The Talisman Wars Box Set

Chapter 8

Chapter 8Two long days passed without so much as a Jehovah’s Witness coming to the front gate. But no one let their guard down or dared to leave, even when Al’s girlfriend called frantically to explain that her significant other hadn’t come home from the bar. They assumed the worst.

Dakota worked himself to exhaustion each day. Compared to Eddie and Eleanor, he was terribly out of shape but expected to contribute just as much. Trudging through a snow storm for several hours at a time took everything he had. They turned off the blizzard once everyone huddled safe in the house, but they needed it for cover when one or more people patrolled the borders.

As they neared the end of the third full day, the snow piled up past Dakota’s knees. He shuffled through it lethargically, the muscles in his legs aching. He would be the last patrol of the evening, but he still had a full rotation left, and Eddie wanted him to check in on the horses before retreating inside. He carried his rifle in gloved hands and kept it pressed close to his chest. His snow boots were loaners, just like the rest of his gear. Since the shoes were about two sizes two big, he tripped often, but at least they kept his feet dry.

He wanted to go back inside and warm up. Terrell made him hot chocolate whenever he returned from active duty. After everyone else went to bed or to keep watch, he rubbed Dakota’s sore muscles and kissed his back softly. That small amount of contact and routine did wonders for Dakota’s spirits. The warmth, the touching. And when his eyes could barely stay open, Terrell kissed him goodnight before slipping back down to his own room.

Perhaps tonight they could do more. The two didn’t need to have hours of s*x. He could be quiet if he wanted. And Terrell seemed so great with his mouth—

A clanging noise at the gate snapped him out of his fantasy. While the ranch’s main entrance was chained shut, climbing it wouldn’t be too difficult, even in the snow. The wind howled, but not strong enough to shift metal. Someone moved it.

Dakota called up to the house for help, though he knew his voice wouldn’t carry that far. He waited but heard nothing in return. If he tried to hurry back on worn-out legs, the stranger might make it there first. He decided the best thing to do was to intercept. Make a stand. With two guns and two talismans, maybe he had a chance.

He sprinted through the snowdrifts and down a hill to the gate.

The silhouette of a person stood on the other side. When he saw Dakota coming, he backed away a little. But even at a distance and partially cloaked by the manufactured weather, the intruder’s glowing crystal discs announced his identity. The torturer. Dakota moved closer. He observed icy blue eyes, skin as pale as a corpse, and red hair. A long gray trench coat. A black scarf wrapped tightly beneath his pointed chin. The look of someone who might try to outsmart a hero detective—or shoot up a school for no reason.

The figure raised one hand toward Dakota, and with a commanding voice that practically echoed, he pronounced the name and commands of a new talisman. “Na’fenn eta ma!”

To Dakota’s horror, the area around him burst into flames despite more than adequate snow coverage. Fire flared up in every direction. He could feel the heat of it as he crouched on the ground and tried to cover his face.

But it didn’t hurt.

Maybe the fire killed all the nerve endings, Dakota thought. It wouldn’t really cause any pain, right? He could think of worse ways to go.

In the next moment, the flames stopped. When he opened his eyes, expecting to see charred ash in place of skin, he found no damage. Not even singeing of his clothes. Nothing at all looked out of place, except a circle of melted snow around him. Astounded, he quickly scrambled to his feet. The attacker appeared equally shocked. His head tilted to one side as he stared at the only talisman Dakota wore openly. It wasn’t activated. So, what protected him from spontaneous combustion?

What, indeed. Terrell’s necklace had to be the culprit. It protected him from the fire. With only seconds to react, Dakota readied his rifle and pointed it at the man. He tried to aim as best he could, but he’d only shot the thing a few times in practice, and he never hit anything. This guy stood a lot closer than the cans, however. He’d have to be completely inept to miss.

He squeezed the trigger. The kickback dug the wooden butt of the weapon deeply into his shoulder, and he let out a yelp. When he looked to see what damage he’d inflicted, he found the figure completely unharmed.

“Fuck.” How could he miss at such close range? Movies always made it look so easy. With a shaking hand, he worked the bolt handle up, back, forward, and then down again, releasing the spent cartridge and pulling a new bullet into place. The gun’s capacity was four rounds, and Dakota carried another four on his person, but he didn’t think he could successfully reload the thing quickly enough.

The eight-pound gun felt so heavy in his hands, which went numb from the cold. As his opponent selected a new talisman to use in attack, Dakota tried to aim better this time. He moved the barrel to the left a little, gulped, and fired. The sound rang in his ears, and pain shot up from his shoulder.

A grazing hit—just above the man’s collarbone—forced him a few steps back. A bigger caliber, and much of the area would be missing, but Eddie feared Dakota would accidentally hurt himself with something bigger.

Probably. His shoulder already felt like hell, and he’d only fired the gun twice.

The injured attacker gripped at his wound and swore, but it wasn’t even remotely life-threatening. In the next moment, he raised his hand and evoked another talisman. “Ke’lond eta ma!”

