Page 47 of Tin God
But while it might have once been a bulwark of strength along this small stretch of coastline, it was leaning to the side, the ground around it ripped up like a child destroying a sandcastle at the beach.
The roof was partially caved in on one side, and sun umbrellas were tossed along the shoreline, their bright colors slowly being dragged into the sea.
Ben landed after his short circuit around the settlement to find Carwyn and Buck standing in front of the house, both men staring at the massive dwelling with their arms crossed over their chest.
Carwyn looked at him. “Anything?”
Ben shook his head and pointed to the right. “There’s a little cove over past those trees with a beach, a shed. Maybe a landing spot for kayaks or something.”
Buck nodded. “Yeah, not usable this time of year, but in the summer they’d take kayaks out in that spot.”
“No kayaks that I could see,” Ben said. “It’s possible that some of them escaped, but…”
Carwyn shook his head. “Do you see this water damage?” He pointed to driftwood pushed up against the base of the house. “It almost looks like a tsunami. Or a hurricane.” He kicked at a dead fish on the rocky ground. “Water vampire pushed water from the inlet up onto the shore. That’s probably what started the attack.”
“Did you check the houses?” Ben asked.
Carwyn nodded. “Nothing alive. I found…” His voice caught. “There was one body and a leg. A woman’s leg, I think. Lots of blood in that house, but no bodies.”
“No whole bodies anyway.” Buck’s face was a blank page. “I’ve never seen…” He shook his head. “I ain’t ever seen anything like that.”
“I have.” Carwyn’s voice was soft. “The bodies weren’t taken then, but this looks like a raid. Not unlike the Viking raids in Wales. The looting, the destruction for destruction’s sake. The… thoroughness.” His jaw was tight. “That’s what it reminds me of.”
Ben asked, “How many people lived here?”
Buck glanced over his shoulder. “Mike ordered a pallet of supplies like that every couple of months. They hunted. Fished. This place was pretty off-the-grid. They were self-sufficient most of the year. Maybe a dozen people? Twenty at most.”
“And a vampire,” Carwyn said. “But one vampire and a dozen humans aren’t going to be able to fight off at least four vampires when they have the element of surprise.”
“Four?” Ben saw damage that had to be from an earth vampire, and the water vampire had wreaked havoc. Damage to the trees and the roof definitely looked like wind damage, but?—
“Look.” Carwyn pointed at the house.
The door had once been wood, probably as beautifully carved as the shutters and the trim, but now it was black, and the charred body of a human was curled into the fetal position, right at the threshold of the blackened door.
“Fire.” Ben breathed out.
“Four vampires,” Carwyn said. “At least four. Maybe more.” He looked down and kicked at a rock, shoving it across the rocky beach. “Humans didn’t do this. This was all vampire.”
ChapterEleven
Darkness. Fire. A twisting ache in her gut and a burning in her throat. Burning. Everything was burning.
“Brigid?”
She heard his voice calling from a distance. Was she dreaming? She’d thought she was in hell, but he wouldn’t be there. No, he couldn’t be there. He was good. Pure in a way that she’d never been.
The smell of smoke filled her nose, and the fire rippled along her skin, soothing and burning at the same time.
Pain.
It was the consuming thought in her mind. Burning. Tingling. Snapping tiny bites along her flesh. Stripping bare every nerve with its vicious claws. Pain. Consuming, breath-stealing pain. But she was no longer breathing, and suddenly she knew.
Fire.
“Brigid?”
She blinked awake to the darkness of a room in Alaska, frigid air seeping in from around heavy shutters that held back the light. The darkness was lighter along the edges of the windows, but it was still pitch-black.