The blow sent me reeling backward and if the daggers weren’t practically melded to my palms, they would have flown across the temple. I skidded to a stop a good ten feet from where I’d started, flat on my back and seeing stars. Son of a bitch. That one was going to hurt in the morning. I rolled on my back, using my legs as leverage and catapulted myself to my feet. I took a couple of staggering steps, barely regaining my balance before Mithras swept my feet out from under me.
Ouch.
He swung the staff around with a quick jab and sunk the blade into my flesh at the junction of my shoulder and chest.
Holyfuckingshit!
Pain radiated from the wound, so intense that my stomach heaved. Mithras turned the blade, opening a gaping hole in my chest before he removed it with a sickening slurp as the suction of my body tried to hold on to the blade. Yuck. I rolled away before he could bring the weapon down again, instinct urging me to leave the prison of my body behind. I wish… IwishIwishIwishIwishIwish… Damn it! My left hand was almost numb from the cold as though my ring was cranking into overdrive in an attempt to give me what I needed. But like an engine with a blown transmission, I could stomp on the gas pedal all I wanted. It wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
“Darian, look out!”
The sound of Asher’s voice was a godsend. But my relief that he was still alive was short-lived. A booted foot made contacted with my ribs before I could get my ass out of the way. Bones cracked from the impact, a crunch that vibrated up through my sternum. Breath rushed from my lungs in a loud whoof! that I felt all the way to my goddamned toes. I tried to suck in air but I couldn’t draw a breath.
God, please, just give me a second, here. I needed a time-out. A memory tickled at the back of my brain, one from a year or so ago when Tyler had constructed an invisible barrier of protection over me. I looked through the haze of pain clouding my vision to see Mithras twirling the spear high over his head. Another second and the spade-shaped blade would be plowing through my cranium. Probably not the kind of damage even my quick healing body would recover from.
I wish I had a barrier of protection over me.
I didn’t know how Ty had done it, but I prayed the focus of my thoughts in addition to my wording was specific enough. Another shock of cold snaked up my arm right as Mithras brought the spear down. It bounced off of what appeared to be thin air and clattered to the floor several feet from where he stood. Advantage: me.
My ribs were still knitting together but my shoulder had healed to the point that it no longer felt like it was disconnected from my arm. I didn’t have time to wait for everything to heal, though. I needed to kill Mithras while I had my chance. The barrier disappeared once I steered my focus back to the fight. Apparently, I wasn’t as good at multitasking as I thought. Mithras held his hands out, palms up and two long daggers appeared in each fist. Damn, I really wanted to know how he did that.
I cut and stabbed, parried and jabbed. Spun away once and again, my speed increasing as I gave more control to the daggers. I caught him on the chest, a ribbon of crimson blooming from the long slice and on his forearm, a cut so deep I swore I could see the bone. He healed as quickly as I did, though. Quicker. Which meant if I was going to kill him, I’d have to take the bastard’s head from his shoulders.
He kicked out and caught me on the hip, but it was nothing more than a graze and I merely spun away. As I regained my balance Mithras threw his head back and bellowed to the sky, and with each vibration of his gravelly shout, his human form sloughed away by slow degrees. Well…most of it sloughed away.
Horns sprouted from the crown of his head, elongating and curling outward from his skull as his nose became more snout-like. Thick, black hair sprouted over his skin and his thighs and calves bulged as his muscles became more dense, corded. His booted feet morphed, clicking on the marble floor as they transformed into hooves. If it was possible, he grew even taller, his body thicker, stacked with powerful muscle. Mithras, the warrior’s god, the one to whom the ancient Romans sacrificed bulls as part of their ancient rites had become a…Minotaur.
Okay, that was just weird.
