toad-like monstrosity with the forest of wandering eyestalks, the Threshrend, she held out her free hand, like a traffic cop. Dave supposed she had to know what she was doing.
    Whenever a Hunn would inch forward she turned her body a few inches to meet the possible attack, but her gaze was focused on the ugly, wart-covered empath daemon.
    Unsurprisingly, the crowd was thin around them. No sane person wanted to put themselves into that killing field. But that didn’t mean it was entirely free of nutjob bystanders. Dozens of witnesses remained, either too shocked and frightened to flee, lest that movement draw attention to them. Or because they were just dumbfucks with camera phones.
    Dave carefully approached the cops, hefting Lucille into a two-handed grip. His head seemed fuzzier the closer he drew to them, and his hunger increased. Not ravenous yet, but already uncomfortable in spite of the nearly raw meat he had only just consumed.
    ‘Coming up behind you,’ he said, loud enough to be heard over the crowd noise.
    ‘Get back, you idiot,’ one of the police officers barked, never taking his eyes off the Hunn. Or rather, off their nut sacks which, as always, were swinging low beneath coarse chain mail and Drakon-hide armour. Dave had to admit, Hunn junk was a horribly mesmerising sight.
    ‘He’s with me,’ Karen said over her shoulder, still not taking her eyes off the empath.
    The cop risked a glance back at Dave. His name tag read Chadderton. It took a moment but Dave saw the recognition light up the man’s eyes.
    ‘You. Oh thank Christ.’
    ‘Hey,’ Karen said sharply. ‘Who got here first and saved your asses?’
    ‘Sorry, ma’am,’ said the other cop. A woman. Dave couldn’t see her name tag.
    The snarls and grunts of the Horde, the musky scent of them, recalled visits to the zoo with his kids. Happy days. Or happier than this at any rate. The moment seemed finely, if not perfectly, balanced, with Karen unable to do any more for some reason, undoubtedly related to her psychic face-off with the Threshrend, and the Hunn unwilling to take a chance that she’d carve them up the same way she had their nest mates. Dave thought about breaking the stand-off by taking one of the cops’ guns and shooting the biggest Hunn in the balls, if only to teach them the wisdom of wearing pants. But he wasn’t sure he could pull off the feat – walking up, smoothly taking the gun and making the shot.
    He’d