She smiled as that part of their shared dream came back to her.
“Thinking about your lover?” the vampire said as he moved around her and clearly he had chosen to ignore her and was determined to piss Thorne off.
Sable turned on the spot but he kept moving, forcing her to keep turning in order to avoid looking at him. “None of your business, Bloodsucker.”
“You smell like sex… but which male seated himself twixt those lovely thighs?”
Sable refused to blush. “Back off, before I make you back off.”
Grave laughed and it was haunting, a chilling sound that she prayed she never heard again. Loren and Thorne were right. He had no sense of humour. Someone had killed it and she had a feeling it had been a woman, because women were treacherous, apparently.
“You lack weapons, Little Mortal.” Grave kept pace with her and she began to get dizzy.
“The female asked you to leave her alone,” a deep male voice said from right in front of her and she glanced up to find Bleu towering over her, his dark purple eyes stormy and violent and his pointed ears flaring back through his wild black-blue hair. She edged her gaze to her right, to the black blade he held over her shoulder and no doubt against the throat of the vampire behind her.
Sable edged to one side, away from the sword, and bumped into Thorne. He caught her arm and pulled her against him, away from the two males, and growled, his crimson eyes flashing dangerously.
“I believe I warned you not to approach my female,” he said and she wasn’t sure whether he was talking to Grave or to Bleu.
Or both men.
Bleu sheathed his blade at his waist and stared hard at Thorne.
“It is unwise to take Sable from her room when she is unarmed.” Bleu dropped his gaze to her and lifted his other hand, and her eyebrows rose. Her weapons. He offered the shoulder holster with her throwing knives in it, and her belt with her blade and crossbow. “When the alarm sounded, I went to my prince and Olivia, and he tasked me with bringing you down. You were not there and someone had damaged your door. I feared you had been attacked when I saw your weapons on the dressing table… but it appears I was mistaken.”
She took the weapons from Bleu and shirked Thorne’s grip.
“Thank you.” She didn’t dare tack on Bleu’s name to her words of gratitude. Thorne was liable to lose his head and do something stupid. She could feel him glaring at her already.
She put her leather shoulder holster on and her hands trembled as she smoothed it down over her t-shirt and then tied her belt around her waist.
“Perhaps I was not mistaken. You seem shaken… and I do not believe the vampire is responsible.” Bleu was treading on thin ice and the look in his eyes said he knew it and he wanted to push Thorne.
Men.
“Speaking of bloodsuckers. Now I’m not so unarmed…” She reached for her blade and frowned when she saw that Grave had made his exit while they had been occupied. He stood off to one side with his men, buttoning a pair of black trousers. He paused, looked over his shoulder at her, and grinned. “Bastard.”
“Are you well?” Bleu said and flicked a glare at Thorne when he growled.
Sable held her hands up and stood between them, hoping to keep them both quiet for a second, preferably before they ripped each other’s throats open with their fangs.
“I’m fine. I’m half asleep and need coffee—” Her eyes widened as Thorne dropped into a black portal beneath him and Bleu’s expression darkened. He muttered something under his breath and green-purple light traced over his body. He disappeared too.
Double men!
Loren and Olivia appeared right in front of her and she jumped and pressed her hand to her chest.
“Holy hell… a little warning next time.” Sable scowled at Loren.
Loren looked around the courtyard, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Where is Bleu?”
“Don’t ask me. There was a thing with Grave being an arsehole and Bleu stepped in to help me, and then Thorne showed up… and then I tried to keep them from killing each other and then they both disappeared.”
Thorne reappeared right beside her and the sweet heavenly scent hit her straight away, carrying bliss through her tired bones.
Coffee.
He held the clay mug out to her and grinned, and damn she wanted to kiss him when he looked as if he might burst with male pride.
“Thank you,” she said and took the mug, inhaled the delicious aroma, and sighed.
“I sent an order to the kitchen to brew some while everyone gathered. Is it to your taste?” Thorne eyed the mug.
Sable blew on it and then sipped. It tasted even better than it smelled.
“It’s perfect,” she said and tried to hide her smile when he puffed his bare chest out.
Bleu appeared on the other side of her.
“Oh,” Olivia said and Sable looked over at him and her eyes flew wide.
He had a mug too, and a black eye and a split lip, and a very ugly bruise on his jaw.
And now that she saw him, she swung back to Thorne and noticed the bruise and cut on his jaw and the one darting across his left eyebrow.
“Seriously?” She shook her head and scowled at them both. Thorne continued to grin. He thought he had gained a victory over Bleu. Sable would see to that. She turned to Bleu and took the mug of coffee from him too. “Thank you. It was very sweet of you.”
Bleu grinned now.
She knew she shouldn’t encourage him, but she couldn’t let either male think they could score points with her by hurting the other.
Sable poured the coffees back and forth in the two mugs, mingling the contents, and then handed one to Olivia. Loren frowned and looked as if he was considering teleporting to get his female coffee rather than letting her have one that had been brought by Thorne and Bleu. If he dared, Sable was going to scream.