Each stomp of his hooves shook the floor beneath me, each chuff of breath expelled from his snout created a warm breeze that stirred the air around me. Gross. He swiped out one massive arm creating a whooshing sound that made me damned thankful the blow hadn’t connected with my face. I didn’t know much about the old gods, their powers, or rules, but seriously, there was no way Mithras should have been allowed to run rampant on the earth. Wasn’t there some sort of old god’s retirement home he could go to? In a realm far from this one?
Rather than revel in his glory days, Mithras had come back with a vengeance, doing whatever he could to revive his dead religion. Ty had been right. Mithras needed to be put down. ASAP. I only hoped I could get the job done.
The daggers lent me some mad skills in the kicking ass department, but they wouldn’t cut through the bull’s thick neck. Beheading the bastard was my only option and for that, I’d need my katana. I dodged a downward cut and fell into retreat as a plan formed in my mind. The daggers were bound to my will, shared my intent. No one else could touch them but me. What would happen if I buried them to their hilts in Mithras’s chest?
No time like the present to find out. I drew in a deep breath, held it in my lungs and steadied myself as best I could, considering there was a four hundred pound Minotaur charging toward me. This was my Hail Mary. Time to let the ball fly.
I aimed for his heart and lungs, pulled back my arms and let the daggers sail. They seemed reluctant to leave my grasp, but they were bound to do my will and so I focused my thoughts on my target and intent. In the blink of an eye, they hit their mark and the charging bull took two staggering steps backward from the impact. He pulled at the hilts, but thanks to the wards, not even the god could override the power in the daggers. They couldn’t be removed from his chest, and likewise, every time he tried to wrap a meaty fist around one of the hilts, his arm was jolted back violently.
Not wasting a single second, I drew my sword from the scabbard at my back, reveling in the familiar grip. The blade truly was an extension of my arm, a part of me after having fought with it for so long. I dug my feet into my boots and pushed off at a run, sprinting toward the struggling Minotaur while his attention was still divided. A bellow of pain erupted from his wide mouth, the force of it painful to my ears.
With a shout, I leapt into the air, both hands wrapped around the grip of the sword. I swung out with as much force as I could muster, striking the corded sinew of Mithras’s neck. The blade sliced through him in a glint of steel and the bull’s massive head toppled from his shoulders as his body crashed to the floor like I’d felled an ancient redwood.
A burst of light so bright I had to shield my eyes erupted from the lifeless body at my feet and shot straight up through the ceiling in a blast of dry heat. Just as quickly as it manifested, the light disappeared, leaving in its wake an eerie stillness that tightened my chest. Had I truly killed Mithras? He was a god, after all. Whether I’d banished his soul from this plane or not, the body that had housed him was dead and right now, I was counting it as a win.
I turned to find Asher at the rear of the temple, still held in place by Mithras’s frozen troops. It was a strange sight indeed, and Ash looked a bit put out by the fact that he couldn’t move. “A little help here?”
I put my wishing skills to the test and thought, I wish that Mithras’s men would step away from Asher. As one, the soldiers and priests took two steps back, but despite the struggle apparent in their eyes, they couldn’t move of their own volition.
Ash stood and stretched his neck from side to side as he crossed to the temple where I stood next to Mithras’s body. “I don’t know what you’re doing or how you’re doing it, Darian. But I want you to teach me.”
I pulled the daggers from the Minotaur’s chest, marveling at the fact that the blades were clean and shining without a drop of blood to mar their s
urfaces. Too. Weird. I slid them into the scabbards, and a momentary shiver of disappointment passed over my flesh. When I got home, I was stowing them back in their boxes, and that’s where they were going to stay for a good long while. They’d gotten me out of a jam, but their unchecked power still frightened the hell out of me.
“I gotta say, Darian, you’re fun to watch in action.” Ash nudged Mithras’s body with the toe of his boot as though wary I’d been able to put him down for good. “And I have got to get a set of those daggers. Damn.”
