Raven's Peak Read Online Free PDF Page A

yet.”
    “Oh?”
    “I have a counter offer,” Arthur said. He turned his body away from the demon, cutting his palm with the blade. He did it smoothly, out of her sight. “If you leave now, I won’t hunt you through hell.”
    The demon laughed, but this time, it was less confident. Arthur raised the gun, firing another shot, and the demon charged back in. The stub was empty, so he tossed it aside, ducking an attack and countering.
    It only took seconds to realize how outmatched he was in this second engagement. Arthur’s adrenaline was wearing out and the demon was still sizing him up. His tricks weren’t as impressive this time around, and he was half a step slower.
    The demon was fast, pushing Abigail’s honed reflexes well beyond human limitations. It didn’t need to rest, didn’t need breaks. It didn’t care what happened to her, whether it shattered her hands or tore her muscles. It was relentless.
    Inevitably, a hit landed. It caught Arthur in the ribs, just under the lung. He felt the air rush out and collapsed to one knee. One rib, at least, was cracked.
    The demon followed through with a roundhouse kick, catching him on the side of the head. The world went out of focus, and he tried to find his feet.
    The demon didn’t let him, kicking him in the ribs again and knocking him back down. If the rib hadn’t pierced his lung, he would be lucky.
    He tried to suck in air but got nothing. He crawled away and heard the demon laughing. His shirt was wet, and he felt blood streaming down the side of his face.
    “That’s it? Already done?”
    Arthur moved toward the dais, leaving bloody handprints behind him. Another kick sent him down, but he kept crawling.
    “I expected more!”
    His vision closed in, and he could only see through pinholes when he reached the dais.
    The demon hit him again and laughed. “Get up! I’m not done with you yet!”
    He pulled himself alongside the three girls, gasping.
    “You can’t save them,” the demon said, laughing. “You are nothing. Pathetic and weak. Explain to them that you failed. Tell them that they belong to me now.”
    He knelt between the girls, muttering. He pressed his palm against their foreheads, smearing his blood from the cut.
    “Praying? It’s too late for that now,” the demon said. It knelt next to him. “Are you asking God why she abandoned you?”
    Arthur ignored the demon and kept muttering in Latin. It listened for a second, then he felt it tense up beside him.
    “That isn’t a prayer,” the demon said.
    Arthur stopped, one word short of finishing his litany, and faced the demon. “No,” he said. “It isn’t.  Hanc.”
    The hit landed a split-second later, a punch to the side of his head that rocked his neck and threw him to the ground. He groaned and rolled, leaning against the dais.
    Abigail roared in anger, pacing in front of the girls. Abigail’s hand was broken, the bones shattered from hitting Arthur with the full force of her muscles. It hung limp at her side, unnoticed by the demon.
    “What have you done?” the demon screamed, gesturing toward the girls.
    “The thing about being a legend,” Arthur groaned, “is you learn a few tricks.
    Abigail screamed and kicked him again.
    “You claimed them!”
    “And now you can’t touch them.”
    “But you aren’t a demon!”
    “No,” he mumbled. “Not quite.”
    He rolled and slipped his hand into his pocket. 
    This was his last shot, and this time, he did pray. Just a quick request. He’d already done everything he could, protecting the girls, and this would be his Hail Mary. He was dead either way.
    He slid to a knee, popped the vial in his hand, and scattered liquid into the air. The demon tried to avoid it, but some landed on its skin. It seared where it touched, sizzling like bacon. Arthur climbed to his feet and began chanting, sanctifying. He begged God to ordain Abigail, to protect her.
    He prayed, for the first time in many long years, that God would listen.
    The