Read Homecoming (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller #1) Page 35

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  McCoy blinked furiously as he tried to clear his vision. If this was the end, he at least wanted to see it coming.

  At first, he thought that maybe he’d gone blind. That wasn’t right, though. Everything was white, not black. If he’d gone blind, everything should be black. Then he realized he was looking into a dense fog. That was strange. He didn’t recall the fog being there only moments ago, but then most of his attention had been focused on his broken leg and pierced chest, so it was entirely possible that he could have missed something.

  He realized that he actually should be dead by now and wondered what the demon was waiting for. Was it simply toying with him? Probably. Demons were like that, after all. Damn, his leg hurt.

  There was a sudden scream from somewhere very close by. McCoy’s first thought was of Amanda. Could that be the reason that the demon hadn’t finished him off yet? Was it torturing Amanda, intent on forcing McCoy to witness her demise before receiving his own?

  With a grunt of agony, he rolled over and forced himself up on his elbows. Between the pain and the fog, he was unable to get his bearings. Still, he couldn’t just lay there and do nothing. He began to crawl awkwardly into the mist, eyes searching and ears straining to hear the slightest sound.

  From his left came another howl, followed by the sound of someone or something thrashing about. McCoy veered in that direction, going as fast as he could but still moving at an agonizingly slow pace. If the demon had hurt Amanda, he was going to kill it. He wasn’t sure how, given his present condition, but with God as his witness he would find a way.

  He was close now. He could hear movement just ahead of him, the sounds of struggle. At least Amanda was fighting back. McCoy redoubled his efforts. He could not bear to lose her, though he had no idea how he might be able to save her.

  The fog suddenly thinned, and McCoy beheld a sight which he had never dreamed of witnessing, not if he lived a thousand years. There before him was the demon, its limbs and head entangled in a swarming mass of roots and branches, which were slowly but surely pulling the fiend into the soft earth. The entity shook as it tried in vain to free itself and gave off weak bursts of hellfire, which were ineffective since there was no human soul to consume.

  McCoy’s head was spinning, both from the pain of his injuries and the spectacle before him. On a small stump beside him, a face appeared briefly. It gave him a wry smile, then vanished.

  The dryad gave a sudden, violent jerk, and the demon disappeared into the earth. Nothing remained to suggest it had ever been there.

  McCoy rolled onto his back and chuckled softly. The whole thing was ridiculous. He had just been saved from a demon—by the Fey. If he had looked up and seen a herd of pigs flying overhead, he would not have been surprised.

  Something moved beside him, but he didn’t have the energy to turn and see what it was. There was a gasp, and then Amanda’s face loomed over him. Her cheek was red and already beginning to bruise, and her expression was one of shock and concern.

  “Finn? Oh my God! Finn, can you hear me?”

  “See them pigs flyin’?” he asked. His leg had gone numb, but he was having trouble breathing. He thought that a lung might be punctured.

  There was the sound of hurried footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t see who it was. There was some loud discussion that he couldn’t seem to make out. Something about a hospital, maybe. His vision was fading, but suddenly Amanda’s face came into view again. She was leaning close, and she had tears in her eyes.

  “Don’t you die, you big galoot,” she said. “Hang on. Hang on for me. I love you.”

  He guessed he had known it, but it felt good to hear it, just the same.

  “I love you, too,” he whispered, and then the world faded away to black.