Read Online Possessed (Book One of the Hollow City Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel by Hazel Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Hazel Hunter
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blob that was overwhelming her. Even in her panic, however, she managed to keep her bare hand away from his skin.
“Little bitch,” he hissed. “They need you alive, but they don’t need your legs, little bitch. Did you think of that? I’ll haul you across fifty miles of bad country with your legs broken. What do you think of that?”
Whatever Gillian might have thought of it, Max obviously didn’t care for the idea. He flew from her pocket, launching himself across her torso. Gillian heard the painful crunch when he bit into the Templar’s hand. She knew that rat teeth were notched so that they could scissor apart their food. When they were panicked or angry, they could bite off chunks of flesh. And right now, Max was both.
The Templar howled, shoving her back. Gillian scrambled to scoop up Max’s flailing form. As she did so, however, she forgot about her bare hand. It touched one of the Templar’s, and her vision went red.
She fell to the ground.
Somewhere above her, the Templar was shouting with pain. Suddenly, he stopped screaming completely. A sickening thump of something heavy hitting the ground echoed against the cliffside. Gillian didn’t care. Distantly, she was aware that Shayne was kneeling over her. She could make out his face in the flickering light of the fire, startled and wild with concern. If she had been able to, she would have reached up to comfort him. She wanted to sit up. She wanted to shake in his arms, she wanted to cry.
Instead, she only stared up at him, her eyes wide and glassy. It felt as if she was under a thick pane of ice. She could see him, but she couldn’t feel him or touch him.
I’m so sorry, Shayne, she thought, and then her vision went black.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHAYNE HAD ONCE been ambushed by four Templars, while he was drunk in an alleyway in London. He had known that there were too many of them to fight off. He had known that one way or another, even if he managed to take one or two of them down, they would kill him. They almost did kill him, but then John Lancaster had appeared to drive them off. Shayne had been convinced that moment would go down as the time when he was the most afraid. Now he knew that fear didn’t hold a candle to what he felt when he saw the Templar practically on top of Gillian. He was already throwing himself across the clearing when the Templar lurched back. Gillian dropped to the ground like a rock. His first instinct was to go to her, but he knew he had to take care of the Templar first.
He slit the man’s throat with the same motion that he had used to dispatch the man’s three friends. Finally, he could kneel next to Gillian. Strangely enough, the first thing that he noticed was that one of her gloves was off. It left her bare hand pale in the light of the fire. Still more strange were her eyes. They were dilated so wide her gray irises were nearly gone. The look on her face was one of pure terror.
He didn’t know what he was saying. He knew that he called her name. He knew that he was shaking her. He even tried slapping her gently to rouse her. Instead, she remained stiff. It seemed like every muscle in her body was locked tight. She had gone into some state where she couldn’t see or hear anything around her.
Finally, mercifully, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she went limp. For a moment, he feared the worst. Then he found her pulse, strong and steady. She had simply blacked out. Though he hardly liked her lying insensible on the ground, it was still far better than that all-consuming terror.
As gently as he could, he picked her up and lay her in the shelter of the cliff face. He turned his attention to the Templar he had killed. For a moment, an old and ugly instinct rose up in him. He wanted nothing more than to slash at the body, even if it was already dead. There were things that men had once done after battle was over, terrible things. Instead, Shayne took a deep breath. He dragged the man into the woods, well away from
“Little bitch,” he hissed. “They need you alive, but they don’t need your legs, little bitch. Did you think of that? I’ll haul you across fifty miles of bad country with your legs broken. What do you think of that?”
Whatever Gillian might have thought of it, Max obviously didn’t care for the idea. He flew from her pocket, launching himself across her torso. Gillian heard the painful crunch when he bit into the Templar’s hand. She knew that rat teeth were notched so that they could scissor apart their food. When they were panicked or angry, they could bite off chunks of flesh. And right now, Max was both.
The Templar howled, shoving her back. Gillian scrambled to scoop up Max’s flailing form. As she did so, however, she forgot about her bare hand. It touched one of the Templar’s, and her vision went red.
She fell to the ground.
Somewhere above her, the Templar was shouting with pain. Suddenly, he stopped screaming completely. A sickening thump of something heavy hitting the ground echoed against the cliffside. Gillian didn’t care. Distantly, she was aware that Shayne was kneeling over her. She could make out his face in the flickering light of the fire, startled and wild with concern. If she had been able to, she would have reached up to comfort him. She wanted to sit up. She wanted to shake in his arms, she wanted to cry.
Instead, she only stared up at him, her eyes wide and glassy. It felt as if she was under a thick pane of ice. She could see him, but she couldn’t feel him or touch him.
I’m so sorry, Shayne, she thought, and then her vision went black.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHAYNE HAD ONCE been ambushed by four Templars, while he was drunk in an alleyway in London. He had known that there were too many of them to fight off. He had known that one way or another, even if he managed to take one or two of them down, they would kill him. They almost did kill him, but then John Lancaster had appeared to drive them off. Shayne had been convinced that moment would go down as the time when he was the most afraid. Now he knew that fear didn’t hold a candle to what he felt when he saw the Templar practically on top of Gillian. He was already throwing himself across the clearing when the Templar lurched back. Gillian dropped to the ground like a rock. His first instinct was to go to her, but he knew he had to take care of the Templar first.
He slit the man’s throat with the same motion that he had used to dispatch the man’s three friends. Finally, he could kneel next to Gillian. Strangely enough, the first thing that he noticed was that one of her gloves was off. It left her bare hand pale in the light of the fire. Still more strange were her eyes. They were dilated so wide her gray irises were nearly gone. The look on her face was one of pure terror.
He didn’t know what he was saying. He knew that he called her name. He knew that he was shaking her. He even tried slapping her gently to rouse her. Instead, she remained stiff. It seemed like every muscle in her body was locked tight. She had gone into some state where she couldn’t see or hear anything around her.
Finally, mercifully, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she went limp. For a moment, he feared the worst. Then he found her pulse, strong and steady. She had simply blacked out. Though he hardly liked her lying insensible on the ground, it was still far better than that all-consuming terror.
As gently as he could, he picked her up and lay her in the shelter of the cliff face. He turned his attention to the Templar he had killed. For a moment, an old and ugly instinct rose up in him. He wanted nothing more than to slash at the body, even if it was already dead. There were things that men had once done after battle was over, terrible things. Instead, Shayne took a deep breath. He dragged the man into the woods, well away from
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