"So, I need to take her out," I muttered, studying the monitors intently one last time. I didn't know if I should be relieved or terrified that I didn't see Haniel or his group anywhere on the monitors.
"That’ll be the only chance we’ll have," Mark said as we exited the room.
"Do you know where the laboratory is?" I asked as we made our way down the hallway at a faster pace than before.
Mark shook his head. "No, I wasn’t given much freedom to move around."
"Well, this hallway has to lead somewhere," I said, increasing my speed. Seeing my friends in peril had spurred my new role as an Ascended into high gear and I once again took charge of the situation.
"I wonder why your father didn't bring us here when he abducted us last spring," I speculated as we veered off to the left to a different hallway.
"Because he wanted to be able to keep an eye on the other Guides and Protectors in our group. I think at the time, he truly thought he would successfully be able get at least half of us to Descend by destroying our relationships, especially after the progress he made with Harmony."
"How did he break the link between Harmony and Mason…" I started to ask when I felt the intensity of evil closing in on both sides of us. I stopped in mid-stride and pushed open the first door we came to. Mark followed my lead and did a quick survey of the room before gently pushing me in before him. The room was empty, but felt eerier than the hallway we had just exited. I shuddered from the waves of darkness that swirled around us in a thick fog.
"They're almost here," I told Mark as we faced the door.
He nodded his head grimly and leaned over to drop one of his makeshift clubs at his feet. I followed suit, knowing it would be less awkward for me to handle only one at a time.
"You have to slash the bigger Daemons across the throat to kill them," I said, raising the large butcher knife just as the door in front of us burst open.
Chapter 16
Three Daemons lurched at us through the doorway. I gulped back a scream as Mark pushed me behind him so he could face the Daemons alone. Using the wooden chair leg like a bat, he knocked one of the Daemons in the head, sending him to the ground with a resounding thud. Without pausing to think, I straddled the dazed Daemon, feeling the intense heat of its skin through my denim jeans. I sliced the blade of my knife across its neck, spilling its acid-like blood down its chest. I had to jump off as quickly as I had jumped on to avoid being burned. The Daemon had already started to burn from the inside out as I whirled around to assist Mark who was trying to hold off the remaining Daemons at once.
I noticed his movements were sluggish from lack of use over the last few months. I stuck the knife in my back pocket and grasped my club in both hands as firmly as I could. Both of them were so intent on finishing Mark, they didn't see me approaching from behind. I hit the closest one to me on the back of the head with as much force as I could muster. Momentarily stunned by the blow, it staggered on its feet, blindly swiping at me with its long claws. Dodging the claws, I swung the club again, this time smashing the Daemon across the face, spraying its disgusting green blood everywhere. He crashed to the floor at my feet and I couldn't help the triumphant smile that crossed my face as I watched Mark polish of the third Daemon.
I grabbed the knife from my pocket and turned to take care of the Daemon at my feet when white heat burned across the thigh of my right leg. Confused, I looked down and saw that the Daemon had regained consciousness and had used my cockiness against me, swiping at me with its razor-sharp claws.
Mark growled behind me as he spotted the free-flowing blood from the four slash marks that had left my jeans in a shredded mess. He leapt onto the Daemon, removing its head from its body in one swift move.
Breathing heavily, I stepped back from the two Daemons that were now smoldering at our feet.
"Holy frik, that stings," I muttered, sinking down on the ground so I could study my injury closer.
Mark sat down next to me. He studied the injury for a moment and cursed under his breath when he saw how deep the claws had dug into my leg. He ripped off his pullover sweater and jerked off his white undershirt revealing lean hardness that even in my pain-induced state had me catching my breath for a whole new reason. I watched as he methodically tore the white shirt into usable strips. His taut stomach muscles tightened as he tore though the cloth making it hard for me to tear my eyes away.
"Don't worry, I'm going to stop the blood from flowing," he said, misunderstanding why I looked dazed.
"Okay," I said, grateful for the first time that he could not read my thoughts anymore. I'm sure gawking at the lean muscles of a guy was some kind of faux pas in a situation like this.
Mark used the holes in my jeans to his advantage, ripping the bottom half of my jeans completely off of my injured leg. He made quick work, wrapping the pieces from his shirt around the oozing mess my leg had become. Once the injury was completely covered, he pulled the bottom half of my jeans back onto my leg. I admired his handiwork and resourcefulness. I was grateful that I had worn my favorite boot cut jeans since there was no way my skinny jeans would slide up over my injury without cutting off the circulation.
"Nice job," I said, struggling to stand up.
Mark reached down and hauled me to my feet effortlessly. "Can you put weight on the leg?" He asked, supporting all my weight.
"I think so," I said, balancing on one leg as I slowly eased weight on my injured leg. The sudden pressure made my injury burn, but I knew I could power through it.
Mark held me by the elbow as I adjusted my weight so that my good leg would take the brunt of the work.
"It stings, but nothing I can't handle. We should move on," I said, limping toward the door.
Mark kept a hand on my elbow as we continued our journey down the hallway. I could tell we were close to our destination by the swirl of evil that enveloped us the further we progressed into the heart of the mountain. I had to work to keep my composure from the bombardment of dark emotions emanating around.
"How did your dad get the money for all this?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the source that was making me sick. "I know he was involved in shady dealings, but this goes beyond that," I added.
"I'm not sure, but I guess when your buddy, buddy with The Dark One, money isn't an issue."