Rolf frowned, spun a few runes in the air and set a protective bubble around him and Khent. “No. This is wrong.”
“I feel it too.” The urge to find Valentine increased, and Khent was soon running through the cavern, taking tunnel upon tunnel through the vast maze.
“I sure hope you can find your way back out of here,” Rolf muttered.
“Why are you here?”
“Oh, I’m here to stop you from saving your mate.”
Khent nearly tripped as he turned to confront his kin.
“But I’m not sure I’m leaning that way. Let’s see how the big fight shakes out first.”
“Big fight?”
“Between you and Nergal. Or you and the necromancer.”
“I assume you mean Vladimir.”
“Hmm.”
Khent continued his hunt for his mate, finally locating her in a large round room that seemed to have no ceiling. More mist tainted with a raw, chaotic energy flooded the area.
The throne that Nergal used previously sat in place, though appeared much smaller. Nergal was only twice Khent’s size. He stood in a man’s form, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, so out of place for this god of the underworld, it took Khent aback. As did the fact that Nergal was using a polite voice to argue with Valentine.
Rolf whistled. “She sure cleans up nice.”
Valentine wore a shifting gown of shadows, her hair waving in a wind that didn’t blow. But it was her eyes that shocked him. They weren’t there. Just black holes from which something—notValentine—looked out.
She spotted him and Rolf and waved them over.
In the center of a small fighting ring, surrounded by mutated galla demons, the form of Vladimir seemed to be pulling itself together.
“This place rocks,” Rolf said excitedly. “Much better than it was before. Can you feel it?”
“Yes, I can feel it, you freak.” Khent didn’t like the powerful energy in Valentine’s body. He remained a part of her, yet that foreign presence wasn’t sure it wanted him to stay. And he had a bad feeling if he left, he might never see Valentine again.
He firmed his grip on her essence and felt his wings grow more substantial.
“Ah, buddy. You’re turning into something dark.”
“Rolf, focus on Vladimir and the demons. I’ll take Valentine and Nergal.”
“You got it. Try not to die before I decide if I’m going to kill Val or not.”
Khent growled.
Rolf smiled and saluted him before heading off to the galla demons and Vladimir.
Nergal and Valentine watched him approach. The closer he drew to his mate, the more he wanted to kill something. Therewas a presence inside Valentine that didn’t belong. She was his, damn it. Not to be possessed by anyone but Khent.
“She is mine,” he said as he joined them, not bothering with niceties.
Nergal smiled. “There. See? You can’t have her. But I’m more than happy to host you, Ilu.”
“Ilu?” Khent scowled. The name “Ilu” was an Akkadian word for “gods.” Plural. “Her name is Valentine Darkmore. She’s my mate.”
“She’s my vessel,” Valentine said, her voice not hers. It was smoky, imbued with great power, and not at all human, the sibilant whisper of otherness too present. “She accepted my deal.”
