Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2)

by Veronica Del Rosa

  “Everyone buff up.” In the center of the grassy meadow, Markus commanded the attention of the lethal warriors present with ease. “Mages, buddy up with a werewolf. Cast your buffs on them. Before we enter the portal I’ll invis everyone. Don’t forget to give them see invisible as well. We don’t want to lose anyone. Oh, and I’ll bridge the mind-speak so we can communicate. Keep in mind, each use will weaken the spell, so use it when absolutely necessary.”

  Mages and werewolves paired up to cast offensive and defensive spells. Energy built and pressed against Derek’s skin. The uncomfortable dance of electricity pushed and pulled, sighed and roared over him. He wanted to shout but forced himself into stillness. This was a necessary evil. For Sylvia, he would withstand the fires of hell.

  A heartbeat passed, and Markus stood next to him. He hadn’t seen the mage move. Damn, he’d forgotten how fast the other man travelled.

  “I’ll pair with you, my friend. We’ll take lead.”

  Before he could reply, Markus cast several spells on him, all feather light. The only time it felt like a gentle caress was with Markus. Usually, it smashed into him like a sledgehammer when he was the recipient of a spell, even beneficial ones that shouldn’t harm him. The same question creeped into his mind: was Markus that powerful, or were the other mages that inept? He had a feeling it was due to the former.

  Which begged the other question, why had the mage lied to him? Markus had cast the other spell, the one he’d dismissed as nothing. The magic felt identical.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Seraphina airily stated to no one in particular.

  The entire group, save Markus, gave her a wide berth, unwilling to accidentally offend her. A Fae’s pride was as notorious as the punishments they meted out for imagined slights.

  Tales were told of a human male who had stepped on the toes of the Fae Queen during the midsummer revelry. She had forced him to dance until he had bleeding stumps left. At the same revelry, a woman had laughed at the wrong time, and the Queen had cursed her to bray like a donkey whenever she tried to talk. Humans soon learned to avoid Fae lands, although some unwary ones still stumbled into open portals and became unwilling guests.

  Derek turned his attention to Seraphina, curious as to how she could help. The Fae were vicious, but her outfit was simply ridiculous. Bullets would tear through her, and even humans knew to use cold-iron bullets. If they were smart, these humans would have two guns, one for cold iron and the other for silver bullets.

  “I want to play now. Markus, can I play now, please?” She clapped her hands joyfully, dancing in place. Her smile, however, was less sweet and more malevolent, her hunger for mayhem evident.

  Markus’ lips twitched with amusement.

  “Go ahead, open the portal. Seraphina will go first. We follow her lead. Do not engage until we’re inside the building. No screwing around, Seraphina,” he told her sternly.

  Clearly offended, she snorted. “Oh please. This isn’t my first raid. I know what to do. Stand back and watch a true master at work.”

  She turned her back to Markus, her hair swirling around her. Quicker than he thought possible, a rip between the two worlds appeared. No energy build-up, no electricity. Between heartbeats, she’d opened the portal. No wonder the Fae could disappear without a trace.

  More magic slithered through the air as Markus made the mages and werewolves invisible, each disappearing from his sight. Again a gentle whisper of electricity wrapped around him, and he gained the ability to see the others.

  “Damn, I wish I could do a mass spell like that,” someone muttered.

  “Keep dreaming,” another one answered. “It’d take you centuries to gain that kind of power.”

  Derek tuned them out, searching for his pack members.

  Zmitro paired with Victor, hardly a surprise. The two had been friends for years, almost as long as Derek had hated Victor. Zmitro and Derek agreed to disagree many years ago for the sake of their own friendship.

  Isaac and Jackson were together while Emma partnered with Eric, a mage he wasn’t familiar with. A giggle escaped from Emma, and Derek’s eyebrows rose, astonished. She was usually solemn and not prone to giggles.

  A faint flush stained her dusky brown cheeks and her lashes lowered to cover her dark brown eyes. Was she flirting? She ran a hand through her dyed-green pixie hair as a shy smile curved her lips. Yep, she was flirting.

