“Easy, female.”
“My name is Val.” She tried to sound mean, but her breathlessness didn’t help.
He nodded. “Of course, Valentine.”
“I said Val. I— Oh, forget it. Now where are they?” She didn’t see or hear anything.
In fact, the woods seemed strangely still.
They moved up the slope, where the trees thinned. And then she saw the first body.
Minus its head.
She swallowed, familiar with death but not that fond of the gore that sometimes went with it.
“Stay close,” Khent ordered.
She swallowed the impulse to tell him he couldn’t order her around, especially because she had the creeping sensation they were being watched.
Past a gaggle of trees, they found a cluster of death on the summit. What looked like a group of at least two dozen hikers inMagic Rocksblue tee-shirts soaked with blood lay strewn like broken dolls over a grassy clearing. The blood looked black under the intense moonlight overhead.
“A waste.” Khent shook his head.
The death energy felt weak, and Val estimated that the group had been killed some time ago. By hours at least. She could take the energy but had no desire to. Not just because the dead were human, but because it felt wrong.
This loss of life had been meaningless, a fight between predators and hapless prey.
Something she would never be again.
“I sense them coming,” Khent murmured.
She nodded, the push of fresh, powerful death creeping closer.
“A lot of undead coming,” she warned.
He arched a brow. “Your point?”
She huffed. “Never mind.”
The charged bolt would have hit Khent had he not sidestepped at the last second. Val immediately went on the defensive and pulled two corpses upright to shield her. What she should have done as soon as they’d arrived.
“Sloppy, but acceptable, I suppose.” Khent critiqued her as if her teacher.
“Up yours, fanger.”
He grinned, and the expression turned him from simply stern to undeniably sexy.
She hated that she noticed and turned her attention to the group of undead rising from the ground and moving closer. The group looked to be her age or older, and many of them looked to be mages, holding fists of fire, electricity, and water as they surveyed the summit.
They narrowed in on her and Khent and positioned themselves to surround them.
The sounds of screams and grunts came from the woods behind her. Likely where Onvyr had gone. Unless someone else battled the dead on the mountain.
Quite a collection of undead, she had to admit. The blue tee-shirts indicated they belonged to the same group. A reunion, maybe? A class gathering? She couldn’t imagine what they all had in common besides being magir.
She studied them, noticing more than mages. She spotted a few lycan, several druids, and what looked to be at least three or four witches.
Gods, but she really could do with less witches in her life.
