The Stone Warriors: Damian Read Free Page B

overwhelming him three to one. She waited until they were just past her position, then crept out of hiding behind them and picked them off one, two, three. Did she have a problem with shooting them in the back? Why no, she didn’t.
    As soon as they were down, she raced out of cover and over to where they lay on the ground, finishing each of them off with a bullet to the head. No telling who among them was a magic user.
    She was breathing hard, standing over the last dead body, when a deep, rumbling growl reminded her of something she shouldn’t have forgotten. The damn hellhounds were now unbound. One of these dead men had been their handler. Every instinct was screaming at her to back away, to run, but her brain was telling her that would be a mistake. She had to stand her ground, establish her dominance. Or at least try to. Logically, she knew that wouldn’t last, but her only weapon was her Glock and there were those thick skulls to contend with.
    One of the beasts took a threatening step closer. She jerked and instinctively started to step back.
    “Stand your ground,” a deep voice commanded.
    She risked a glance over her shoulder to find her new ally striding up the alley toward her, bloody sword in one hand, a HK MP 5 submachine gun in the other.
    “Eyes on the hound, woman, unless you want to die.”
    Casey’s eyes narrowed in irritation. He might be her rescuer, but that didn’t mean she had to put up with his macho bullshit. She’d kept herself alive this far . . . and okay, maybe there’d been a little help from him. She spun back around in time to see one of the hounds creeping close enough to reach her with a single leap. Damn. She raised her Glock. Maybe she couldn’t kill it, but she could hurt it, slow it down. The other beast leapt suddenly, powerful hind legs propelling the creature ten feet to where she stood. She swung her Glock up and fired, watching the bullets hit its massive chest and knowing it wasn’t going to be enough. She’d braced herself for impact, crouching down and protecting her face, ready to grab the beast and toss him through the air . . . when metal flashed in the dim light and a huge, fucking sword swung right over her head, slicing effortlessly through the hound’s thick skin and taking off his head.
    Casey screamed. Not in fear, but in disgust and anger as hot blood sprayed all over her, and the hound’s head rolled to her feet. “Shit,” she hissed, but kept her eye on the remaining beast. She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.
    “Shall I kill that one for you also?” The same rumbling voice asked the question with a definite snarky edge.
    “Would you?” she asked sweetly. “I’d be ever so grateful.”
    The blond snorted and lifted his blade, but the second hound growled loudly and backed away. He might be without a handler, but he wasn’t without a brain, no matter how tiny. He’d seen what that blade had done to his partner.
    “I can—” Casey lifted her Glock, intending to offer her assistance in dealing with the beast, something that involved shooting the creature as a distraction, if nothing else, but the arrogant ass cut her off.
    “Your gun is useless,” he said dismissively, then, using his left hand, he pulled a wicked knife from its sheath on his hip and threw it at the hellhound, hitting the creature in the neck. Casey opened her mouth to warn him that that wouldn’t be enough, but the man was already moving. He was on the hound almost before the blade struck, reaching out to grab the animal by the scruff as he shifted his grip on his sword, and efficiently removed its head.
    Casey saw it coming this time and stepped away, smirking when she saw the creature’s blood spurting all over the blond . . . when the thought suddenly struck her. Her pursuers were dead, the hounds were dead, and she was still alive. It was over, and she still had. . . . Shit! The Talisman. She rushed back to her hiding place behind the dumpster. No