“No! Please! No!” The shifter trembles and attempts to back away—though it’s hard without any of his limbs.
He resembles a fucked-up snake.
“You talk too much.” Krys lunges towards the shifter, grabs his tongue, and slices it off with his katana.
I arch my eyebrows, even as my heart flutters.
I’ve never had anyone defend my honor before. I know I should be disturbed by the display of violence, but I’m not.Maybe it’s because I’ve been around death my entire life, but I’ve grown desensitized to it. It barely fazes me.
Krys casually wipes the blood off his sword with the shifter’s shirt, then he straightens. He places the sword in an invisible holster on his back, and that weapon, like the bow and arrow set, disappears.
“Come on, shortstack. Let’s get out of here. The poison should be killing off these idiots in just a few minutes.”
He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me towards the exit.
A thought occurs to me.
“Wait.” I dig my feet in, forcing him to slow down. “What about your money?”
“Huh?” He stares at me in confusion.
“You said they owed you money.” That’s why he went on a killing spree in the first place.
“Oh.” He chuckles. “Funnily enough, they actually didn’t owe me money. My mistake. Now, let’s get you back to the motel before the others realize you’re gone.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ZAID
Thea is gone.
And so is Krys.
“They couldn’t have gone far,” Everett growls, pacing.
He rakes his fingers through his sandy-colored hair, causing it to stand straight up.
Rafe sits on the bed, a dagger in one hand as he cuts the palm of the other. Blood wells, dark red and glittering with magic, and he closes his eyes, concentrating. I know he’s attempting to perform a very complicated tracking spell. The problem is, this spell only works when the caster has an intimate relationship with the person they’re trying to find, whether that’s romantic or platonic.
And considering Rafe has only known her for one day? And that he has the emotional capacity of a damn cabbage?
“I’ll see if I can pick up their scent,” Everett says abruptly, and his eyes flutter shut.
I know he’s about to shift, but the last thing we need is his monster loose in the motel.
Everett and his beast are a lot like Krystian and Krys. They’re the same person, but one is contained by societal norms and empathy. The other? They only have two modes—fuck or fight—and there’s no guarantee which one it’ll be.
“Don’t.” Rafe’s eyes snap open, and blood floats in the air, a trail of it leading out the door. “I have it.”
My brows shoot up at that, but I don’t bother to question it. All that matters is finding Thea…before Krystian—or Krys, as Krystian likes to call him—does something he regrets.
I don’t think he would intentionally hurt her, but Krys is careless with people’s feelings and well-being. He doesn’t think before he acts. If shit hits the fan, he won’t hesitate to leave Thea behind in order to save himself.
It makes him immensely dangerous on missions.
The three of us stalk out of the motel room and into the parking lot—directly to an approaching car.
“Who’s fucking car is that?” Everett bites out, his hands forming fists by his sides.
