by B M Griffin
Camille glanced at Andros’ back and sighed. Who was she kidding? She’d be right there with her brother if all this fighting shit ever ended. She might dream of her friendship with Andros becoming something more, but that was just a dream. Camille had seen the women that Andros spent his down time with, skinny little witches with perfect figures and not much on the brain and brawn side of things, basically they were the complete opposite of her. Camille was a warrior, and it showed. She was tall, muscular, and bigger than some of the men in the Tanzahar army; it kind of came with the territory when you were a gargoyle. She was destined to stay in the friend zone. It might be the best friend zone, but she still wasn’t going to be seeing him professing his love for her any time soon. It was probably a good thing. Easier for them to go out to fight together if they weren’t distracted by those kinds of feelings.
Forever the troublemaker, Andros had to put a stop to the sword fight between Luka and Gareth in his own way. When the two weren’t looking, Andros shifted, but he made sure he kept the red glow that illuminated his beautiful scales, dimmed so he could sneak up on the two warriors. Flying straight up in the air, Andros positioned himself so he was directly above Luka and Gareth, then he opened his mouth and sent a flaming red streak of fire straight down between the two fighters, just missing Gareth’s arm when he took a swing at Luka.
Gareth snatched his arm back, and both he and Luka narrowed their eyes on Andros as he landed between them and shifted back so he was no longer a dragon. Camille could see the anger rolling through Gregor’s eyes and knew that he was fighting his own urge to shift. He was still a relatively young werewolf, and as such, hadn’t gained complete control over his wolf or its aggressive tendencies. A good thing in a fight against your enemy, but not so good when you worked with a bunch of immature men who liked to prank each other on a regular basis. Andros said when you were immortal it was important not to take life too seriously because it would become dull after the first hundred years if you did. Immature or not, it was Andros’ humor and spontaneity that she was most attracted to.
Luka saw Andros’ little stunt as an opportunity to show up the commander. Luka’s handsome human figure was replaced by a flying, stone gargoyle. Camille would give her younger brother one thing, as a gargoyle he looked extremely intimidating, then again, when you were a seven-foot tall creature made out of solid stone, with talons, claws, and wings that spanned the width of a Hummer, you were naturally scary to most people. Unfortunately for Luka, Andros wasn’t one of those people. Luka didn’t have a chance against Andros’ centuries of experience as a fighter.
Luka barely got off of the ground before Andros had him tackled face down in the dirt, his arms locked behind his back unable to break free. Andros hadn’t bothered to shift back into his dragon, instead using his brute strength to put Luka in his place. Andros held Luka like that for a minute, allowing the gargoyle to squirm in his attempt at getting free. He bent his head so his mouth was near Luka’s ear, and Camille could see his mouth moving but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Probably something to drive home how macho he was, the big oaf. She let a small smile slip through before putting a lock on that shit. It was time to fight, and that meant she needed to keep her warrior mask in a firm position.
“That’s enough fooling around,” Camille yelled.
Andros turned his head and winked at her before hopping off of Luka’s back and holding out a hand, offering Luka help to get up. Camille wasn’t surprised when Luka scowled at Andros and leaped up on his own, crossing his arms over his chest in an act of defiance.
“Ya’ll can finish up your macho man battle when our patrols are done for the night,” she said. “My team, we’re leaving. I expect you all to keep up and keep your eyes peeled. The Shaitan are up to something, and we all need to be on top of our game. Understood?”
Camille’s team members nodded and announced a “Yes, commander,” in unison. Luka would be coming along on her team, and she was glad that Gareth had been assigned to Andros. She didn’t want to be distracted by their need to compete with each other every five minutes. Along with Luka, Karlotta and Talea would be joining her, as well as Derrick, another member of Gareth’s werewolf pack.
****
Luka, swinging his sword around like a damn baton, started complaining, “It’s fucking dead out here, sis. We’ve been wondering these back alleyways for hours without so much as a peep from the Shaitan.”
Camille cut her eyes at her brother. This was why they didn’t work on the same teams often, then again, they usually went out in twos and she spent most nights working with Andros. Still, working with your annoying little brother was a distraction she didn’t have time for. Whenever they worked together, he always got it in his head that professionalism could go out the door since they were siblings; Camille did not agree.
The alley was discarded as garbage lined the walls of worn down buildings, and on occasion they passed a human or two digging through dumpsters for scraps to eat. There was no love lost between Camille and the humans, but she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for them when she saw things like that. No one should have to live that way, living in filthy alleys and living off of garbage just to survive. It was ironic when she thought about it, the fact the humans had attacked them for being evil, yet nobody in Tanzahar would ever be left to live in such deplorable conditions. They took care of each other, and if someone in their community was struggling, others would step up to help them out until they climbed out of whatever funk they were in.
