A string of colourful swear words left me when I was faced with a mangy wolf, teeth bared in a bloody snarl.
Only one shifter on a team of sixteen demons was good for me, but I wished I’d come across the shifter outside, back when I’d had the energy to deal with claws and fangs. Spinning out of the way as the creature jumped at me, I took off the head of one of the injured men. With the large slice in his leg, he couldn’t move fast enough to get away.
Three more to go.
I’d manage it.
Probably.
Just as long as the other remaining three guards stayed with Jude instead of coming to assist.
“This guy is a fucking tank,” one man grunted as he lunged for me.
The wolf came from the other side, and I called for the light. My body curled in on itself from the effort of gathering so much light in the middle of the night after expending so much energy on healing. I grit my teeth and stayed upright, forming a lasso and wrapping it around the wolf’s neck. It brought him up short, a low howl starting as he tried to shake off the bond. All his movement did was make the lasso tighter, cutting off his airway and making it harder to breathe.
Angels above, I needed the sun to rise above the fucking mountains. The second it did, gathering light would be infinitely easier.
My new axe sliced through the other man who came at me, a clean one-handed swing of the hefty weapon. Blood gushed from the wound, his hands instinctively going down to stem the bleeding. I dropped my axe and whipped out my sword, using the opening to stab clean through his neck.
Someone stabbed through my torso at the same time and I shouted, jumping forward to escape the blade before spinning to face my attacker. I hadn’t been paying enough attention to the last man. Keeping the shifted wolf attached to my light lasso like a dog on a leash, I conjured a ball of light in my hand. It didn’t grow big, but the man’s eyes widened all the same, a word forming on his lips that looked suspiciously like ‘fuck’.
I tossed the light in his direction, and it followed him when he dodged the initial barrage. Seconds later the magic exploded against his back, encasing him in a hug of light.
This kind of hug wasn’t pleasant for him. My magic burned every inch of him, much like my upper thighs burned from the fire. I glanced down, finding the fire was finally sizzling out. A bit too close to my crotch for comfort, but I hadn’t been paying much attention. Not bothering to burn him alive, I cut off his head and let the light disperse.
That left me and the wolf.
I always felt weird killing shifters in their animal form, even though I knew the wolf was truly a person who’d tried to kill me. With a heavy sigh, I solidified the lasso, leaving it a heavy piece of leather that no longer held light. Then I tied him to a solid bannister and gave him a bump on the head to knock him unconscious.
When Kylan found this scene, he would kill the wolf. I’d stick with brutally murdering people in human form, which may be deranged of me, but only true monsters killed animals. Especially ones who’d been tamed by a rope around the neck.
Not bothering to be sneaky, I trudged down the stairs to the basement. I was still laden with weapons, but my body was heavy and achy, not keen on using them. When I turned a corner into the basement, a spear damn near skewered me. I growled.
“Jude, where the fuck is my wife?” I demanded, glaring at the three guards huddled around Jude, who had a knife to a young woman’s throat.
The young woman had to be Mabel. There wasn’t much family resemblance, but Jude knew I wouldn’t give a fuck if he threatened anyone else. Her eyes widened when she saw me, pupils blown out in fear as she gaped at the way I’d bathed in blood.
“Are you talking about Freya?” he asked, trying to smirk but barely avoiding looking scared. The knife bit into the skin of Mabel’s throat and she squeaked, a single trickle of blood escaping.
“That’s what I fucking said.”
It dawned on me that I was still half in the past, and Freya wasn’t my wife. Sigrid had been, and they technically weren’t the same person, even if Freya was a reincarnation of her. Whatever. Either way, Freya was mine, and Kylan would do well to be reminded of that.
“I don’t recall being invited to your wedding or seeing your mating mark on her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jude. Where is she?”
The room went dead silent, the three guards looking to their boss. Everyone looked uncomfortable, shuffling from foot to foot. Did they not know? If they didn’t know, that might send me over the edge into a full disassociation with reality, which I’d come pretty fucking close to while fighting the Viking. I needed her like I needed air, and I was desperate to right the wrongs of a past life she knew nothing about.
“Jude doesn’t have that information,” a voice said from behind me.
I spun and backed into a corner, glaring at the newcomer I hadn’t sensed. Two people flanked him, one on either side, and a group of three more hovered behind them. My first thought had been that they were backup sent by Kylan, but they were glaring at Jude and his remaining security, while peering curiously at me. Jude glared at the man in front like he wanted to gut him.
“Nolan,” he hissed. His blade pressed tighter against Mabel’s throat and she whimpered. “You’ll suffer Kylan’s wrath for this.”
He snorted. The man was a Beta vampire, and didn’t look dangerous. At all. He was shorter than average for a man, with a face full of freckles and a head of messy ginger hair. He exuded nonchalance, like he didn’t know what a sensitive situation he’d walked into and didn’t care. “My cousin has promised me his wrath plenty of times in the past. I’m fairly skilled at avoiding it,” he said with a grin. “Besides, if you’d been the one to capture Freya, you wouldn’t have been able to keep her. What pathetic security you must have, to be wiped out by one man.”
He gave me an appraising once over, like he was proud of the souls I’d sent to their next lives today.
