***
“Do you still have the weapon I gave you?”
Casey’s adrenaline spiked. She watched a horde of daemons rush out of the trees on the far side of the clearing and charge the circle of mourners.
“Acacia!” Theron pulled his dagger with the thick blade from his back and glanced up at the canopy.
Fear clogged Casey’s throat as screams and fighting erupted in the clearing, but somehow she had the presence of mind to nod. She made sure the blade was still strapped to her calf where she’d put it this morning.
“Can you climb?”
“Climb? What—?”
He looked up again. “I’ll boost you up. Get as high in the trees as you can. Anything comes up after you, scream. Loud.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?” He was developing a sense of humor now?
He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and forced her to grab the first branch in the old-growth Douglas fir. “As high as you can, Acacia. Only use the weapon if you have to, and scream as loud as you can. I’ll be right here.”
He was leaving her?
“Wait.” Frantic, she grasped his arm even as he pushed her higher into the tree, and she had no choice but to grab on or fall. “Theron—”
He clasped her hand and locked his eyes with hers until it felt as if he was seeing the darkest place of her soul. Her breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to you, meli. Marissa was wrong. I will never let anything happen to you. Tell me you believe me.”
She nodded slowly and whispered, “I believe you.”
His eyes searched hers one last second before he nodded upward. “Go. Now.”
Casey hesitated only a moment to watch Theron charge into the battle happening in the clearing. He was all hulking muscle and deadly intent, joining Nick, who, along with a few other men from the colony, was beating back the dozen or so daemons who’d converged on what she could tell was a funeral.
God, Dana.
Weapons clashed with fangs and claws. Shouts and cries mixed with snarled grunts as fists met bone. When Theron was tossed to his back and a daemon charged for him, Casey slammed her eyes shut and shifted to look away.
Heart in her throat, she reached up and grabbed the next branch. Her hands shook as she climbed, the knife Theron had given her a solid weight pressed against her leg.
Please God, don’t let it slip and fall out.
She wasn’t fond of heights and she felt like a fool hiding out in this tree when people were possibly dying below, but if those monsters were here for her, she wasn’t stupid enough to hang out in the open.
Her hands burned as bark scraped her palms raw. She groaned at the ache in her arms as she climbed higher and told herself if she came through this alive—and Dr. Jill found a cure for whatever was wrong with her—she was definitely starting that workout program she’d been putting off for far too long. The sounds of the battle drifted up to her, but she blocked them out, tried not to listen for Theron’s voice. One thing, however, got through. A feral growling coming from the base of the tree.
She froze. Hoped she blended into the limbs. And prayed she was imagining things.
The growling grew louder. And then the entire tree began to shake.
Casey shrieked. Her fingers closed around a branch just as she lost her footing.
“There’s nowhere for you to go, half-breed,” the daemon below snarled. “Come down.”
Casey flailed out with her feet and finally found a thin branch that bent slightly under her weight. She pushed herself higher as her adrenaline spiked. A few more feet to that thicker branch above and she could let go with one hand and grab the knife.
“Come down!” the beast thundered.
“Fuck you!”
With a ferocious roar the daemon grabbed the trunk of the tree and shook violently. Casey screeched as the branch she’d been standing on snapped. Bark abraded her palms. Her fingernails dug into wood, sending slivers deep into her skin as she hung on with all her strength. Her body was thrown right and left as the tree bowed under the great force jerking it back and forth.
And then the unthinkable happened. The knife slipped out of its holster. Frantic, she tried to catch it with her shoe, but it was too late. Her only weapon fell free just as her hands slipped a fraction of an inch on the branch above.
The daemon saw her falter. And the SOB actually laughed.
Oh, shit.
Sweat broke out on her forehead. She was going to fall. She was sixty feet up, with no weapon and no one to save her. If, that is, she survived the drop.
Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.
“Theron!”
The branch she was holding snapped like a twig. And then all she felt was air.