His enthusiasm was cute and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that while cool as fuck, he definitely did not want a set of those daggers. I brought my sword up high and brought it down on the tip of one of Mirthras’s massive horns, taking a chunk about as long as my hand. I didn’t know if the client would accept my explanation of how shit went down, but this was the proof of death he was going to get.
“What are we going to do about them?”
I followed Ash’s gaze to the stock-still forms that I’d somehow managed to put into some sort of magical stasis. What was I going to do with them? Killing them in cold blood was out of the question, but releasing them to make it a fair fight was way more than my tired ass could handle right now. Even with Asher’s help. “Honestly, I have no idea. Normally, I’d leave this to Tyler to mop up for me, but since he’s not here, I guess we’ll leave them.”
“Can you um, unfreeze them?”
“Maybe.” I mean, I’d frozen them, after all. “But not until we’re long gone. I don’t have any fight left in me tonight.”
“Fair enough. I’ll call Raif. Maybe he can spare a few people to come over and take care of the stragglers?”
“No.” I didn’t want to put Raif in a situation where he might feel obligated to call in someone from the PNT. “This needs to stay off the books, Ash. It’s how I work. Got it?” In other words: don’t you dare tell another fucking soul about what went down here tonight.
“Okay,” he said. “Sure. No problem, Darian.”
If he had any trepidation about cutting Mithras’s guys loose, he didn’t share them with me. We left the temple and once outside, Asher joined with the shadows. I looked back, twisted the ring on my finger and grazed the bear carving as I wished the men inside the temple free. A cold chill raced up my arm but other than that, I had no idea if I’d managed to release them from whatever magic held them.
I understood Tyler’s need for discretion, but when he was released from custody, we were going to have a nice, long chat. My boots crunched on the graveled driveway and then grew silent as I shed my corporeal form in favor of shadow. Held in the warm embrace of darkness and with the wind at my back, I chased after Asher back toward the city.
“Proof of death,” I said to Levi as I dropped the horn in his hand. His eyes were like platters, large and round as I recounted what had gone down at Mithras’s temple.
“Shit, Darian. That’s one for the record books.”
“Tell me about it.” Mithras had kicked my ass. My shoulder still ached though the damage had healed and my body was bruised from head to toe. I’d left out one huge chunk of my story, though. Levi didn’t need to know about the sixteen men I’d immobilized with nothing more than a thought. Nor did he need to know that I suspected Ty’s ring had lent me the magic to see it done.
“Hey, who was that guy who was in here earlier tonight?” I asked. “The one who’d been sitting at the end of the bar?”
“Hmmm.” Levi canted his head as though trying to remember. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember seeing anyone…” Liar. His discomfort was written all over his face. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” I rotated my shoulder and winced as the muscle pulled. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. If the client needs any more information, let me know. I’m beat. Gonna head home.”
“Okay, Darian. See you tomorrow.”
His tone was heavy with concern but I brushed it off. The thought that I couldn’t trust Levi wore on my mind. Tyler didn’t have the same misgivings, but the fact that he wanted me to be wary around Levi was reason enough for me to be suspicious of him. I headed out of the bar, unsurprised to find Ash waiting for me outside the door. I knew it was his job to keep an eye on me, but I really, really needed some time alone to decompress.
“Go home, ’kay? I appreciate you coming with me tonight but you don’t need to waste your time following me around tonight.”
“Xander would have my ass if—”
“Ash,” I cut him off. I kept my tone as gentle as I could, which considering how damned tired I was, wasn’t much of a stretch. “I’m going straight home and to bed. I’m exhausted. I can’t even form a coherent thought at this point. The place is warded and secured. I need to be alone. Understand?”
His lips upturned into a sad, but knowing smile. “I get it. But go straight home. And text me when you get there. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I wasn’t going to shake him. He was more stubborn than I was. But if I could wrangle even a few hours to myself, I’d take them. “Deal. See you tomorrow.”
He pulled me in for a quick hug that coaxed a lump to surface in my throat. “You really did kick some epic ass tonight. Later, Darian.”
