Talent snarled. With whippet-fast speed, he caught hold of the crawler’s arm and simply ripped it off. Metal gears and springs pinged to the ground, and fresh, hot oil splattered. It did little good. The crawlers advanced, pinning her and Talent against the wall.
Another blast of fire hit, leaving Talent barely enough time to cover Mary with his enormous wings. But it wasn’t enough to protect her from the heat and pain of fire nipping through the hole in his wing. She ground her teeth against it as she clutched Talent’s massive shoulders.
Above her he panted, sweat dripping down from his temples.
“Talent.” Blood bubbled through her lips, and agony burst through her shattered cheek. He winced as he looked over her face. With effort she kept speaking. “When I fade, rip out the hearts.” The crawlers would guard them with their lives, but if Mary was successful, they wouldn’t have a chance to. “Watch their eyes. Attack when they dim.”
Talent’s brows snapped together. “Fade?” His voice was a rasp of pain, and he appeared on the cusp of protesting.
They didn’t have time to waste. Surprising herself, she touched his cheek. The contact made them both flinch.
“Do it,” she said. Then left her body.
It was fast. And more forceful than she’d ever attempted. Mary’s spirit shot straight through Talent, and she felt the warm glow of his soul and his lurch of shock as she passed. Then she slammed straight into the golden crawler. Its body was a dense mass of misery, the soul trapped within screaming for release. Pity made her heavy. The crawler fought as she wrapped herself around it and tugged the soul free. Out of the body they went, Mary and the pitiful soul of the crawler.
Below her, Talent whirled about and tore straight into the now-empty shell of the crawler’s body. Teeth bared on a snarl, Talent yanked out the clockwork heart, and the body toppled.
As soon as the body fell, the soul in Mary’s arms eased and stretched up toward the night. Like a shooting star, it trailed across the sky then disappeared.
Bloody, buggering hell. Jack’s teeth ground as the remaining crawler leapt upon his back and its iron fingers tore through his flesh. He smashed a fist into the crawler’s gut but hit a gate of metal ribs for his efforts. Bad hit. Learn from your mistakes, mate. Nearly all of the crawler’s body was metal, a thick shell that withstood Jack’s blows. Over the grinding of gears and the whistle of steam came the ominous whoosh of fires being stoked within the thing’s lungs, and Jack braced for another blast. The massive wings on his back, the ones that had popped out as if by instinct, throbbed in pain, but they could apparently withstand fire. But if the dull ache coming from them meant anything, there was a limit to their strength. And unfortunately the crawler had him by the shoulder, leaving him no way to turn. The fire was going to come at him full on.
Shit and piss, this was going to hurt.
But then a shroud of blessed cold surrounded him, then passed through him. Chase. He’d felt her slide through him before, a second after her eyes went dim and her body fell limp. If he lived a hundred years more, he’d never grow accustomed to the sight of her simply vacating. It unnerved him to the core. But now, when the crawler’s red eyes suddenly went black and its body slackened, he might have kissed Chase in gratitude. Somehow she’d drawn the crawler’s soul out, leaving Jack free to make the kill.
He didn’t waste time. Skin ripped from his knuckles as he punched past the metal rib cage and grasped the clockwork heart. Hot oil and solid iron filled his palm before he tore the device free. The crawler didn’t even flinch as it crashed to the ground with earthshaking force.
For a long moment, Jack panted as blood dripped from various wounds. Then he turned and knelt by Chase’s prone form, close enough to feel the residual warmth of her body and bask in her cinnamon-and-spice scent. “Chase?”
Christ, but her body did not look good. A massive bruise colored her right temple and her eye was swollen shut. Blood crusted her lips. But it was her cheek that worried him. The crawler’s hit had crushed the bone, caving in the side of her face. So delicate, Mary Chase was. Illusions, for she’d heal soon enough. But the thought of someone hitting her, damaging that fragile beauty, made his breath catch.
She came back into her body with a jolt and inhaled sharply, her body stiff as starch. Her wide golden eyes shimmered with pain. And it was bad. Her body twitched, her lips pressed tight as if she held in a cry. Before he could think, he cupped her good cheek with infinite care. He’d never touched her in tenderness. And he cursed himself for doing it now. Even so, his thumb caressed the silk of her skin.