Body Surfing

eyes were closed, her legs splayed, her hands curled around the spear Leo had thrown at her, which was buried in her stomach. Already the huntress’s hands were so red it seemed she wore gloves.
    Ileana’s head jerked up. Her eyes opened, her lips curled back in a snarl. Her teeth were outlined in red, and a thin trickle dribbled down her cheek. He’s pierced the stomach, Q. thought. She’ll choke on her own blood, if she doesn’t bleed to death first.
    The huntress spat blood. She said something in a language Q. didn’t understand, then made a grab for the gun. She cried out in pain as the spear shifted in her gut, and a fresh well of blood pooled around her fingers. Undaunted, she reached instead for her boot and pulled out the stone knife Q. had seen her sharpen every morning since they’d met.
    “It’s been too long,” she said, beckoning Leo with her blade. “Come closer so I can give you a proper welcome.”
    Leo’s laugh echoed so loudly through the forest that a bird flapped from a nearby branch, and, calling in alarm, flew away.
    “Oh, you are a fierce one, sestra . I feel a kind of belated fatherly pride, finding out that this is what’s become of you. I only wish I’d known sooner, so I could have followed your progress more thoroughly.” He stood up and walked toward the huntress. “You are Athena to my Zeus, after all, a goddess of war sprung fully formed from my head.”
    Ileana waved the knife weakly. “Let’s see if I can cut my way back inside.”
    Q. glanced around in search of a weapon. He spied the syringe, saw that the barrel was still half full with whatever serum had incapacitated Jasper. Leo continued to advance on Ileana, slowly, savoring the moment.
    Q. wasn’t going to get a better opportunity. He threw himself off the paramedic’s prostrate body and dove for the syringe.
    Leo’s head whipped around, but even as he started to move in Q.’s direction there was a gurgling scream from the huntress, half rage, half pain, as she used all her remaining strength to hurl the stone knife at the demon. She threw with no thought of her own survival: the shaft of wood in her stomach was literally lifted up by spasming abdominal muscles, and a sludgy river of blood surged from the wound. Her hands fell to her sides, her head slumped forward. It seemed the stake in her gut was all that kept her from falling over.
    But Leo had calibrated her body well all those years ago. Q. was well nigh invulnerable, but Ileana was as close to a killing machine as a human being could be. Her aim was true. The throw was hard. Three inches of razor-sharp stone embedded themselves in Michaela’s neck, and a fountain of blood spurted from the wound.
    The demon stumbled and sank to his knees. Q. grabbed the syringe. He sprang to his feet and lunged for Leo, but the demon was already up. He staggered out of reach. He would’ve fallen had a tree not been there to catch his host’s body. Michaela’s body. The left side of her torso was already coated in blood. From ear to ankle she was awash in a pink-red smear. The sight was so shocking that for amoment Q. forgot what was inside her—forgot that he was trying to kill her—and instead almost ran to her aid. But then she reached up and, shakily but determinedly, pulled the knife from her throat. She held it out as if to show Q. just how far it had penetrated, and then her fingers closed around the blade and snapped it into pieces. Her mouth opened, but all that came out was a stream of blood.
    Leo beckoned Q. Come on , he mouthed through the viscous bubbles that spewed from his lips. Bring it on .
    Q. advanced on Leo as warily as the Mogran had walked toward Ileana. One step, another. The hand with the syringe shook so badly that he almost dropped it.
    A smile parted Leo’s bloody lips, and he gurgled something that Q. thought was supposed to be a laugh. He pushed himself off the trunk unsteadily, wavered a moment, then caught his balance. And then he ran.
    Q. was about to go after the demon. But then his eyes were caught by the huntress. He had no idea if Ileana was still alive, let alone savable, but going after Leo would almost assuredly mean her death. And there was Jasper to consider, assuming he, too, was still alive.
    Q. looked at the demon’s retreating form. It seemed that he was moving faster, as if he was already starting to recover from his wound.
    “Fuck!” Q. jammed the cap back on the syringe and started toward J.D. Thomas’s