Dakota heard the barest hints of some kind of growling, but it dispersed immediately. “I don’t believe it!” the man shouted at him as snow continued to fall in the space that separated hero and villain. “It’s not possible!”

He couldn’t believe it either. Did Terrell’s necklace not only protect him from fire, but all talismans? Any direct attack? Wouldn’t that make it one of the most powerful magic necklaces in existence? Terrell just gave it away. Surely, he’d want it back now. And if not him, his cousins wouldn’t want to part with it.

First things first. He worked the bolt lever again until the gun could fire once more and took another shot. And missed. The fourth and final attempt also proved unsuccessful, and he silently cursed himself for not paying more attention about how to reload it. The .22-millimeter pistol hanging off of his belt provided the next best option, but with his track record, at this distance, Dakota thought it might just be a waste of bullets. The shorter the gun, the more difficult the shot, he remembered Eddie saying. And he hadn’t done very well at all with the rifle’s two-foot long barrel.

Plan B. He took a few steps closer to the gate but left about a yard between it and himself. Glancing down at the borrowed talisman, he carefully recited its name and commands. “A’lund eta.” When it began glowing an orangish brown, Dakota looked up at the wounded interloper and extended his hand. “Ma!”

Nothing happened at first, but for this talisman, he knew to be patient. In the distance, he heard subtle signs of it working. The sounds of hooves on hard earth. Branches breaking. Howling. Animals making their way to Dakota and his intended target. The first movement that caught his eye came from small mammals—raccoons, possums, squirrels, and chipmunks. They crawled out of the underbrush and immediately started toward the redheaded man as fast as their small legs could take them. The little creatures wouldn’t be much help, but they could bite and scratch if they got close enough.

Part of him wondered if the woods surrounding the ranch only held small combatants like that, but just as he thought it, a giant buck appeared at the edge of the tree line. When it saw its enemy, it began running at a full gallop toward him, its head down and antlers primed to strike.

The man turned just in time to use his fire talisman on the raging deer. Every inch of the creature lit up in flames. It began to cry out and wail in pain, shaking its head. But it didn’t stop attacking.

At least three or four points connected with the intruder, shoving him off of his feet and tossing his body a considerable distance. The fire-engulfed buck got in several more blows, albeit relatively mild ones, before it collapsed from its injuries and died. As the man slowly tried to get up off the ground, Dakota heard growling and barking from behind him. Seconds later, the family dog—an aging German shepherd—bounded past Dakota at unreal speeds and jumped the fence. It tore at the man’s leg before he could react, and though he tried to kick the dog away, the animal persisted.

It, too, got burned alive by the time Dakota could pull himself together enough to act. He hopped the fence and advanced on the man. Spinning his rifle around, he aimed the butt of the weapon at the man’s head and plunged it down as hard as he could.

The gun hit some sort of invisible barrier, inches away from the psychopath’s face.

He started laughing. “What are you going to do with that, kid? We’re dealing with magic, and you think you can just hit me with a gun? Really?! Give it up, and come with me. I’ll show you how to use those necklaces of yours.”

Yeah, right. Dakota knew he’d be dead within minutes if he let his guard down around this man.

If the guy had some sort of protective talisman, too, it didn’t stop bullets or animal attacks, and a swift kick to his stomach proved he wasn’t immune to snow boots, either. But Dakota was no fighter. The man looked bigger than him and a thousand times more bloodthirsty. If he wanted to win, he needed help.

Out from a holster on his hip, he pulled the rimfire, low-caliber pistol and pointed it straight at the man’s head. With only a few feet between them, he couldn’t miss.

But he wasn’t watching the intruder’s feet, which swept under Dakota and knocked him to the ground. The injured man jumped up and made a hasty retreat as blood gushed from his wounds and soaked into his clothing. A line of red dotted the snow.

Dakota landed awkwardly, and he strongly suspected that perhaps he’d sprained one of his wrists. He somehow managed to keep hold of his handgun, which he aimed at the figure. Unloading the entire ten-round magazine, he didn’t let go of the trigger until well after the gun emptied. He saw with delight that at least one bullet connected with the attacker’s abdomen. The new injury caused him to stagger a little, but he still found his way into the woods and out of sight.

Part of him wanted to scramble up to his feet and go after the guy, but with no loaded guns, a barely useful magic necklace, and absolutely no hand-to-hand combat skills, what good would that do? Maybe, if they were lucky, the guy would bleed out in the forest, and their nightmare could end.

Laying back in the snow, Dakota turned off the mammal-calling necklace and tried not to inhale the terrible smell of burnt fur and flesh. Mere seconds later, Eddie and Eleanor came running to his aid, too late to see which way the man went and too wary to go looking for him. Dakota groaned. He’d been so close to stopping that asshole. Why couldn’t he have just beat him senseless or been more careful? A man with at least two gunshot wounds and a host of animal-related injuries shouldn’t be able to run away.

The women helped him up. His ears still rung from the deafening gunshots, and an overwhelming sense of failure flooded through him. He went toe-to-toe with the bastard who tortured one of Terrell’s cousins and possibly killed another, and he let him escape.

“Holy s**t, did you fight the guy yourself?!” he heard Eddie ask.

