Anne Brontë Nightwalker

Chapter 54

In a rush, I'm on my feet, throwing Santos off Emily. He spins and moves for me in black fury.

I point to Webb. "Kill him."

His eyes follow my hand. Like an attack dog, he leaps, slamming Webb to the ground. He strikes hard and fast, pounding him in rapid fire before the Alpha can recover.

But Webb is a Day Walker, and Santos is no match.

Webb rises, shaking off the blows like a dog in a rainstorm. Each hit from Santos knocks him to his knees, but he is up again with a brutal smile.

I run to William. He's dropped the shotgun and torment is scrawled across his face. Carefully, I release him from the tree, stabilizing the blade in his shoulder. His breath comes ragged and blood drains down his shirt, drenching his chest. It smells so strong I can taste it. Fire and wisdom and moors riddled with grief.

"You shouldn't have come," he says through gritted teeth.

"I won't live without you," I whisper.

He shakes his head, refusing my words. "The shotgun," William rasps, nodding toward the fallen weapon. "It's chambered. Take it."

My eyes linger on his, not wanting to release him, but his gaze is hooded, his soul locked away. Beneath the trees, Savannah lies dead and nearby Emily struggles for life. William stumbles toward my sister and, sinking to his knees, presses the gaping wound in her neck with a handkerchief. They are both critically wounded.

Only Santos and I remain on our feet.

I reach for the shotgun. The metal is warm and light in my hands. Santos is slowing. He roars with every frustrated blow, yet Webb is like a bear shrugging off a rabid German shepherd. His strength is unnatural. Demonic. If Webb knew how to fight, Santos would be dead already.

With a violent kick, Santos slams him against a gnarled oak, then gulps at the air, struggling to breathe. He is faltering. I raise the gun for a shot, but Webb lunges up, charging his enemy. Santos stumbles out of the way and slips, his knee twisting. He crashes to the ground while Webb rushes at him like lightning.

I can't shoot Webb without hitting Santos.

In a blink, Santos scrambles up and pivots, sweeping Webb's feet out, hurling him back against the tree. Snow showers them like a baptism. Fog drifts across the moon casting the forest in shade. Santos gasps for air as if drowning.

I shove him aside.

The gun is unnatural to me and I toss it to my left hand and stand before the doctor, unafraid. He leans back against the tree as if resting a moment, unthreatened by my presence. He surveys me and a glimmer of pride flits across his face as if his little girl has finally grown up. A smile touches his lips.

It turns my stomach. The last thing I want is this monster's approval.

He looks at me almost seductively, blood dripping down his face as if he has a crown of thorns upon his head, and in that moment, Webb is beautiful. He wants me as I am and my heart leans toward him, desperate for acceptance. I feel a leap inside my chest like an addict who has unexpectedly stumbled upon her poison. With a wrenching of will, I gather my heart back to myself, enclosing it within my impenetrable dignity.

I need no acceptance from him.

I will be my own judge.

Not God.

Not family.

Only me.

Webb smiles. My entire body recoils upon itself, an instinct of spirit, for now he looks a lecherous Jesus. An abomination. A debasement of everything I hold selfless and pure. Medicine. Innocence. Savannah. Slowly, he moves toward me.

Grasping my saber, I drive it straight through Webb's chest.

"Payback," I hiss.

He growls, pinned like an insect, but bloody hell, I've missed his heart. The saber stakes the tree, sticking out the other side yet still Webb lunges for me. I slam my boot against him, pressing him back against the rough bark. His face is drawn, tight with fatigue, but I'm strong and new. Santos breathes hard beside me, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Blood drips from his head onto the ground like tears. He glares at Webb.

"Tell me, medic," Webb snarls. "How did Savannah taste?"

Fury lights my veins like fire. "How dare you take her?" I growl. "She was mine."

"Why did you bring her to me when she was perfectly fine?" asks Webb. "Was it because you were hungry? Or because you're a weakling who preys on the sick and injured like a virus."

My throat closes in guilt. "I protect the weak."

"You're not strong enough to protect anyone. Not even a little girl."

Savannah.

She lives within me now: mountains and wildflowers, family and love.

I ended her.

Swallowed her like a drop of honey.

Ate her like a wolf.

But as the earth is my witness, not a child on my watch shall ever be slain again. I'm changed. Awake. Now I will guard my strength and fight for it, eternal hellfire be damned.

Webb's time is over. My time has come.

"I am the Day Walker now."

He grasps my boot and laughs. "You don't have the heart for it."

"I will adapt." Sliding my boot to the tree, I place the barrel of the shotgun hard against Webb's chest. The beat of his heart thrums through the metal, traveling up into my palm. I feel it in my bones. He reaches for the barrel and tries to pull it away, but I'm the stronger one now.

I look him in the eye. His breath smells like death. "This is my town and your behavior will not be tolerated."

He roars and I pull the trigger. Fangs bared, he takes the hit as blood and flesh explode, raining down upon me. His chest opens like a great red sun and the smell of a thousand virgins drains into the night.