Talon the Black (Dragonwall Series # 1)

Chapter 12 - The Fight

Battle Ground, Indiana

Claire's appearance on the porch went unnoticed. The fight between Cyrus and the Vodar was intense. The logical place to target his enemies was from the top of the porch stairs. Trying not to draw attention, she crept into position.

The Vodar's movements were well coordinated. Relentless. Their advantage, six to one, meant constant vigilance on Cyrus's part. Both of his hands were occupied wielding his Sverak, blocking and parrying every blow they dealt. He kicked and lunged, dancing back and forth. She watched, open mouthed, before collecting her wits. His skill was nothing short of incredible, but how long could he possibly keep up?

She placed the butt of the shotgun against her shoulder. Resting her cheek against it and positioning it along her line of sight, she squinted at the black figure furthest from Cyrus. If she missed, if she hit Cyrus....

No, she couldn't think like that. Planting her feet, she braced herself for the kick back. Three, two, one—

The shot rang out, silencing everything. The world around her slowed to a stop, except for the wraith she had hit. It stumbled backwards. As if hitting fast-forward, everything sped up again. Cyrus moved first, taking advantage of her distraction. He swept his blade around and removed the heads from his two nearest opponents. She hardly had time to watch.

The black figure she'd hit square in the chest regained its composure. It came for her, streaking across the grass.

"Shit!" She glanced around.

Fear flooded her system. She fired again, this time aiming for its head. The bullet made contact. The wraith exploded in a puff of smoke, disappearing. Her jaw dropped.

"Claire! No! Get out of here!" Cyrus fought with two others. She ignored him. The third remaining Vodar began gliding towards her, its short sword raised.

Her breathing came in gasps. She flung away her emptied shotgun and grabbed the revolver from her back pocket. Her hands trembled. She held it out in front of her and took aim. Not a moment too soon. She fired. Several blasts rang out, one after the next, mixing with the sound of clashing metal swords. Each bullet struck true.

Like magic, the Vodar exploded in a puff of smoke and disappeared. Their heads! That was the trick. She had to hit them in the head.

Cyrus did not have the luxury of a gun. He wrestled with the remaining two wraiths. Their movements were a blur. She tried to get a clear shot. It was impossible. Not without running the risk of shooting Cyrus.

She edged closer in hopes of distracting them. If she could separate them, she could get a clean shot. As she moved, she kept the revolver aimed in front of her. She was ready to pull the trigger at any moment.

"No—Claire!" Cyrus yelled.

One of the two wraiths spotted her. It backed away from Cyrus, moving quickly towards her. She didn't hesitate. Two shots rang out as she fired at the demon's face. It exploded into thin air.

She stared at the place it had disappeared—not quite believing.

Cyrus screamed. The sound echoed in her ears. Her breath caught in her chest. "Cyrus!"

The final Vodar wraith stood over him, its sword lodged too deep in his abdomen. Cyrus was on his knees, his face stricken, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

She took aim and sent a single bullet at the back of the Vodar's hooded head. She kept firing even as the revolver clicked empty. The demon disappeared in a puff, leaving wisps of smoke in its wake.