Luka swung his arm around again, this time he pointed it at Camille like he was waving a wand, casting a spell on her. “Luka, if you don’t stop swinging that sword around like a damn teenage girl at cheer camp, I’m going to show you just how far I can shove it up your…”
Camille was cut off when a group of Shaitan leaped off the rooftops above them. There had to be ten of them. Before she could assess the situation, the doors on two of the surrounding buildings flew open and more of the demons came storming in their direction. “Shit!” Camille said to herself. There was no time to issue orders or get into any formation. They were surrounded by the Shaitan in seconds, and for the first time in her long life as a warrior, Camille found herself worried about who would come out on top.
The Shaitan didn’t waste any time, they targeted each member of Camille’s team, separating and surrounding them individually. Camille shifted the moment she saw the bastards leaping down toward them. Like Luka, she stood seven-feet tall, a solid stone creature capable of taking down most anyone in her path. The difference between Camille and Luka, about two hundred years’ experience as a fighter, oh and Camille’s ability to lheep. Camille only had to think about being somewhere else, and there she was. It was called lheeping by their people, and for those lucky enough to develop the gift it was a great ability during battle.
Camille lheeped in and out, coming at the Shaitan from every angle possible, using her gift as she fought to gain the upper hand against their enemy. Camille formed behind three Shaitan who had Karlotta backed into a corner. Before they could register her presence, Camille swung her arm and sent her sword tearing through their necks, making quick work of removing all three of the demons’ heads before wiping their black blood from her eyes and turning to face the next threat.
Derek and Talea were fighting back to back. Derek’s skills with a battle axe were a thing of beauty, but Talea preferred a more hands on approach. Any time someone asked why she insisted on ripping apart the grotesque creatures with her teeth, Talea would just shrug and say it helped her work out her darker werewolf tendencies.
Four more Shaitan set their sights on Camille. Camille concentrated, preparing to lheep and come back behind the approaching demons, but she stopped dead when she heard someone let out a gut curdling scream, a sound that was laced with such agony she felt it down to her bones. Camille’s head jerked around, looking for the source of that gut wrenching cry. “Luka!” she cried. Her voice cracked, her emoti
ons on the verge of illuminating all sense of reason. Where the fuck was Luka? What had these bastards done to her brother?
Just before she moved to search the other direction, she caught a glimpse of a large stone body, covered in blood of both red and black, being carried away by several Shaitan. Right before the group of the demons that had been aimed for Camille took her to the ground, she saw the culprit that enticed Luka’s agonizing cries—his right arm was gone, ripped off at the shoulder blade leaving nothing but a bloody hole where it should be. Camille was frozen. She couldn’t fathom how they’d been able to slice through his arm. Sure, they weren’t invincible, even when they were full-on gargoyle, but it would take more power than she’d ever seen a member of the Shaitan possess to remove one of their limbs in that way.
Something slammed into Camille from the side. She went down fast, her head bouncing off the asphalt like a basketball, making her vision blur. Her head was spinning. Camille tried to blink, she needed to get a handle on herself and get back to her feet. She tried to lheep, but she couldn’t get the focus needed to jump through space. She couldn’t let them take her too, or worse, kill her. Luka needed her to find him and she wouldn’t be able to do shit if she was locked up with him, or just watching him from the afterlife. Nope! “Get your ass up!” she ordered herself, trying to force her eyes and body to work.
Looking up, she swore she saw a large blade, encompassed with black flames, coming down right on top of her. No doubt whatever this weapon was, it was aimed for her throat. It had to be what they’d used to remove Luka’s arm. Camille forced her arms to obey her, bringing them above her face and crossing them to block the decapitating blow. She could survive without hands or arms if she had to, but she didn’t think Aurora herself, even as the powerful Maharani, could survive losing her head.
Camille braced for the blow, but it never came. Right before the blade made contact with her arms a very large, very pissed off dragon slammed into the group of demons surrounding her. He moved with such speed, like a red flash in the night. She never saw him, just the red glow rushing by, but she’d know his presence anywhere. “Andros,” she whispered.
She tried getting to her feet again, managing to lift her head enough to see the blood soaking her abdomen. Camille managed to hold her head up a minute longer; long enough to see the patch of blood was quickly growing, nearly doubling in size in the short time she was able to keep her eyes on it. Just as her neck gave way under the strain, she felt a large arm slip under her torso, then another, and in the next second, she was off the ground cradled in Andros’ arms. Camille let her head fall against his warm chest. Even covered in the slime that filled the veins of the Shaitan, Camille loved the feeling of being pressed against his strong chest, and she closed her eyes taking in the sound of his beating heart until it lulled her into oblivion.
Chapter Eight
Aurora
Aurora was fighting an internal battle, her mind telling her to pull away, but every other part of her kicking those thoughts down into the sand. She hadn’t expected the kiss, hadn’t even considered it a possibility, but once Gregor’s lips were on hers, she couldn’t fathom anything more important than keeping them there. She knew she shouldn’t think that way. He was a human, and she was the Maharani, but the drive to be near him and to keep kissing him was far stronger than she could ever be.
Gregor was pulling her closer, and she was letting him. She brought her free hand around his head, threading her fingers into his hair like she needed to make sure he didn’t try to retreat. He was only kissing her, but she could feel him in all of her, deep down like he was caressing her soul. The pull Aurora had felt for him the first time their eyes met was so strong she thought it might pull her under completely, but in that moment with his mouth moving so perfectly with hers, she didn’t want it to let her go. She wanted to live in that feeling.
