We?
Pete let out a cackle that sounded more like the screeching of a bird … but then the metal blade of the Reaper’s scythe came crashing down on his head. He screamed and let go of Katie. She sank to the ground, seemingly unconscious, just as Daniel burst out from behind the Reaper’s tattered robes and into the clearing.
I practically cheered when I saw him.
Pete screeched with anger.
Daniel smacked him in the head again with the scythe. It looked painful, but the blade was too dull to do any real damage. Daniel cast the weapon aside and grabbed Pete with his bare hands. Pete clawed at his grip and then went for Daniel’s neck, but Daniel pushed him away just in time. Pete whirled around and made a lunge at me instead. He sent a clawed hand at my face, ripping my mask off.
It fell to the ground, and my first instinct was to try to hide my face, to keep Pete from recognizing me, but really, what was the point now? Part of me wanted him to know it was me who was taking him down.
A shrill laugh escaped Pete’s lips. “As if I didn’t know it was you.”
“What?” I asked. As far as I knew, Pete should have thought I was your average mild-mannered pastor’s daughter. Not a demon hunter.
I jumped out of the way as Pete sent another clawed swipe at my face.
Daniel grabbed him from behind.
Pete struggled in his grasp. “They said you’d come for me!” he snarled. “They were waiting for me outside the hospital when I was reborn. They told me that all I had to do was kill that nurse and you’d eventually come looking for me. And they’d be waiting.”
“Who?” Daniel asked.
“My new family.” Pete broke free from Daniel’s grasp and tried to flip Daniel over his shoulder. Daniel was too quick and sent several punches into Pete’s side.
Pete grunted in pain. He stumbled away to the corner near the Frankenstein monster, holding his rib cage. At that moment he looked just like the old Pete Bradshaw. Not like some monster we’d come here to kill. For a second I wondered if I could still do it.
“Who are you talking about?” I asked, afraid I might already know.
Pete took in a deep, ragged breath through his nose. “Can’t you smell them coming? The people who want you dead.” Pete let out a sharp scream and ran at me. He looked like a rabid bat, claws extended, fangs bared. He was going for the kill.
As much as I hated to do it before getting a real answer, I thrust my stake deep into Pete’s chest. I let go, and he fell into the wall of brittle cornstalks. He clawed at the stake with his talonlike nails, scratching sparkly jewels from the hilt. He got purchase on the handle and pulled it out of his chest. It made a sound like something ripping through a paper bag. He looked at it with disdain and then threw it at my feet. A wicked smile curled on Pete’s lips, and he laughed.
“They’re gonna kill you,” he said, as his body burst into dust.
I clamped my hands over my face, not only so I wouldn’t inhale little Pete particles, but also because I couldn’t believe I’d actually killed Pete Bradshaw.
“What did he mean by … ?” Daniel started to ask, but a loud growling noise cut him off. Both our heads snapped toward the origin of the sound. It came from somewhere behind the Grim Reaper.
Another growl followed—from the opposite side of the clearing, beyond the tall cornstalks. Then more growling from outside all four walls of the square-shaped clearing.
“What the … ?”
The brittle cornstalks rustled and swayed and the growling grew closer.
“They’re coming through the corn,” I said.
And we were literally boxed in.
Pete had said that I should have smelled them coming, and now I did. Rotten meat and sour milk. Ahks and gelals, I thought, as dark figures burst through the cornstalks into the clearing. I recognized a few of them right away from my time imprisoned at the warehouse.