  Eyes narrowed, Derek assessed the mage she was paired with. He appeared strong and healthy. The fact they included him in the first wave meant he was an apt mage, powerful in his own right. He supposed the other male was attractive, what with his short black hair and crystal blue eyes. Was that his real eye colour? Probably a spell.

  Giving a mental shrug, he didn’t care what she did so long as she kept her head in the game. If she screwed up, he’d personally see to her punishment.

  Seraphina stepped through the portal first. Her body shimmered as it moved from one realm to the other. Derek trailed after her, impatient. Soft footsteps sounded behind him. Mages, not werewolves. His people would never make that mistake.

  A small unassuming shack, badly in need of repair, sat in the middle of a field. The building leaned to one side, and the door no longer fit snugly in the doorframe. Broken windows boarded over with black plastic bags gave it a pitiful air. The aging wood barely supported the weight of the shack, looking ready to topple at any moment.

  How the hell was this place keeping Sylvia prisoner? A good hard kick would demolish the building. He didn’t recall this from the blueprints that Mara had showed them. Where was the complex?

  Derek sent his senses out along the pack link and found the werewolves hiding in the closest tree line almost a half a kilometer away. At full speed, they could be here in less than a minute.

  Wait for the signal to attack. You’re part of the second wave.

  Turning his attention to Markus, he nodded to indicate his men were ready.

  “Hello, dear sweet humans. Come to me. Come play with me. I’m lonely,” Seraphina’s voice caused a shudder to ripple through his body, and desire weighed heavy on him.

  Briskly, he shook off the effects, refusing to succumb.

  Her power was awe-inspiring in a truly horrifying way. Most of the males in their group tried to join her, held back by the women.

  A handful of them seemed unaffected, but Derek didn’t have the luxury of time to figure it out. Why he himself shook it off was simple. He desired only one woman, and it wasn’t Seraphina.

  The shack door creaked opened, and two men sauntered out gripping assault rifles. They wore hunting fatigues to fool innocent bystanders into believing they were ordinary hunters. However, the hard glint in their eyes, the casual ease with which they held their weapons and their lethal prowl told the truth.

  Cold-blooded killers. Hired mercenaries.

  And they headed straight for Seraphina.

  Both men were shorter than Seraphina by a few inches but more than made up for it with the amount of muscles on their bodies. They either spent a lot of time in the gym or were intimately familiar with certain drugs.

  The crazy Fae smiled, lips closed to keep her unnerving teeth hidden. She twirled in a circle, letting her hair and short skirt flare out. An impressive amount of thigh flashed, and the air filled with the musk of aroused male.

  “Hello boys,” she purred, every inch the seductress.

  Her hair caressed her exposed skin, over her arms, stomach and thighs. The men’s eyes followed her every move. They shifted closer, anxious to touch, and Derek shook his head at their stupidity.

  While glad her skills worked in their favour, didn’t they think it strange a beautiful woman would show up in the middle of nowhere for their pleasure? Just how potent was Seraphina to overcome their natural wariness? These weren’t youths unused to war. These men trained to survive no matter the cost.

  “I’m feeling bored. Entertain me?” she asked, letting her fingers nimbly dance over the chest of first on
e then the other.

  She twisted around and rubbed her back against the dark-haired one. Grabbing hold of the blonde’s belt buckle, she yanked him closer, sandwiching herself between the two of them. The brunette ground his hips into her butt, obviously enjoying the feel of her. The blonde laughed while he stroked her arms, moving slowly to her shoulders, then closer to her breasts.

  Without warning, both men fell to the ground.

  Dead.

  Seraphina stamped her foot and pouted. “Markus, I was having fun. I would’ve gotten around to killing them…eventually.”

  Markus gave her a quelling look, one that would have made any Enforcer piss themselves. Seraphina just sniffed at him, her nose in the air. Derek was close enough to hear him as he leaned in and tersely whispered in her ear, “Did you enjoy their hands on you, creature?”

  She stiffened as if he’d slapped her and replied coldly, “Not as much as I enjoy my lover’s hands on me, mage.”