Thankfully, he had better control of himself than the other two idiots standing on either side of her and didn’t protest as Olivia sipped the coffee and smiled.
“It’s good.” She looked at both Bleu and Thorne. “Although next time, could you teleport to a Starbucks and get me a grande skimmed caramel macchiato?”
Sable laughed. Thorne and Bleu looked thoroughly unimpressed. Loren muttered something about his mate’s obsession with desiring that drink every other morning.
Fargus came over and said something to Thorne in the demon language. Thorne nodded, his expression turning grave, and responded. Fargus saluted and walked away, shouting what sounded like orders.
“It does not sound good,” Loren said and she looked up at him.
“What doesn’t sound good?” Sable was beginning to hate her inability to understand the demon tongue. She really needed to study it. Did Rosetta Stone do a demon language course?
Maybe Loren could teach her, when he wasn’t busy with Olivia or running an entire kingdom. She didn’t dare ask Bleu or Thorne.
Thorne heaved a sigh and his shoulders settled lower than before, as if the weight of the world, or at least his kingdom, had just come crashing down on them.
“Demons from the Fifth Realm have breached the border again and have already killed many in a village there. We must go and force them back.” Thorne went to turn away from her and she caught his wrist.
He looked back over his shoulder at her.
“They want to lure you out. You can’t give them what they want. You need to stay here. If you fall… your kingdom falls, Thorne.” She knew she had made a terrible mistake the moment the words left her lips.
His irises blazed crimson, burning like fire, and his horns curled. His pointed ears flared back and he growled down at her and snatched his arm from her grip.
“Do not tell me to cower in my castle, Mortal. Do not think to lecture me about the safety of my realm… I have been fighting for this realm for nearly three thousand years, as have many others here, and if I am destined to die for it, then so be it. I would sooner die on the battlefield than live in shame.
”
He flashed his fangs, turned his back on her and stormed away.
“Thorne.” Sable reached for him and Loren grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She looked up at him, into his vivid purple eyes, and whispered, “I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“He knows.” Loren slowly released her arm and ran his hand through his short black hair, tousling the longer lengths on top. “But you must think before you speak. You desire to protect him and his kingdom, but such words can wound.”
She nodded and swore she wouldn’t say such a thoughtless thing again as she sipped her coffee. She would have hated it if he had dared to tell her to remain in the castle, away from the battle, showing no faith in her abilities as a warrior or her strength.
She fought the urge to go to him and apologise, to tell him that she would never belittle him in such a manner again and search his eyes for a sign that he had forgiven her and wouldn’t hold her careless words against her. They hadn’t been born of a belief that he was weak. They had been born of worry, fear that he would end up hurt or worse, and the startling epiphany that she wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to him.
Because no matter how hard she had fought it and tried to deny it, she felt something for him, something so deep and consuming that it controlled her at times and she knew she would never be the same again.
For the first time in her life, she felt dependent upon someone, and she wasn’t sure how to process it.
“Gather your men and prepare them for teleportation to the battle,” Bleu said and Sable nodded again, miles away in thoughts of Thorne and how dramatically she had changed since the night he had come crashing into her life.
“I’ll get ready too.” Olivia took Sable’s empty mug from her and went to move and Loren caught her arm.
“You, Ki’ara, are to remain here.”
Olivia yanked her arm free. “Whoa, no… now wait a minute. What about that whole speech you just gave… I’m not staying in the castle. You want me to toss you a Thorne speech? I’m heading out with you all.”
Sable really didn’t want to do this, but she said, “Got to agree with him, Liv. We need you here, getting the infirmary ready for any wounded, and we need Loren to be able to concentrate and he sure as hell won’t be able to if he thinks you’re in danger.”
Olivia pouted and settled her hands on her hips, pulling her dark blue t-shirt down. “I want it noted that I’m not happy about this and he,” she jerked her thumb at her mate, “isn’t getting sex for a week.”
Loren looked horrified and Sable thought he might actually reconsider his decision.
“But you do agree it’s the sensible course of action?” Sable prompted before he could speak and her friend huffed and then forced a nod. Loren growled. Olivia turned her nose up at him. The man didn’t have anything to worry about. Sable had no doubt that Olivia wouldn’t last five seconds when it came to refusing Loren a little naughty time. “Good. Bleu or Loren will bring you to the battlefield when we’ve driven the demons away and you can stabilise the wounded before they’re teleported back. Now give your mate a big kiss and tell him what a wonderful warrior he is, and we’ll be off.”
A familiar burn went through Sable and she turned to look for Thorne.
He towered over her, barely a few inches between them. She opened her mouth to apologise and it came out as a squeak as he grabbed her, pulled her flush against him and kissed her hard. She held on to his huge biceps as she tried to catch up.
He set her back on her feet before she could and she wobbled, feeling a little dazed. He grasped her shoulders and hunkered down so they were eye level.
“You are a wonderful warrior,” he whispered, his expression soft but serious, as if he truly believed what he said with all of his heart.
With that, the world rushed past her in a cold blur and she clutched hold of Thorne’s arms and unleashed a barrage of demon greetings that she hoped were as rude as Bleu had told her they were.
