Safi, Morocco, 1726
"One would think you would stop asking me this same question by now, Lycos." Tyson was getting tired of this courtship from the Scuri leader and king of the Werewolves.
"Why should I stop? You are a strong Fire Elemental, second only to your ex-general Raphael. I need you as my ally. I have plans, Tyson, big plans. I also have other ways of forcing you to lean to my side."
"Is that a threat, Beast?" The man Tyson was looking at was hardly a beast...on the outside. He was the richest man in the Mediterranean and his perfect physique and Roman features had been the inspiration for thousands of statues and sculptures over the centuries. He had a harem of women and men, and a line of more waiting for his attention. However, few knew that the former general of the Angels of Destruction could shift out of his beautiful human façade to become the terrifying monster of countless legends. He'd also fathered hundreds of half-human hybrids that were rampaging all across Europe multiplying into so many more Werewolves that they were starting to form their own communities, answering to King Lycos as their main leader, of course.
Tyson didn't have time for that. He'd fallen to escape the wars raging amongst the few remaining Angels in Heaven. He loved his life as the pirate Shango the Incinerator. He had his irreplaceable woman by his side. And he wasn't giving up any of that for Lycos' plans for world domination or the Luminosi's plans to stop him and protect the humans.
"I am fully neutral, Lycos. No threats from you or begging from the Luminosi can make me choose a side and give up the life I have made for myself."
"You sound so sure about that." With a quick flourish of his hand, two of his assassins, both Air Elementals, levitated down to ground behind him holding Sabine hostage.
"You bastard!"
"Last chance, Shango."
Tyson hesitated a fraction of a second too long as he took in the fear in Sabine's eyes. He never wanted her to be a part of this. He never wanted her to know the truth of what he was. He never wanted her to be in danger that she couldn't handle, and this was definitely too much for her.
In that fraction of time that Tyson thought of all the things he never wanted for his love, Lycos turned around, his hand morphing as he moved, and did the one thing Tyson never expected to happen to the headstrong, warrior priestess. Lycos drew his six-inch claws straight up Sabine's body, slicing her from her gut to her chest opening her up and sending an arch of her precious blood spraying into the air, and then spilling on the ground like the useless trinkets Tyson would toss to the side after plundering a ship.
He should have attacked the three of them. He should have let his fire explode and fly until he had destroyed them all, or died trying. Instead, he fell to his knees as they dropped her into his lap and arms, sputtering blood, trying to get out words; words he already knew because she'd told him a million times.
He could barely hear Lycos', "Nice talking to you, friend," over his own anguished screams and pleading for God to save her. The Scuri king and his assassins laughed hysterically at his weak, human-like reaction and walked away. Message received. Mission accomplished.
Murder, Mayhem, Monsters, and Mistletoe Page 7