I watched as he stepped into the shadow of the building, away from the glare of the streetlights. As smooth as a ribbon of satin, he became one with that darkness and disappeared.
The solitude was welcome, but damn it made me feel more alone than ever.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When I got to my building, I fired off a quick text to Asher letting him know I’d made it safe. It was only a few blocks after all, but I liked that he was looking out for me. I didn’t bother with the elevator, simply floated up to the second floor as my shadow-self. As I regained my corporeal form I felt like an extra from an episode of The Walking Dead, my boots scraping on the floor with my shuffling zombie steps.
For the duration of my three-block walk, my thoughts had been of Ty and nothing else. Was he okay? Were they feeding him? Was he warm? Comfortable? Okay, so I knew that jails of any kind weren’t designed with the comfort of the imprisoned in mind, but I wanted this to be as easy for him as possible. How much of his magic had Adare managed to nullify? All of it? None? Keeping my distance from the PNT facility was going to be tough when all I could do was worry that Tyler wasn’t okay. If anyone laid even a finger on him, I was going to make them pay.
I removed Xander’s daggers from my belt and tucked them back in their box. It seemed that each time I used them, it became harder to part with them. Which was why they weren’t coming out of that box for a good, long while. I shucked my katana and hung it above the fireplace, my eyes tracing each detail lovingly. Now that I knew the sword had been passed down to Xander through the generations, I was starting to think that I should give it back. Especially after Raif had been so outraged that his brother gave me the daggers, too. I should give them all back. Every single thing he’d ever given me. I looked around my apartment, every piece of furniture, art, and appliance courtesy of the Shaede King. Looked like I might be going shopping soon.
I needed to make a clean break from him if I was going to convince him to go home. If I didn’t, he’d use the opportunity to continue to wear me down. And the fact of the matter was, I wasn’t sure how long I’d last. I’d been truthful when I told Xander that I loved him. Part of me would always love him. But I wanted Tyler. I needed him. And when faced with the question of which one I couldn’t live without I knew the answer. Ty. It would always be Ty. God, my love life was a wreck. I had a lot to think about, but right now I needed to sleep.
With a quick kick, I shucked one boot and then the other. My duster was next, leaving me in my long-sleeved shirt and stretchy black pants. I was too tired to even finish undressing. The memory foam of my mattress called, a siren song I couldn’t resist. Mid-flop, the door buzzer went off, the annoying sound drilling straight into my already aching skull. I was going to kill whoever was outside my
door, be it friend or foe. I hopped up off the bed and stalked to the intercom on the wall, pounding down the button with my thumb.
“Whoever the hell you are, go away.”
“It’s Lorik.”
Ugh. “Lorik, I’m beat and want to go to bed.” Jeez, he was a pain in the ass. Seriously, who drops by for a visit at two o’clock in the morning? “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“No. It can’t. Can I come up?”
“Fine.” I hit the button to let him in and disengaged the alarm as I expelled a low, drawn out groan. God, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open and I swore if Lorik even tried to drag me out of this apartment for whatever reason, I was going to dismember him and enjoy every minute of it.
Moments later, the elevator stopped at the second floor and opened up into the living room. Lorik stepped out, his usual neat and tidy-self looking more than a little undone. Jesus, what now?
He strode into the living room and made himself at home, settling in on the couch. His haggard appearance made me nervous, as did the shift of his eyes that seemed reluctant to focus on me. Word sometimes traveled quickly in the supernatural world. If Lorik already knew that I’d killed Mithras, it might explain why he looked so butt hurt. But really, Mithras wasn’t the only game in town. It wouldn’t be tough for Lorik to find a new gravy train to jump aboard. I settled onto the arm of the chair opposite him. Might as well get it all out in the open now.
“I take it this isn’t a social call. You’ve heard about Mithras.”
He raised his head, gaze unfocused. “Hmmm?”
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