“I do trust you. But you could be captured and tortured for the information. You’re strong and fast and I don’t think it will come to that, but they were able to get to you before, so…”
Every drop of moisture in her mouth dried. “I—uh…” Tortured?
“That’s not to say I would allow that to happen.”
Slowly she calmed. Of course he wouldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t, either. She was a coward, but she was also vicious when she needed to be, and she’d learned her lesson on evasion well. “I still want the info.”
“Good, because I was testing you and you passed. This can’t be used against me since Hunters already know. If I’m killed and the box is not around, the demon will be free. Crazed, insane and more dangerous and destructive than ever, but free.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s why they want to capture you rather than kill you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Different troops were always coming and going in the catacombs, but every time one regiment would leave to fight—I didn’t know who at the time—they would remind each other not to kill, only to injure and—”
“Shit,” he suddenly spat, cutting her off. “We’re being followed. Damn it!” He banged a fist into the steering wheel. “I allowed myself to be distracted or I would have caught them before now.”
Ignoring the accusation in his voice and the new stream of hurt that came with it, Gwen spun in her seat, peering out the darkened glass. Sure enough, there were three cars following them around a corner. Each had tinted windows, so she couldn’t see inside to count the number of men bearing down on them. “Hunters?”
“Absolutely. Shit!” Sabin growled again, and it was the only warning she had before a fourth car pulled out in front of them. Boom. Crunch. Metal crashed against metal.
She was thrown forward, saved from injuries by her seat belt and the airbag.
“You good?” Sabin demanded.
“Yes,” she managed. Her heart was drumming uncontrollably, her blood like ice in her veins.
Sabin was already reaching for the blades strapped to his body, the silver tips gleaming in the sunlight. “Lock yourself inside,” he said. He dropped two blades on the dash between them. “Unless you want to fight?” He didn’t give her time to reply, just jumped from the car, slamming his door shut behind him.
Bile rose in Gwen’s throat as she locked the door. Bile mixed with shame and fear. How could she sit here, allowing him to fight—she scanned the groups emerging from the now stopped vehicles, running for him, guns raised—fourteen men on his own? Dear Lord. Fourteen!
She couldn’t.
Pop. Whiz.
I’m a Harpy. I can fight. I can win. I can help him.
Her sisters wouldn’t have hesitated. They would have been on top of the cars, ripping the roofs to shreds before the wheels had even stopped turning. I can do this. I can. With a shaky hand, she lifted the weapons. They were heavier than they appeared, their handles like lava against her too-cold skin.
This one time. She’d fight this one time. But that was it. After that, she was going on full-time clerical duty. Another pop. Another whiz. Then a loud thunck! She yelped. Yes, I can do this. Maybe.
Where the hell was the Harpy? Her vision was normal, not infrared, and there wasn’t a need for blood inside her mouth.
The lazy bitch was probably sated by food and touch, sleeping even. If Gwen hadn’t spent so much time suppressing the dark side of her nature, she might have known how to summon it. Now, it seemed, she was on her own.
Pop. Scream.
Can’t stay in here forever. Gulping, trembling, she emerged from the car. A horrific sight instantly greeted her. Sabin, locked in a lethal dance, arms slashing, knives cutting, blood spraying. Hunters, shooting him full of holes. To his credit, he never slowed.
“Stupid, going out alone, demon,” one of the strangers said. “Give us back our women, and we’ll be on our way.”
Gwen should have known Hunters would retaliate for what had happened in those catacombs.
Sabin snorted. “Your women are gone.”
“Not the redhead. We saw her with you. That whore certainly cozied up quick.”
“Call her that again. I dare you.” There was so much fury in his voice, Gwen was surprised the Hunters didn’t bail then and there.
“She’s a whore and you’re a bastard. I’m gonna jam you up with copper, revive you and spend the rest of my life making you pay for what you did in Egypt.”
“You murdered our friends, you son of a bitch,” someone else piped in.
Sabin didn’t say another word. Just continued to pound forward, eyes glowing bright red, a flash of sharp, gnarled bones suddenly visible beneath his skin. Bodies toppled around him, but how much longer could he last? There were—eight more. Eight still shooting at him. Not to kill, but to incapacitate, going for his calves, his upper arms.
Gwen could almost hear his demon tossing dangerous little insecurities in their ears: You can’t really beat him, you know that, right? There’s a very good chance your wife is going to have to identify your body tonight.