  She shoved past him, and her shoulder slammed into his, forcing him to step back. Her hair lingered though, caressing him, before it, too, continued.

  “How the hell did he kill them?” a mage close by hissed.

  “Damned if I know. His invis didn’t drop. How can you cast killing magic without dropping invis?” another mage said.

  Derek sliced them a glare. The area wasn’t secure. Both firmly shut their mouths, although fear and awe lingered on their faces.

  Every inch the elegant lady, Seraphina glided to the open door and peeked inside, careful not to touch the doorway.

  “Does anyone else want to play?” Her seductive voice drifted out of the room, wrapping itself around Derek and the men. This time they were prepared for the effects and fought it off quicker.

  “It’s clear, boys and girls. Which means we need to figure out how to get into the underground bunker and find more playmates.” The girlish tone disappeared as she muttered, “Too bad someone didn’t let me interrogate the other two. Damn jealous bastard, not wanting me to have any fun.”

  Markus quirked his eyebrow over her comments but refrained from replying. Derek was a little mystified over his restraint with this Fae. Rarely did he allow such blatant disrespect. Was she the Fae informant everyone hinted about?

  Sliding past Seraphina, Markus strode into the tiny shack and assessed the room. He came back out and said, “There’s a locked door in the floor. Who wants the honour of blowing the hell out of it? Keep in mind, this will drop your invis, and you’ll be a target for whoever’s down there.”

  Jackson stepped forward. “I’ll do it. I’ll summon my imp. He can distract or incapacitate anyone down below, so don’t attack the little guy. I’m kind of partial to him.”

  He rubbed his ring, and a four-foot-tall imp appeared next to him. Two tiny white horns jutted from his forehead, and white spikes trailed down his spine. His black skin gleamed in the sun like polished marble, shadows swirling underneath. Bright red pupil-less eyes darted around to take in the surroundings.

  He was mesmerizing to look at, like a deadly cobra.

  A full-throated evil cackle erupted from the imp, surprisingly loud for such a little guy, and he hopped around, eager to cause chaos.

  Jackson stood near the open door of the shack and started pulling energy into himself, gathering enough to destroy the hidden door. Derek’s skin itched. Damn it, he hated mages and their magic. The intense pressure made his wolf howl. If he didn’t let it out soon, it would shred his insides in frustration.

  A loud bang and the ground shaking distracted Derek from his wolf’s restlessness. A blinding flash illuminated the area. He sent a hasty message to the hidden wolves, Stay put. Not time for you yet.

  When he looked again to the shack, he saw just a gaping chasm in the ground. A streak of black zipped to the opening and disappeared. Screams drifted towards them as the imp took care of the guards who had survived the blast. He couldn’t even summon a shred of pity for them. They had made their choices.

  Single file with Markus in the lead and Derek second, the Enforcers moved to the newly made crater and dropped down. Cracks ran along concrete walls, and chunks of the ceiling littered the floor.

  They stood in a room used for evaluating visitors. The broken ladder hung haphazardly from the wall, and a desk was overturned, its contents spilled across the floor.

  Bodies were scattered about on the floor, some dead from the imp, others crushed by the fallen ceiling. Lights flickered and created moving shadows. The aroma of blood hung heavy in the air.

  Fanning out to secure the area, the men and women waited for their instructions.

  “Seraphina, remember your promise. Help the Enforcers and prisoners. Destroy the guards and scientists if required. We don’t want all of them dead as we need to interrogate them.” Markus pinned her with his eyes and didn’t look away until she nodded, licking her sharp teeth with glee. She bounced away, fading into the shadows.

  Derek almost felt pity for the poor bastards she’d find.

  Almost.

  “Wolves, change forms. Mages, stick with your wolf. I know it doesn’t happen often, but we’ve trained to fight side by side. Don’t get killed because I hate the damn paperwork they make me fill out.”

  Removing his jeans and button-up shirt, Derek tossed them into the pile made by his pack. All of them had dressed in jogging pants and t-shirts, clothes easy to remove and easy to replace. They’d already undressed and were now impatiently waiting for him to shift as well.

