Immortal Hope Read Online Free PDF Page B

Pinpricks of pain stung his arms, his hands. He ground his teeth against the annoying stings and pressed forward, forcing the nytym back.
    Enraged by his advance, Azazel’s minion sought an overhead attack. Massing its grotesque form toward the ceiling, it loomed over him, poised for a deadly assault of fangs. But in so doing, the nytym made a fatal mistake. Its vulnerable underbelly stared Merrick in the face. He arced his sword across his body in a powerful slice that nearly cut the creature in half. It screeched in outrage. Teeth snapped as it writhed and hissed.
    Merrick jerked his sword free, assuring a speedy death. Another unholy scream filled the room as a stain of ebony poured down Merrick’s sword. With a shudder, the nytym fell still. Its horrendous form waivered in the light, then slowly disappeared, leaving only a pool of shadows on Anne’s carpet.
    Fatigue consumed Merrick. Lacking the ability to prepare for the inevitable surge of vileness upon his soul, he dropped to his knees and elbows, panting. As the nytym’s vile spirit soaked into him, his shoulders quaked. He fought for a normal breath. A low hum broke out in his ears, warmth filtered through his body, and a frightening feeling of weightlessness settled over him.
    “Hey.”
    Anne’s voice pulled him back from the edge of a damning abyss. He could not allow her to see him this way. Though she might not be the demon he once thought her, she had power. Until he knew what it was, he could not risk her escape. He clung to the sound of her voice, its melodic cadence his only foothold on awareness. Trickles of sticky wetness seeped around his ribs, telling him he bled.
    “Hey.” Closer now, her voice took on strength. The hum in his head faded. His vision slowly returned. Yet he could not find the strength to move. “Are you okay?”
    The touch of gentle fingertips upon his shoulder was his undoing. They explored the claw marks he knew shredded his shirt and filleted his flesh. He sank into the carpet with a silent sigh and lay absolutely still, the tenderness of her touch a luxury he had not experienced in hundreds of years. He caught the scent of her perfume, a subtle blend of lavender and warm sugar that stirred some forgotten feeling deep inside his heart.
    “Oh God, you’re bleeding,” she whispered. “Let me get something to clean you up with.” Her hand disappeared, taking with it his brief surrender.
    As it occurred to him she would leave, he mustered his energy and brought himself to his knees. “Nay. Stay where you are.”
    Her delicate features pulled with confusion. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”
    And mayhap out the back door. He pushed himself to his feet with a fierce shake of his head. “Sit down.” He pointed at the couch.
    The woman let out what could only be a grumble of extreme annoyance and made her way to the couch. As she passed, he took in low-slung jeans that flared over her stylish brown boots. He would never understand why the modern woman felt the need to dress like a man. Yet the loose hem of her blue top gave him a tempting glimpse of a flat abdomen as she tossed aside a throw pillow. His gaze shifted upward to admire the gentle slope of full breasts.
    She fastened a glare on him as she flounced into the cushions. Arms crossed beneath her breasts, the soft flesh there pushed against the flimsy material of her short-sleeved blouse. Merrick swallowed. He knew he stared, but he cared not. It had been far too long since a woman had aroused his baser instincts. And this one disturbed them tenfold.
    “I appreciate all the macho-guy sword fighting and all. But you’re bleeding all over my carpet.”
    Merrick frowned. Would that her demeanor was as sweet as her body. “’Twill cease.” Already he could feel the bleeding lessen. The wounds would scab over, and by the time Declan and Farran arrived, be little more than faint scars. Immortality kept him from bleeding to death. ’Twas the darkness that slayed.