by Mina Carter
But…nothing. She couldn’t see or hear anything odd. For all she knew, he could have smelled something dangerous. She wouldn’t have had a clue on that angle. Her sense of smell had packed in a few minutes after they’d come through the door in defense against the funky smell that seemed to surround everything here.
Thump, thump, thump…
The sound of heavy footsteps formed out of the silence, heading toward them, accompanied by a thrashing sound like a kid smacking at weeds with a stick. A large stick. Tessa’s eyes widened as the ground beneath their feet began to quake.
She moved closer to Feral, a thread of fear slithering up her spine.
“God, how big is that?”
“I have no clue, but ten to one, it ain’t gonna be friendly. Here, have these. Get behind those rocks.”
He handed her the bags he’d been carrying and nodded toward an outcrop just off the path. Large enough to use as cover in case of flying debris, they might even be large enough to conceal her if this were to go bad. And it was quite likely to go bad. She could tell from the note in his voice, not needing kyn instincts to read the tension and wariness there.
She scurried to the safety of the rocks, casting a glance over her shoulder to see Feral standing in the middle of the path. He had his blades on his hands, his jaw was clenched and the set of his body defiant.
Thump, thump, thump...
She crouched behind the rocks, her breath catching in a little gasp as the sound of the footsteps got nearer. Whatever it was, it sounded big. And the blades on Feral’s knuckles were looking smaller by the minute. She understood why the kyn used blades—guns were useless against them—but right now, she really wished he had a gun or two on him.
The odd thrashing noise drew closer and closer until it was just around the corner. Then it was there. The huge bulk of...something filling the turn in the path.
Something straight out of a nightmare.
“Holy...crap,” Tessa breathed as she looked up and then looked up some more. It wasn’t a creature. It was a damn mountain range… one covered in gnarled, wart-dotted skin ingrained with dirt and slime and stretched over a roughly man-shaped frame. It was hunched over like an old man. But it wasn’t the strength of an old man that was flailing about the massive club it held in its hand nonchalantly.
An ogre. She’d seen sketches of them in books. The sort of books carefully concealed in the houses of pixies that lived outside barrows, or that masqueraded as children’s storybooks, just in case a human should catch sight of them.
It wouldn’t do—if they ever found out that certain childhood tales were real. Sure, some, like the Watchers and Slayers groups knew the truth, but that was limited and carefully controlled. On average a single human was intelligent when confronted with the truth. Humanity en-masse was the problem. In a group, they were fearful, intent on destroying anything they didn’t understand.
Which wouldn’t be a bad thing right now, she decided, wincing as the creature spotted Feral and roared. It charged with a speed it shouldn’t have had, not being that large and misshapen. It was like someone had taken a clay man and mushed it about a bit, distorting the joints and limbs into a hideous parody of the human form.
But its face was perhaps the worst. Unlike ogres portrayed in films, this creature wasn’t the dumb and ambling, easily beaten by a modicum of intelligence, creature they were generally made out to be. Instead, its deep-set eyes gleamed with a malevolence and intelligence that was marked, even from this distance.
Noticing the eyes, though, meant you had to tear your attention away from the teeth crammed into its mouth. Razor sharp and packed in like sardines, they glinted in the half-light as it roared. Tessa caught her breath as it bore down on Feral, imagining the damage those teeth would do if it got ahold of him.
“Oh, fuck… move. Please move,” she breathed, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it would burst out of her chest. The baby, picking up on her fear, began to fret.
“Shush, shush...it’s fine. It’s all going to be fine,” she whispered as she rocked his tiny form in reassurance. She moved slightly, trying to peer over the rocks to see what was happening.
Feral stood there, studying the blades on his hands so calmly she wanted to scream. He didn’t look at all bothered. That had to be a good sign, surely? Her gaze flowed down the lines of his large body, noting the tension there. He rolled his neck again. If she’d thought he’d been alert before, his attention was complete now, his body virtually humming with awareness.
The ogre swung the massive club at Feral, going for a full body blow. There wasn’t anything else she could call it, given the size of the thing. It wasn’t a weapon designed for pinpoint accuracy. Or any sort of accuracy.
Feral ducked, sliding under the incoming blow and to the side with a feline grace she hadn’t anticipated. She knew he could fight but hadn’t seen it yet. But… he was amazing. Faster and more agile, more brutal than she’d expected, but also beautiful. The male body in its ultimate grace as warrior and protector.
His fists flashed as he moved, blades glittering in the half-light as he landed a solid blow on the ogre. It bellowed again, swiping a heavily taloned hand at the vampire that danced around it.
The fight was fast and furious, and despite how quick Feral was, it became quickly apparent to her that the few blows the creature managed to land were taking their toll. But each time Feral was knocked to the ground, he bounced back up again, shook his head and raced back into the fight.
She winced with each blow. Closing her eyes was no better—she could still hear the sickening thud as flesh pounded into flesh. The heavy thumps as Feral hit the ground each time. She bit her lip, forcing herself to watch as the kyn warrior tried everything to bring down the ogre. He moved like lightening, a fearsome sight...she imagined him on the streets, kicking ass and taking names. But here and now, he was out of his depth and struggling.
