Summon Toren(97)

Toren's armor sprang to the surface as his body geared up for battle. His leather duster, reaching to mid-calf, morphed into a coat of mercury chain mail, the cloth flowing like mirrored liquid. In his right hand, a heavy spear materialized sporting a point so long and fine it was better classified a blade. The gun occupying his left hand resembled a giant revolver, the cylinder as big around as a basketball. Modeled after the M32 multiple grenade launcher, the weapon took massive fist-sized bullets loaded with compressed spiritual power that would blast just about anything back to hell.

The thing sniffing at the door was still there, occasionally poking at the door with a cautious finger or grunting. So far it must be alone and unsure what occupied the shed. Otherwise, it would have taken the door down and attacked already.

He moved to kick the door open before it summoned more of its kind, but a glance at Samantha gave him pause. With the clothing and her slim figure and short hair, she would have easily passed for a young male gunfighter from the Old West. Jeans, hat and boots with roweled spurs looked perfectly at home with the matched six-shooters on her hips. He couldn’t help be impressed with how quickly she’d managed to use her instincts and power. He wasn’t at all sure what she was capable of but the choices she'd made said she wasn’t sure either and limited her options because of it. Staying within her comfort zone for her first battle showed good instincts for tactical strategy.

Noticing his gaze on her, she shrugged as if to say It’s all I could do.

He leaned close and projected his feelings at her. Would she be able to read them? “I’m happy if you're happy. Just as long you don't forget you're a woman. My woman."

She narrowed her gaze at him and mouthed, “I know I’m your woman!” Then smiled proudly about it.

He nibbled at the delicate lobe, thrilled with the little shiver that ran through her. "Ready?"

Samantha nodded and drew her pistols and took a deep breath.

Toren hefted the M32 into firing position, lifted the spear, and reared back on one foot to kick the door outward.

The door splintered and flew out and the beast on the other side gave a shrill cry of shock. The surprise only lasted a whisper of a second, though, and it came back snarling.

Toren slipped the blade of his spear between the creature's ribs to puncture its heart. The creature exploded in a flash of light and smoke just as its twin skidded into reach.

The newcomer flew at Toren with claws and teeth bared.

No time to raise the spear or the M32, he braced for impact.

Instead of hitting his chest, the thing dropped to the ground at his feet, still twitching while the sound of revolver fire faded. Toren turned in time to see smoke wafting from the barrel of one of Samantha's guns. Judging by the size hole in its chest and the way the skin sizzled at the wound’s edges, she was packing some serious spiritual firepower in her little antique looking weapons. Nice.

With a nod of gratitude, Toren sprinted for the house.



** ** **



Sam stayed close on Toren's heels but before they made five of the hundred yards to the house, dozens of the monkey things appeared. Some dove from behind cover and others seemed to materialize from thin air. All of them were terrifying, huge mouths full of vicious-looking teeth ready to rip and tear flesh. Well, she had every intention of keeping all of her skin, and Toren's, in one piece.

He came to a sudden halt and she nearly ran over him. A quick glance around him showed a tight knot of the creatures blocking the path forward en masse.

She took a slow turn, searching for a way out. Even as she looked, the things seemed to multiply just at the outer limit of her peripheral vision.

"We're surrounded." She kept her voice to a whisper, counting on Toren to hear and hoping the creatures didn't understand English.

"Motherfuck!” The rage in his voice startled her. Without looking at her, he muttered harshly, “Listen to me. I want you to use your new sight. If one should get to you, locate the spinal cord and think of a weapon to sever it. Do you understand me.” It was a gritted command more than a question.

“Well-what about my guns?”

“No! The spinal cord is too small a target and it'll be moving. Please, just do as I say.”

His terror seeped into her blood and made her panic. “Can’t you-you do that pin cushion trick?” Her voice sounded shrill as black fur and huge teeth closed in like a noose.

“The auction is too close to here and that's a bigger power surge than flashing,” he whispered, seeming breathless before he even started. “Stay close and do not move away from me, no matter what. And I love you."

"You lead and I'll follow,” she hissed back, “and quit talking like you’re saying goodbye, you’re freaking me hell out!”