Blocking the sound, drawing on every ounce of courage she possessed, she inched forward. She’d distract the Hunters, allowing Sabin to pounce. Yes, yes. Good plan. Okay. How best to distract them so Sabin could swoop in and work his magic, though? Without getting killed or maimed in the process, she qualified.
The answer came to her, and she almost vomited. No, no, no. There’s no other way, one part of her said.
This is stupid and suicidal, the other part replied. Didn’t matter. She was doing something, acting brave for the first time in her life, and it felt…good. Really good, actually. She was still scared, still trembling, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Not this time. Sabin had saved her from the Hunters, so she owed him one. More than that, as she peered over at the men partly responsible for her year-long confinement, she felt a sense of entitlement mixed with an urge to hurt.
Sabin had been right. It would feel good to destroy her enemy, up close and personal. The only problem: she wasn’t a trained soldier like her sisters. She knew what to do, but could she actually succeed?
Gotta try. What was the worst that could happen, anyway? Well, she could die. Gwen sucked in a breath, straightened and waved her arms in the air, blades glistening in the sunlight. “You want me? Come and get me.”
The dance of death ceased. Every gaze swung in her direction, and she tossed a knife. It soared through the air as if it meant to do major damage, then landed on the ground uselessly. Damn it!
She ducked, but one of the Hunters fired off a shot before she was fully covered, his friend yelling, “Don’t kill her,” and shoving at his arms to change the direction of his aim. But it was too late. The bullet lodged in her shoulder, and a sharp pain tore through her, throwing her backward.
She lay there for a moment, utterly dazed, panting, arm stinging. Being shot wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined, she realized. Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, but the pain was manageable. Especially when her vision began to wink in and out, the blue sky and white clouds there for a few seconds, gone the next few. She heard footsteps pounding from a distance, cars swerving. Hopefully, she’d distracted the Hunters enough to give Sabin his victory.
“Hold him back,” someone shouted. “I’ll get the girl.”
Sabin roared, an unholy sound that nearly made her ears explode. Then a bullet ricocheted off the tire rim and ate its way into her chest. Another sharp ache blasted through her. Okay, that pain wasn’t so manageable. Her entire body was trembling, the muscles seizing into hard knots. But what bothered her most was the fact that warm blood was soaking her pretty new T-shirt. A T-shirt she herself had picked. A T-shirt she’d been so proud and happy to wear. A T-shirt that Sabin had peered at with lust in his eyes.
It’s ruined. My beautiful new shirt is ruined. At that, even the Harpy stirred in anger, finally rousing.
It was too late, though. Gwen’s strength was draining from her, along with her lifeblood. Her vision went completely black, no more peeks of color. Sleep pulled at her, beckoning, lulling, but she fought it. Can’t sleep. Not here, not now. There were too many people around her. She’d be more vulnerable than ever. A disgrace to her family. A target once again.
“Gwen!” Sabin called. In the distance, there was a sickening rip, as if limbs were being torn from a body, followed by an ominous thud. “Gwen, talk to me.”
“I’m…fine.” The darkness finally swallowed her whole, and this time there was no fighting it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE MEETING WITH SABIN was due to kick into gear any moment, yet Aeron hadn’t seen any sign of Paris. No one had, and the different sets of lovebirds had been stumbling from their rooms at different times, coming from all different directions.
He’d worried about the warrior all night. Never had he seen the usually optimistic man so bleak. Wasn’t right. Wouldn’t be tolerated. Which was why Aeron now stood in front of Paris’s bedroom door, knocking insistently.There was no answer. Not even the sound of footsteps echoing.
He raised his fist to knock again, this time louder, harder.
“My Aeron, my sssweet Aeron.”
Hearing that familiar, childlike voice, hope flooded him and Aeron spun. And there she was. His baby. Legion. He’d only known her a short time, but she’d already become his favorite part of himself, weaseling her way into his heart with her unquestioned loyalty to him. She was the daughter he’d always secretly wanted.
When his gaze collided with the waist-high, green-scaled, bald, red-eyed, clawed, fork-tongued little she-demon all his worries melted away, Paris momentarily forgotten.
“Get over here, you,” he said gruffly.
That was all the encouragement she needed. Grinning widely—and baring those sharp little teeth—she leapt at him, landing on his shoulders and winding herself around his neck. She squeezed him tightly, cutting off his air, but he didn’t mind. The boa-like embrace was her version of a hug.
