This one, like most of his kind, had a warrior’s muscle and strength, his long hair white, the tips of his ears docked and bedecked with jewels. From the look of him, he’d been a commander in some phalanx back in fae lands.
Khent made note of the blue gem—not a Bloode Stone, unfortunately—in his ear. He’d have to look it up when he went home.
In the blink of an eye, the dark fae attacked, his speed nearly impossible to track for those without a vampire’s keen perception.
Macy, distracted by one of several in the crowd who’d forgotten to run for safety, would have been hit if Khent hadn’t sped to intercept, knocking her and the mage out of the way.
“Hey.” She glared at him for a moment.
He just shook his head while she watched the dark elf fight several of her companions. He saw when she realized she’d nearly died.
Blushing, she muttered, “Thanks.” To the crowd, she yelled, “Everyone, disperse.” They fled, and Macy turned back to Khent. “I’m surprised you cared enough to help.”
“There’s nothing worse than a whiny revenant.” He’d never hear the end of it from her mate if Macy was injured.
She chuckled. “I’m sure Duncan will appreciate the thought.”
“Though I’m not sure why, your mate would probably be devastated if you died. Of course, I could always bring you back.” He gave her a wide smile.
Macy blinked. “Er. Yeah. Again, thanks but no thanks.” She hurriedly left him, called by several of her companions to help contain the spider.
A blast of fire struck near him, and Khent brought his attention back to MEC’s fight with the spider.
Cho had an interesting way of moving, light on his feet yet full of strength. A decent warrior in combat. Unlike most demons, he didn’t lose himself to rage and simply try to kill everything in his way with brute strength.
An equal match for the graceful dark elf. Khent had a feeling that if the dark elf had fought under his own power, not manipulated by someone else, he might actually win. That sword of his begged to be studied.
In the distance, a mage screeched as the spider downed her in two bites. Macy lifted her hands, chanting, and magic grew thick around the hell-threader. Whatever she did made it scream and aim its attack at her.
Macy held the spider while the others tried to stab through its chitinous exterior. She yelled at her partner, “Quit screwing around, Cho. I need you over here!”
“Screwing around?”Cho yelled back as he dodged another strike aimed at his neck. Unlike the fae, he didn’t have a weapon. He used his flames and his powerful fists and feet instead.“Are you insane? This thing is trying to kill me!” He glanced around and spotted Khent. “Hey, reaper! A little help here.”
Khent looked all around before pointing to himself. “Are you talking to me, demon?”
Cho swore as he managed a punch to the dark elf’s face, breaking the creature’s nose and sending him tumbling ass over elbows several feet. “Yes, vampire. I am. The sooner you helpme get rid of this guy, the sooner I can assist Macy. Because you can bet your ass Duncan will fillet you if anything happens to his mate when you could have helped.”
Annoyed because the demon had the right of it, Khent sighed. Yet another obstacle keeping him from his ultimate prey. But at least his pet had tracked her for him.
“Fine. But only because I have better things to do than listen to my kin complain I didn’t help his weak, human mate.”
Cho didn’t take umbrage over the insult. The bastard grinned. “Great, thanks.” When the dark elf flew at him once more, he flattened himself and kicked up, tossing the fae Khent’s way. Then the demon raced to the rest of MEC to contain the spider.
Khent had to admit it had been a nice toss. Deprived of his earlier battle with his necromancer, he planned to enjoy this fight with the dark elf. “Who commands you?”
The skilled fae didn’t answer, though his eyes glowed brighter.
Khent pulled his favorite blade—a khopesh made from a shard of Set’s finger bone, wrapped in iron, and hardened with phoenix fire—out of the small pocket of reality he normally kept with him for such emergencies.
The khopesh, a curved, sickle-like blade nearly two feet in length, had a familiar weight. It had been a gift from his father when he’d reached maturity. The blade had been with him for centuries and particularly liked to drink the blood of magic users.
Khent blocked the dark elf’s strikes and studied his movements. Khent’s weapon was made for slashing, not stabbing. Though he could have hurried the battle, he wanted to draw it out to learn more about this enemy.
After another few strikes he easily deflected, he sighed. “Sadly, you cannot give me the battle I deserve.”
“As much as I would like to, I fear you are correct,” the elf said, his words garbled by broken fangs and a struggle to push through the master holding him.
“No necromancer commands you. I scent a demon’s touch.”