Tears filled her eyes as he got swiped to the ground again, grunting in pain. Each time, it took him longer and longer to get up. She didn’t think he could keep this up. Frustration and hopelessness filled Tessa. If he couldn’t beat the ogre… it would kill him. Pain cut through her, leaving her gasping for breath. She couldn’t bear the thought of him dying.
She should run, get out of here now and hope like hell she could outrun it, even though she knew that was unlikely. Despite their misshapen form, ogres were fast over ground and could change direction on a whim. And her firefly trick? That wasn’t going to work on a creature formed from the Witching.
She should run, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave Feral here like this, leave him here to die alone in the Night Plains. Ogres were flesh eaters, and she couldn’t bear to think of the man she loved desecrated that way.
Whoa, loved? Where had that come from? She barely even knew him. She couldn’t be in love with him...could she? She winced as he hit the floor again. She had to do something...he was getting killed out there.
Fear for his life running through her veins, Tessa released the straps holding the baby’s sling. Quickly, she placed him in a small hollow in the rock, a place she hoped he would be hidden from view and protected from the flying debris being kicked up from the ogre’s club. His thin wail plucked at her heart strings, but she hardened herself. If she didn’t do something now, that ogre would kill Feral and the two of them would be next on its menu.
Creeping out from behind the rocks, she leaned down to pick up the sturdiest stick she could find. Her heart pounded. She had no clue what she was doing. If Feral, a seasoned fighter, couldn’t get the drop on this thing, what hope did she have?
Regardless, she couldn’t leave him to face this on his own. Perhaps she could distract it or something? Allow Feral to get the advantage and finish it off. Filled with determination, she edged forward, looking for a gap in the fight so she could jump in without getting in Feral’s way, or in the path of those blades he wielded so viciously.
Spotting the perfect gap, Te
ssa shot forward, jamming the stick in her hand upward into the soft flesh under the ogre’s throat as it was busy fending off Feral’s attack. It roared in pain, black ichor splattering over Tessa’s hand and arm as it twisted violently to swipe at her. She watched the vicious talons fly toward her in slow motion, fascinated by the blood-caked claws as they headed for her unprotected stomach. Fear froze the blood in her veins, and her feet in place, as she watched her own death sweep toward her.
Feral came out of nowhere, hitting her mid-stomach in a tackle that had them both sprawling to the ground. The ogre’s claws sailed harmlessly overhead. They both scrambled to their feet, Feral shoving Tessa behind him bodily as they readied themselves for the next attack.
It was an attack that never came. The thunder of hooves surrounded them as suddenly, the small path was filled with horses. And more importantly, from Tessa’s point of view, those horses came equipped with some heavily armed knights.
The whistle of arrows cut through the air, followed by sickening thuds as they buried themselves in the ogre’s flesh. It screamed, a mingled sound of pain and fury, as it swatted at the arrows that made it resemble a grotesque hedgehog. The screams were silenced when one of the knights took aim with a heavy crossbow, death in his gaze. The next second a thick bolt sprouted from the ogre’s left eye. It blinked slowly with the other. Once, twice…then toppled backward.
Feral looked at the group of mounted knights surrounding them. Fae knights. “At least it makes a change from pixies.”
CHAPTER 7
T he Fae Court was like, well, something out of a fairy tale. Feral found himself wide-eyed at the splendor as the little group was herded along the corridor, toward the hall of the lady their rescuing knights served.
He stared around, silently astounded at the beauty of the place and doing his best to hide it. Anyone would think he was some kind of country bumpkin the way he was carrying on, not a veteran kyn warrior who’d attended more court functions and balls than most humans had had hot dinners.
“It’s mainly all glamour,” Tessa whispered as they were ushered into a hall to wait. “The court itself is a sort of fae. A proto-fae I think—what we were before we came to be, so to speak,” she murmured, speaking of herself as fae for the first time to him. “It’s alive and changes its look as it pleases, which can be a little disconcerting.”
“You ain’t kidding,” he murmured, his hand dropping to the small of her back in a protective gesture as they walked through the door. She’d been so brave against the ogre, even if he did want to berate her soundly for putting herself in danger. His heart had almost stopped when she’d darted in front of him with that stick, attacking the creature like some sort of pixie amazon.
The knights retreated, a silent bunch if ever Feral had seen one, leaving just the two stationed on either side of the huge doors. Feral eyed them with sympathy. He’d stood guard often enough to know it was as boring as hell. Their set position and expression told him that this wasn’t their first time standing by that door, and undoubtedly, it wouldn’t be their last.
“You shouldn’t have attacked that ogre.” He turned his attention back to Tessa. Settled on one of the low couches that lined the long walls, she held the baby up underneath his armpits so he could stand in her lap. Which he seemed to be loving, bouncing enthusiastically and grinning at everything. Feral grinned back, unable to resist such wholehearted enthusiasm, and held out his finger for the baby to grasp.
Tessa shrugged, busying herself with amusing the little boy and avoiding his gaze. He hooked his finger under her chin and turned her face so he could look into her eyes.
