Page 41 of Haunted Nightmares
Declan and I will be performing an… autopsy, I suppose, on our disgusting little friend because we have many questions about its presence after the species disappeared over twohundred years ago. Lorna is here to assist out of necessity. As a healer, one old as fuck with more knowledge andmyjakthan most, she is a vital part of what we’re going to be doing.
Not all creatures are created the same and while I’ve taken apart my fair share of trolls in my time, I don’t know their anatomy the way she does. Nor will I be able to identify abnormalities and what their possible cause or purpose is the way Lorna can.
But I didn’t broadcast this to the Purists for a reason, a rather important one since I still don’t know who the bloody traitor is, and though I informed my inner circle—Aries and Orion included—I didn’t want a damned audience for this.
It’s bad enough I have to drag the twit musician and his mate everywhere I go until I can have the law changed and now with three extra sets of eyes on—Lydia was Declan’s suggestion but spun it as my request to her—I’ll be an irritated prick through this entire ordeal.
Not that that’s anything new, but still.
“Tell her the door is unlocked and the three of them need to be silent when they come in. I’m not going to wait around all?—“
“We’re here!” Lydia sing-songs as she walks through the foyer into the dining room. “Have we missed anything?”
Scowling, I untie the troll’s cloak while Declan begins cutting through the rest of its clothes. “Come in, sit down, take notes. That’s why you’re here.”
“You’re in a wonderful mood,” Orion says as he and his mate seat themselves by Archer. “Nice to know the transfusions haven’t changed your winning personality.”
“Good one, mate.” The twit snorts as he holds his hand out toward the eejit insulting me. “I’m Archer and the ravishing creature next to me is my fated one, Sadie.”
The female blushes and gives them a small wave as they introduce themselves, the four exchanging pleasantries andacting as though this is a fucking dinner party instead of what it actually is.
Thankfully for them, the raven sitting on my shoulder is keepingmesomewhat in check and its constant presence since I nearly killed Iris the other night has kept Zenlothanai quiet as well.
Further support that my gentle breeze’s spirit is living within the feathered creature because surely I would have killed most of these onlookers by now.
“All blessed, my lord,” Lorna says as she enters the dining room with a tray of surgical tools in her hands. “Anything dangerous this one has been harboring should be rendered void when they touch it.”
“Should be? The confidence you have in your god is impressive.” Pushing back the hood of the cloak, I take a moment to look the troll over while Declan and Lorna finish prepping its body.
It’s old, probably around three or four hundred years judging by the aging on its face. The way the nose, cheeks and chin have expanded, how lumpy the spaces in between are. Even this gremlin’s lips are bulbous, not enough to hide its square blunt teeth sitting between two rather thick fangs but they are larger than most.
All of which confirm my thoughts on its age, and contribute to why I keep referring to the troll asit.
Had it not been stalking a couple of vampires for nefarious reasons I suppose I’d usetheyuntil I was told otherwise but this piece of scum had ill intent and since trolls tend to be androgynous,itworks for this piece of shite. Its rotten and hate-filled lifestyle is clear on its face, centuries of mistreating others for personal gain, defying the gods by shedding innocent blood along with countless other crimes, it’s all reflected in thishorrible creature’s outward appearance so it is reaping what it sewed.
Good thing vampires don’t wear their souls on the outside as others do. I’d look worse than the bugger on my table.
Tilting my head, I continue scanning its body; the many scars, the lesions and boils, the flaps and folds in its greenish-brown, leathery skin. This particular troll has definitely lived a hard and angry existence, and whatever clan it originates from surely pissed off the gods long before it was born.
“He’s very jaundiced,” Lorna says as she trades places with Declan. “The green hue is very strong. Too bad the drink won’t wash away the sins he committed. I could try but I’m not sure it would do any good.”
I open my mouth to correct the healer, to say this piece of trash deserves no kindness no matter how small when my friend stops me. “It’s been busy.” My eyes shift toward Declan just as he pours the contents of a little pouch onto the table beside the troll's leg, eliciting a gasp from the peanut gallery at the island.
“Are those…ears?” Sadie gags as the males lean forward to look. “And fangs? Oh my gosh, I think I’m going to faint again.”
She’s absolutely correct.
The troll was in possession of at least a dozen ears and nearly double that in fangs.
Souvenirs of its conquests here in New Orleans, the species known for trophy hunting or taking keepsakes from their hits when asked to carry them out. And that means Iris and Nate would have had their parts added to the troll’s spoils, thus proving we are most definitely at war with any number of enemies.
My bitch mother.
Deveroux and his corrupt government.
The mole amongst my followers.
Whatever the boy Thaddeus was trying to warn me about.
