Chapter Thirty-Seven: Silver Wounds Don’t Heal
I stared up into the rafters of the pine wood stave church. The batlike immortal assassin dropped from the belfry towards us. The immortal’s wings spread like a vast leather cloak, slowing the creature’s descent. It aimed massive claws on its toes at me as it dropped towards us. I could hear cries of alarm from the priests. Somebody was yelling my name. I shifted my weight and felt the dirt sliding under my feet. I had forgotten that stave churches had dirt floors. I tried to steady myself and failed. I was too unsteady after so many visions and so much trauma. I wobbled in place, unable to dodge without falling over. I realized that I was about to die. I didn’t want to die. I liked my new life. But what could I do? I had no way of stopping an immortal in combat. I couldn’t dodge, couldn’t even maintain my balance. Fiona and Vincent had been captured and couldn’t help me. I was going to die. Lynn hammered into my right hip and knocked us both out of the downward path of the ...