End Game (Vampire Hunter Book 6) by S.C. Reynolds Read Free Book Online

it’s gray,
disgusting face, but the wendigo barely flinched. 
    “The only way to stop it is to stab it,” came Jet’s weak voice.
    The wendigo threw me off of him and climbed back to it’s feet. It had no
interest in me. All it wanted was Jet. And I was the only thing that could stop
it.
    There was no knife. I’d have to improvise.
    Feeling like my body was on fire, I pressed forward, positioning myself
in between the wendigo and Jet. It hissed and spat at me, but I didn’t flinch.
I clenched my fist and pulled it back by my side, then punched the wendigo as
hard as I could, dead in the chest.
    My hand broke through slimy skin and I felt it connect with something
hard. And before I had time to comprehend what was happening, there was a heap
of dust around me.
    “Is it dead? Is it really dead?” I shrieked, my voice sounding hysterical
even to my own ears.
    “It’s dead,” Jet echoed, clutching his leg in agony.
    I rushed to his side. “Why are you so hurt?” I asked in a shrill voice.
“Why aren’t you healing?”
    “I didn’t tell you beforehand,” Jet said through gritted teeth, “because
I didn’t want to worry you. But excruciating pain isn’t the only reason to
avoid wendigo claws. They release venom. Into your bloodstream. If you didn’t
notice, they aren’t exactly quick movers. That’s how they stun their prey.”
    “Are you going to be okay?” I shrieked. “We have to get out of here!”
    “I can’t move,” Jet said. “I’m in too much pain and the venom is
paralyzing me. You’ll have to go get help.”
    “I’m not leaving you!” I said, fighting the rising hysteria that was
threatening to take over.
    “You don’t have a choice!” Jet boomed.
    “Please, Jet.” I reached out and pulled back the leg of his torn jean,
which was soaked with blood. The gash from the wendigo’s claws looked
incredibly deep and painful.
    “It’s not so bad,” I lied.
    Jet choked out a laugh. “Nice try.”
    I leaned in to study the wound. The cut ran from his ankle up to his
knee. “What if I help move you?” I asked.
    “I can’t even lift my leg.”
    As gently as possible, I slid my hands under Jet’s injured leg. “If you
can crawl, I can brace your leg, carry it,” I said, wondering how the hell we’d
get through the tunnel with me trying to carry Jet’s leg. But I couldn’t leave
him, and if we stayed here we were sitting ducks. Jet had been wrong about
there only being two wendigos – what if even more were going to show up?
    Jet winced at my touch.
    “I’m sorry,” I said hurriedly, “but we have to leave. I don’t care what
it takes, but I am getting you out of here.”
    “Wait,” Jet said.
    “Please, we don’t have time!” I exclaimed.
    “No, wait,” Jet repeated. “Something’s happening. Your touch – it’s
almost like it’s numbing the pain.”
    “What?” I asked in surprise.
    “I’m serious,” Jet said. “See, look, I can move my foot now. I couldn’t
even do that before.” He twisted his ankle from side to side to prove his point.
    Excitedly, I moved my hands closer to the oozing wound. “What about now?
Is it getting better?”
    “I think it is!”
    And before our very eyes, the gaping, hideous wound closed up and faded
into skin.
    Jet and I looked at each other, mouths hanging open. “I can move my leg!”
he exclaimed. “What the fuck? Aurora, you healed me!”
    “I – I don’t know how,” I stuttered.
    Jet let out a whoop. “I don’t care how. I thought – if I
could make it out before I lost consciousness – that I was going to have
to get a blood transfusion. But now, I think the venom is gone. You
neutralized it and healed my wound.”
    Jet climbed to his feet, tentatively putting weight on his formerly gimp
leg. “It’s fine. It feels 100% normal,” he said. Jet’s face, which had been a
ghastly white, was starting to return to its normal pale color.
    “Let’s go!” he said.
    I didn’t need to be told twice. We