Mercy Thompson 06 - River Marked

attacked from above, but the devil was too far out in the middle of the river. Even with my night vision, I had trouble seeing what was going on. I grabbed my water socks and pulled them on my feet, ignoring the rough tear that wept blood on the foot I’d managed to brace on the river devil’s teeth.
    The fight was moving gradually toward the little swimming hole, and I felt Adam’s attention focus as he figured out what she was doing. Our bond allowed me to understand it, too: she was herding them into the cove because she didn’t want anyone to escape, and it would make it easier for her to locate body parts if she missed anything.
    It would make my job easier, too.
    I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to get Adam to let me back in the water. I was pretty sure I was going to be terrified—
    She was close enough I could see her bright green eyes—which meant that Adam and I were too close to the river.
    “Come on,” I said. “Let’s—”
    There was a tremendous splash and her head lifted out of the water. Speared on her teeth was a man with a canine head. She opened her mouth as a single tentacle pulled him off the teeth that impaled him. She threw him into the air, and, tipping her head back, caught him in her rear teeth and chewed him to bits.
    Adam collapsed, like a puppet whose strings were cut. Coyote howled a tribute.
    She had eaten Wolf.
    I didn’t know what had happened to Adam. He was breathing, his heart was steady—he was just unconscious. I was kneeling beside him, looking for any injury, when pain rushed over me, and I understood why he’d fallen.
    My skin was on fire, and I felt as if someone had poured boiling water over me. I screamed, stumbling to my feet. And this time it was I, tears sliding down my wet face, who howled a tribute—and Coyote who died.
    It didn’t last long after that. I think that when they were all alive, they’d been able to harry her, to play off one another’s strengths. But as they died, they lost the ability to distract her.
    Raven died trying to keep Snake alive—the distraction allowed Snake to drive his spear deep into her side, but not deep enough. Watching her, I realized why she’d only grabbed me with one tentacle—she could only use one of them at a time. The unused tentacles bobbed about her head as if she had thick wire hair. She dove on top of Snake, and I didn’t see him again. The only ones that seemed to be remaining were Thunderbird and Hawk.
    Thunderbird dove like an F-15, striking with both taloned feet extended. I’d seen him score a deep furrow on her nose a few moments before. But this time, she whipped her tentacle around his legs and snatched him out of the air and into the water.
    Suddenly she shrieked—neither she nor I had seen Hawk, and he’d managed to take out an eye while she was concentrating on Thunderbird. But Hawk’s talons were stuck, and she dove abruptly. For a moment, the river was still, and Thunderbird floated alone on the surface, bobbing gently with the current. Then he disappeared under the water, tugged by something underneath him.
    Wait until she surfaces and is still, Coyote had cautioned me as he ate a couple of fast-food burgers in the backseat of the truck—one greasy sandwich in each hand. If there aren’t enough of us to cause her to go belly-up, there’s no sense in you dying, too.
    I’d asked him what to do if she didn’t react the way he’d hoped.
    Maybe then it might be time to bring in the nuclear warheads, he’d said. For all that there was a smile on his face, I had been pretty sure he hadn’t been joking.
    I stripped off Adam’s shirt. When I saw blood, I realized that Thunderbird had opened up a good slice under one arm when he rescued me. Under the circumstances, I wasn’t going to complain. I checked the knife belt. There were a few knives missing, but I still had eight left. Hopefully, that would be enough.
    I waded out into the river until I was knee-deep, then put on the long, bright pink fins. And then I waited, nearly in the same spot as I’d waited before.
    I’d have expected that the water would keep the smell of carnage to a minimum, but I could smell blood. Something bumped my knee, and I fell over backward trying to scramble away in my clumsy fins, landing with a splash on my backside. The bandoleer jerked and I grabbed the otter with one hand and threw him as far as I could before I stood up. I checked the sheath, but it seemed to be okay except for a bite mark