A loud crash had Aurora jerking away from Gregor and shifting in an instant. Her bedroom door stood wide open and Andros stood just inside the threshold covered in blood from head to toe. Andros’s eyes at once locked on Gregor, and just like that Andros was replaced by his dragon. His massive size made for a dragon that would intimidate most anyone. He was close to eight feet of black scales illuminated by a red glow matching his bright red eyes.
Aurora moved for Gregor expecting him to be cowering in terror, or trying to run, anything that represented a sense of self preservation. Instead, Gregor did the very last thing she expected. Gregor jumped out of her bed positioning himself in front of her, his stance was protective, a challenge for Andros to stay back. For a split second she stared at Gregor, in a fighting stance with his anger directed at Andros, the biggest and baddest creature in the room, and she smiled. He was a human, and everything about her as a dragon cried warrior, yet Gregor was trying to protect her.
“You stay away from her!” Gregor shouted at Andros. His hands were up, ready for a fight, and she could swear she heard him make the growling noise.
Andros’ eyes flared, and Aurora quickly shifted back to herself needing to put an end to this strange stand off before Andros went for Gregor’s throat. She moved to step in front of Gregor, but he held his arm out and tried to urge her back behind him. Aurora’s eyebrows raised, and she smirked at him before taking his hand and moving his arm out of her way. She stood next to him instead of moving to protect his front. Something about Gregor’s display of protection told her he wouldn’t be thrilled if she tried putting herself in between him and Andros.
Aurora turned her attention to Andros and her smile was replaced by a scowl. Folding her arms over her chest, she stared him down until he got a clue and he shifted from his dragon self. Honestly, his massive build didn’t make him much less intimidating as a man versus dragon, but this way at least Gregor would be able to hear him speak and hopefully he’d relax a bit and stop glaring at Andros like he was going to try something stupid; like attacking a magical being who could obviously kill him without breaking a sweat.
“Andros, this is Gregor.” She made eye contact with Gregor and nodded at Andros. “Gregor, meet Andros. My friend and one of my people’s top warriors.”
When Aurora looked back at Andros, his eyes were wide with shock as they darted back and forth between her and Gregor. His eyes finally locked on hers and he said, “Aurora, did you bring this human here?”
She suppressed the urge to sigh and hide her guilty face from her friend. She couldn’t blame him for his obvious shock. Hell, she was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and she was the one responsible for bringing him to Tanzahar.
“He is the male from my visions, Andros. I saved him when he was attacked by two Shaitan and brought him here while he recovered.” It was a pathetic attempt at creating a plausable excuse because she knew deep down that it was the connection she felt with him that made her bring Gregor to her home. Andros’ face told her that he wasn’t buying it either.
Andros’s expression changed from shock to anger. “How could you do this? How could you bring one of them here, to our home? What if he tells others where we are? It is not safe, Aurora!”
Before Aurora could process his movements, Gregor was across the room in Andros’s face. “Don’t talk to her like that!” he yelled.
Andros cocked his arm, but Aurora was on him faster than he could deliver the punch. Aurora caught his fist in her hand, twisted, and launched him further into her room and away from Gregor. This time when Andros brought his eyes to hers she knew he was seeing the same shock registered on her face as was on his. Why had she done that? He was her friend and a great warrior. She could have stopped him with a word, yet she’d attacked him. It was like some inner part of her had been in control, a very potent part of her that saw Gregor in trouble and jumped into action defending him. It was almost primal.
She felt something warm take her hand, and she immediately knew it was Gregor, like he’d sensed her inner turmoil and knew she needed comfort. She looked at him by her side and
he gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand and she instantly felt calmer.
“Aurora, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I did come here for a reason,” Andros said, drawing her attention back to him and away from Gregor.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Andros hesitated, glancing at Gregor like he was afraid to speak in front of the human.
“You can speak in front of him, Andros.”
Andros didn’t look like he agreed with her, but he finally got on with what he’d came to tell her, anyway. “As you wish, Maharani.” Aurora glared at him for referring to her that way. She knew it was meant to be condescending, but she would give him a pass this one time. It wasn’t every day that a human was discovered in Tanzahar, and she knew Andros was struggling with Gregor being there. “Something serious is going on with the Shaitan. There numbers seem to have increased tenfold.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “We saw that in battle together.”
Andros nods. “Yes, but that was nothing compared to the number of the demons that ambushed my battalion mere hours ago. Camille and her group were attacked as well.” Andros grew quiet and Aurora didn’t like the solemn look that took over his features.
Aurora stepped toward him. “Andros, tell me what happened. Now,” she commanded.
Before Andros could respond, Annalise came running into her room, tears streaming down her face. She ran straight for Aurora and threw her arms around her sister’s neck sobbing. “So many. Sad. Overwhelming.”
Annalise wasn’t making any sense. Her words were muttered between gasping sobs and Aurora was struggling to put two and two together.