“You crazy son of a b***h, you could’ve got killed! Why the hell didn’t you call us?!” was Eleanor’s contribution.

He did call out for help, but not with his cellphone, which he completely forgot he carried. When Dakota heard the noise, being the only one on patrol, he felt personally responsible for the ranch and its inhabitants’ protection. So, he acted. Slowly, he brushed the snow off of his jacket and handed over his empty firearms. “I didn’t think. I didn’t want him to get to the house. I shot him. Twice. But he’s gone. I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Eleanor seemed dumbfounded by that response. She stared at him for a long time. Eddie recovered sooner. After unlocking the gate, she threw one arm around Dakota’s shoulders and began guiding him toward the house. Eventually, she addressed him in a quiet voice. “One of those burnt up animals back there was Nelly, wasn’t it?” Her voice sounded sad but not angry.

He nodded. “f**k, I didn’t mean for it to get her. I thought all the animals were locked up. It just sort of happened. It was just her, a giant deer, and some squirrels.” Now that he thought about it, one of the side entrances to the house had a doggy door. The poor animal must have used it to get out and into the line of fire.

“You’re safe. That’s what matters. And maybe that jackass will think twice before he shows up here again.” She patted him on the back. “You did good, Dakota. I mean that. I’ll go back in a few minutes and see if we can’t put that buck to some good use. Have you ever had venison?” When he shook his head, she smiled. “It’s delicious.”

With sick amusement, Dakota thought that they wouldn’t even have to cook it.

Eleanor caught up to them by the time they reached the house. When Eddie let him go, Dakota stood in the main hall with a dazed look on his face. He didn’t know what to think. On one hand, he fought off the bad guy, at least temporarily protecting Terrell and his family and sparing the farm. He stood up against concentrated evil, and he didn’t have a scratch on him. On the other hand, the threat was still out there. With any other shooter, the danger would be obliterated entirely.

Before he could decide which outlook to take, Terrell appeared from a side room and abruptly embraced him. It was a big, passionate hug. Unquestionably affectionate. And it said, “I almost lost you, but you’re alive. Thank God you’re alive.” Not the kind of hug exchanged between friends. Too close. Too emotional. And Terrell didn’t try to make it seem like one.

Dakota wondered if his companion merely forgot they weren’t alone—that he got caught up in the moment and accidentally outed himself to his family. When Terrell moved to kiss him, Dakota pulled away slightly and gave him a look of warning. But he just shook his head and smiled. He held Dakota’s face in both hands, pulled him closer, and kissed him in front of everyone.

Eddie reacted, whistling at them. “Well, that’s about time.”

When they disconnected and Terrell looked around the room, the only surprised face belonged to Emily, who digested the new information with just an ounce of disbelief. No one looked angry or disgusted. Lorna simply nodded at the two of them before disappearing into the kitchen—possibly in an attempt to give them a little privacy—and Eleanor seemed too busy refortifying the house to care.

Eventually, the seriousness of the matter at hand interrupted their tender moment. Eleanor cleared her throat. “How come he didn’t barbeque you?” she asked with equal parts astonishment and suspicion.

Dakota glanced up at Terrell. Not out of fear, but to ask permission to tell her. When Terrell gave a look of confusion, Dakota turned to face her. He reached into his shirt, latched onto the leather cord, and pulled out the second talisman for her to see. “I think I know what it does now,” he said. “Anybody who tries to attack you with another talisman can’t hurt you.”

Terrell gasped. “Oh my God.”

But Eleanor became angry. “What are you doing wearing that? I thought we decided as a group who got which one.”

Eddie scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“What?” She swiveled to face her.

“Terry hasn’t left the house since this s**t began. What the hell does he need with a defense talisman? Except to protect something he cares a lot about.”

A look of fascination flashed across Terrell’s face. He didn’t expect his family to instantly accept his tenuous relationship with Dakota.

“I don’t give a f**k what the reason was!” Eleanor retorted. “These are family heirlooms. Family. You don’t just give that s**t away, because it doesn’t just belong to you. It belongs to all of us. Al never gave his—” But she stopped herself. After a moment, she covered her mouth with one hand, and her gaze dropped to the floor. She hadn’t fully processed her cousin’s death, since they weren’t certain what happened to him. Eleanor meant to use him as a living example of good behavior.

Terrell used the misstep to his advantage. “Family’s different for me,” he began slowly. “Look, I get why you’re angry, but Dakota probably wouldn’t be alive right now if he wasn’t wearing it, and he just saved us. So, maybe you could stop acting like he’s some stranger who took it without asking. I gave it to him because I trust him.”

Eleanor glared at him before shooting her glance over to Eddie, who shrugged. “I’m with Terry on this one. Rogue assassin shows up at your front gate, you don’t tell the guard who protected you that he shouldn’t have been wearing a bulletproof vest. Besides, it really doesn’t belong to all of us. If Nana hadn’t wanted us to share them, she would’ve said so. He can give his talisman to Dakota if he wants to, and we should respect that.”

Snorting, Eleanor turned toward the window and peered outside. “You got really lucky.”