  He embraced his other side, freeing the wildness within him. The pain of changing energized him. A loud howl signaled his need for vengeance and his pack’s answering call echoed in the wrecked room.

  Opening himself to the pack link, Derek connected to his waiting wolves in the trees and found it difficult to send a message.

  Join the next group leaving the portal.

  And yet the link found Sylvia with ease. Interference? How was that possible? How had the humans found a way to block the connection he had with his wolves?

  Knowing he didn’t have time to puzzle it out, he shelved it for later. Instead, he focused on Sylvia. He couldn’t yet send his thoughts to her, but he felt her hope and excitement.

  For once she wasn’t in pain.

  Chapter Seven

  The loud rumbling that shook the room took Sylvia by surprise. It was one hell of a signal, and Revenant was right. She knew when to attack. Her first targets: the three scientists to her left. Those callous, unfeeling bastards would soon know the agony they gave to her. The need to tear them apart and savour their fear almost overrode her common sense.

  Wasting time wasn’t smart, and neither was terrorizing them. Guards could arrive at anytime, and many carried the drugs that incapacitated her. Time to get the hell out of here and fast.

  The pleasure of shifting into her alternate self was ecstasy. Months of suppressing her other half had taken its toll on her. Every werewolf needed to embrace both sides and bring balance between the two. To deny either brought mental suffering.

  On furry paws, she stretched. Her nails clicked against the metal bed.

  Shouts of horror brought her back to reality. This was not the time for dawdling. She had revenge to exact. Her lips curled, showing off her wicked teeth, and a snarl filled the air.

  Fear poured from them. Such a heavenly scent. One she wished she could savour.

  She sprang off the table, glad they’d stupidly relied on their drugs to keep her complacent instead of strapping her down. As she jumped, she opened her jaw wide and clamped down on the middle scientist’s throat. Her front claws raked the chests of the men standing on either side of him.

  Warm, sticky blood filled her mouth. Her human side gagged at the taste.

  Unable to stay upright, the middle scientist fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

  A light gurgling came from his ruined throat. He had moments of life left, and she hoped it was horrifying.

  A quick glance at the other men showed the
y, too, had little time left. Fatal wounds bled profusely from the ragged tears in their chests.

  All three men were beyond saving. She laughed, an odd chuffing sound, pleased at her handiwork. They didn’t suffer as much pain as they had put her through, but it would do.

  A skittering, squeaking noise caught her attention, and she swung her head around. Damn, she’d forgotten about the other two in the room. It appeared her actions had stunned them at first. Now they wasted no time. They ran to the door, slipping and skidding as they went. Panic didn’t lend them grace.

  They wouldn’t survive her wrath, either.

  She took a running leap at them, marveling at their stupidity. They’d just seen her take down three men because they stood too close, and yet, they ran to the door together. For that alone they deserved to die.

  Angled between them, her sharp claws dug into their backs, and screams of agony erupted from the two men. They both were flung forward. One of them smacked his head off the counter near the door. A horrible crack filled the air, and his body pushed backwards before he fell to the ground, his screams silenced.

  The momentum off-balanced her, and she rolled to the side. Her claws dug deeper into the other man and yanked him toward her instead of the floor. He fell on her as she slammed to the floor. Air whooshed from her chest.

  Sylvia yelped in pain, angry he’d ruined her euphoria.

  How dare he take that away from her? After living in constant agony for months, she detested the slight pain he caused. The rational side of her recognized she was overreacting, but her rage exploded.

  Hurt him, make him suffer.

  His heavy body rested on her. Shallow, gasping breaths as he struggled to draw air into his lungs. She dug her teeth into his neck, grinding into his bones. With a flex of her claws, she tried to free them. Stuck. His ribcage trapped her and refused to let go. She bucked at him, twisting and writhing under him, trying to free herself. In her frenzy, she decapitated him.

  His head rolled away, smearing a bloody trail along the floor.

  She’d just bitten a man’s head off.