The world reappeared and settled around her, and Thorne grinned down at her. “You have been learning my language.”
She slapped his shoulder and he shrugged it off, looking pleased for some reason.
“What is wrong with you?” she said.
His grin widened. “You only slapped my shoulder when I kissed you this time. I call that positive progress.”
Sable considered punching him and then thought the better of it when demons appeared around her, all of them with a vampire in tow. The elves appeared next, teleporting the werewolves and her team with them.
Bleu and Loren appeared last.
Their skin-tight black scaly armour flowed over their bare chests, completing itself and turning their fingers into deadly talons. Loren’s helmet formed as the scales swiftly crawled up his neck. The helmet flared up from a point above his nose and swept back into serrated curved spikes like vicious dragon’s horns, resembling a crown. He kept the lower half open but Sable knew that would change once he entered the battle. Slats would come out from beside his cheeks, forming a mask over his nose, mouth and jaw, completing his armour and rendering him almost invulnerable. She had learned from Bleu that their armour was only weak against the same material, meaning normal swords couldn’t penetrate it.
She wanted her own set of armour just like it but lacked the psychic powers required to control it.
Bleu’s lips compressed and he looked as if he was chewing hard on a wasp as his own helmet covered his head, twin horns curving from the back of it, and the mask swept down and concealed the lower half of his face.
“Prepare,” Kincaid hollered and the werewolves stripped off as one.
Sable swiftly turned her back but many of the females in her team ogled them, and a couple even dared a wolf whistle.
That received a very arrogant-sounding howl in response.
Thorne stared down at her. Sable tried to ignore him but her eyes drifted to him. At least he was dressed now, wearing thick mahogany leather vambraces around his forearms over his white shirt, and heavy boots.
He held his hand out, palm facing down, and Sable knew what was coming. It had impressed her when she had first seen him do it but she had hidden it then, and tried to hide it now as the glowing red pommel of a sword rose out of the dark dirt below him. A long leather-bound hilt followed it and then a wide steel blade. It continued to rise, the blade barely tapering, as if it would never end. When the pommel reached Thorne’s palm, he turned his hand and ran it down the black hilt, curled his fingers around it and pulled the point of the blade from the ground.
It stood almost as tall as his chin and he swung the heavy blade up onto his shoulder with ease.
A scream rent the silence.
Thorne growled and teleported, and many of the demons disappeared too. Loren grabbed her before Bleu could reach her and she clung to him as the world disappeared, whirling around her, and then reappeared again. Loren released her and instantly sprang into action, attacking a large male with painted black horns as he ran after a screaming female.
It was a village.
Square black stone huts with thatched roofs surrounded her, some of them on fire. More fires burned in braziers, illuminating the village but throwing the landscape around her into darkness. The ground beneath her feet was as black as night but wet, trampled into an undulating path between the buildings. It smelled of blood.
Bleu appeared beside her and swept his hand over his black blade, transforming into a long spear. He growled as he sprinted after Loren, teleporting from time to time to keep up with his prince. The elves appeared around them, dropping off her team and then flying into action. Their skin-tight black scaly armour shone in the firelight as they went to war on the demons, battling them with spears, bows, blades and telekinetic blows that sent their enemies spinning through the air in different directions.
“With me!” Sable shouted above the noise of the battle raging around them in the village and her team fell in, their weapons at the ready. “Evan, take
the first squad and break through to that building.”
She pointed towards a larger hut at the end of the corridor that ran between the thatched black stone ones around her. There were women gathered there, frantically fighting, and she had spotted at least one young boy with them.
Evan nodded and was moving with half the team a second later, hacking at the demons who stood in his way.
Sable scoured the battle for Thorne but couldn’t find him. Smoke from the fires clouded parts of the village and made it impossible for her to get a clear view of the fight. The land banked downhill from where she stood and the buildings thinned around a hundred metres away. It was her best shot at making a swift run for the larger building, avoiding the thickest area of the battle.
“The rest of you, try to keep up. We’re going around back.”
She sprinted between two buildings, heading downhill, and banked right on the fourth avenue that led towards the main building. Demon males crowded the narrow corridor, busily setting fire to the thatch on the roofs of the homes.
Their heads swung her way and they grinned and said something to each other.
Sable ran straight at them, ducking as they swung huge blades at her and slashing across their calves and shins with her short sword. Her team followed her lead, disabling the demons. She didn’t have time to play with them. It was imperative that they reach the main village building to assist the women and protect their children. Nothing was going to stand in her way.
A meaty hand grasped the back of her neck. Sable grimaced as claws cut into her throat and dropped her blade, her hands flying up over her shoulders to grab the demon’s arms. She pulled hard on them, fighting to break free.
Several of her team turned back. She shook her head.
“Go! Get to the women and children,” Sable hollered to Anais, a blonde huntress more than capable of leading the team in her stead.
Anais nodded.
Sable slipped her fingers through one of the rings on her throwing knives. She pulled it free as her men left her behind, twirled it in her grip and rammed it over her shoulder, hoping her aim was true.
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