“You could have been hurt, Tessa, even killed.” His badass attitude slipped a little under his concern. “I was terrified I’d lose you...”
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” a male voice announced, and Feral looked up to see the captain of the group that had rescued them striding over, his hand holding the sword at his side still.
Feral rose and turned in an economy and speed of movement that made the fae blink in surprise, and he bit back his grin. Sure, fae were good fighters, but he was kyn. More than that… Even for a vampire he was built big, like a tank, and, according to his patrol buddies, twice as mean.
The captain hid his expression with a polite smile and swept his arm wide in a courtly gesture toward the door. “If you’ll just follow me, we have a suite prepared for you,” he invited. “My lady is not at court at the moment, but rest assured she has been informed of your arrival. In the meantime, perhaps you would like to take the time to rest…” His gaze dropped to their ogre-blood covered clothing. “And perhaps freshen up a little?”
Feral held his hand out to Tessa and helped her to her feet.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you,” he said as he studied the tall fae knight directly.
Feral rarely did circumspect. It just wasn’t in his nature. He’d found a direct look was far easier and it tended to rattle people. Which wasn’t too much of a surprise. Most people got a little edgy when glared at by over two hundred pounds of mean attitude, like the kyn equivalent of a pit bull.
He was probably imagining it, but just for a moment there, he thought he’d seen a flicker of something in the fae knight’s eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like regret, and perhaps sorrow. Maybe even disgust. But why? What did a fae knight have to be disgusted about?
His face was set as they followed the fae out of the room, anger coiled low in his chest. It was because he was a vampire. Had to be. Bloody fae and their prejudices, like they were so great anyway. No doubt they didn’t like a filthy kyn hanging around the place and lowering the tone.
His temper continued to simmer as they followed the fae down the corridor. In fact, he was surprised the guy’s armor didn’t superheat under his glare.
“Hey, the wind’ll change and you’ll get stuck like that,” Tessa said, indicating his stormy expression. “You should be pleased. We did it. We got here. It’s all going to be okay,” she offered a smile that told him she was tired, curving her lips.
“Yeah.” He smoothed a hand down her back absently, as much to reassure himself as her. Perhaps more to reassure himself even if he wouldn’t admit it. Or perhaps because he just liked touching her.
They had done it, evaded those damn pixies, made it through the Night Plains and avoided getting killed, getting their souls sucked out, or a multitude of other nasty fates. It had been a close call there with the ogre. Closer than Feral wanted to admit, and the near defeat didn’t sit well with his warrior pride.
One thing was for sure, he was going to be hitting the gym and ramping up the training when he got back to the compound. And he was going to start packing heat too, something big enough to take down even larger nasties like fae monsters.
He sighed as her words sank in, one of relief. She was right. He could relax now. They just needed to get the kid back to his parents, or this noble lady they were supposed to see next, and then they could get gone. Perhaps he could persuade Tessa to come back to his place, and they could finish what they’d started in that bathroom and at the hotel. He looped his arm over her shoulders protectively and slid her a slight smile.
His expression stopped Tessa in her tracks, his eyes full of warmth and a sensual promise that took her breath away. Her exhaustion disappeared, body coming alive as his thumb stroked over the front of her shoulder. Even fully clothed, her skin tingled, a trail of fire in the wake of his thumb.
She managed to smile back, not quite sure what he could see in her at the moment. Her clothes were rumpled and torn and she was splattered with ogre blood. But something about the smile in his eyes, the way he touched her, made her feel like the sexiest woman alive. Like the only woman alive for him.
A shiver ran up her spine as they approached yet another doorway, absently noting they’d moved farther into the court into the private wings. The captain’s mistress must be someone important to have a suite here. Which was good. The higher up the tree
this lady was, the more chance they had of getting this sorted quickly.
“Nearly home, little man. You’ll see your mommy soon,” she murmured in a reassuring voice, jiggling the little boy in her arms, much to his delight. He giggled as he patted her face with gentle hands. Tessa smiled, but it was a smile with a sad edge now. He was a delightful little boy and she’d miss him, a pang of loss already forming deep in her chest. Perhaps she could ask his parents, whoever they were, if she could visit when this was all over.
They’d done it, made a difference. It was like something out of a movie. Beat the bad guys, save the world—or the baby in this case—and the good guy always got the girl.
She slid a covert glance sideways at Feral under her lashes. Or the girl got the guy, which she very much intended to do, once they’d both showered and washed the ogre blood off. It reeked, the stench rising from the black stains on her clothes and making her wrinkle her nose. She needed a shower. But she might not wait until he was finished in there…she might just join him in the shower and jump his bones, then and there.
“This is one of the best suites in the court,” their guide, the captain who had rescued them from the plains, commented as he pushed the doors open in front of them.
Tessa couldn’t help the small moan that escaped her lips at the sight of the huge bed with its comfortable looking linen. Her back still hadn’t forgiven her for sleeping on the ground last night.
“Oh wow, this is…”
The captain smiled, his ethereally handsome face alive for a moment before the shutters came back down into place again. “Enjoy your rest. Someone will be sent for you when my lady is ready to see you.”