“Good grief. Did I just intrude on a sexy man convention? And how do I get an invitation to attend every year?” A frisson of electricity curls in my chest as I study the newest man.
Sandy-blond hair, though it could actually be a shade of light brown. Hazel eyes. Broad shoulders. Thick, corded biceps. Tapered waist.
I find myself licking my lips repeatedly and force myself to stop.
Too creepy, Thea.
Knock it off.
“Let’s take him down.” The muscular man steps forward, his sword raised.
“Um… I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I interject, but of course, they don’t hear me. “I think you’re forgetting that hellhounds usually—” Three other beasts emerge from the forest, their heads lowered and growls rumbling through their chests. “They travel in packs, dumbass.”
Everyone knows that.
It’s in the Hellhound 101 guidebook.
The elf curses and swivels until his arrow is aimed at a different hellhound, this one approaching from the right.
“Fuck! Zaid, we need you,” he calls.
I nearly shit my pants—metaphorically, of course, because I don’t actually need to poop—when the shadows beside me combine to form a third man.
This one’s smaller than the other two, but he’s no less attractive. Pitch-black hair falls slightly in front of his face, which is pale and sharp, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. He holds a sort of unassuming beauty that captivates me more than any of the others. It’s…unusual.He’sunusual.
I can’t put my finger on what it is about him. Maybe it’s the fact that his features aren’t perfectly proportionate like the elf’s are. Maybe it’s the tiny scar on the other side of his jaw. Maybe it’s the strange color of his eyes—not blue but not quite gray either.
Butterflies spin drunkenly in my stomach.
“You’re a wraith, aren’t you?” I move until I’m only an inch away from his face, standing on my tiptoes to study him better. “Want to be my shadow daddy?”
The wraith—Zaid, apparently—lifts his hands in the air, and two whips of shadows slash at the nearest hellhounds, forcing them back. More and more shadows appear and begin wrapping around the creatures, holding them still.
In front of me, the sandy-haired supernatural lunges at the closest hellhound, his sword raised.
The elf fires arrow after arrow at the hellhound advancing on him. Each place the arrow touches causes the skin to sizzle and crack.
The last two hellhounds are still contained by Zaid’s shadows. I wonder how long he plans to do that. Is he going to join in the fight or?—?
”WHOOO!!” The voice comes from above me—far, far above me.
I jerk my chin up to stare at the tallest tree, where a figure balances precariously on the highest branch. Then, to my absolute horror, he jumps.
“Um…okay, then,” I say, blinking.
The man lands on one of the hellhound’s backs with a deranged cackle.
“Dude, do you know you have blood on you?” I ask the newcomer, gesturing vaguely towards my own face.
Actually, he’s drenched in blood. It coats his shoulder-length black hair, streaked with red and blue, his tan skin, and hisclothing. When he smiles, I notice some of his teeth are sharper than the others.
A vampire, maybe?
No. Not a vamp.
A blood fae.
I can tell by his hair. Those red and blue strands? They’re natural, not dyed. Only fae have hair like that.
