Storm's Fury

by Nya Rayne

  It was her vision come to life.

  He stepped away from her and shoved his hands deep within his pockets. “I don’t need to tell you if you run I’ll kill you, do I?” His voice was smooth, almost friendly, but his amber eyes were cold and deadly, like a wild leopard’s. You wanted to stare into them for hours, but you were too afraid of the repercussions of doing such an asinine thing.

  Stormy put just a little more distance between them, but didn’t run.

  “Good.” He looked at her, his eyes skimming quickly over her body from feet to head and back before he looked away. “I’m not that bad of a guy.” Head pointed skyward, he sniffed. “As of late, I seem to have developed a shorter attention span. Living as long as we Anubi do, it’s to be expected, isn’t it?” He glanced at her, one side of his full lips quirked in a smirk as he continued. “There’s only so many entertaining ways to kill a Yazaron before it gets downright tiresome.”

  The side of Stormy’s face throbbed, her head thumping from the abuse she’d taken at the hands of Paul Sanderson and his barbarians. And her ears were still ringing. She should be in a hospital. But instead, she was listening to some crazy Anubi ramble.

  Stormy squared her shoulders, held her head higher, and glared at Terroar. “Fury will kill you. You do know that, don’t you?” Terroar could kill her before she completed her next breath, but she’d be damned if she would allow him to think she was afraid of him.

  He looked pleasantly surprised, before he turned and surveyed the area around them again. “The first thing out of that pretty little mouth of yours should be ‘thank you.’” His golden locks were perfect, his tanned face gorgeous in every way, and he had a smile that could peel the soot off the fiery pits of Hell. He was like a poisonous flower; wholly innocent from a distance, but get too close and you’re dead.

  Stormy had no intention of being his victim, but she wasn’t going to roll over either. She clenched her jaws until they ached, which didn’t take much considering the entire right side of her face already hurt like hell.

  Yes, she was definitely thankful he had shown up when he had, but she felt like a goat being taken from a den full of emaciated lions only to be placed in an open field with one big, hungry healthy one. Either way, she was prey. And she’d be damned if she was going to thank him for using her as bait.

  She had figured it out the moment the insufferable prick introduced himself. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to believe he had been the one who kidnapped her from Tempest’s house, lured Fury to the open field to retrieve her, and then attacked them, leaving Fury battered and bleeding.

  “What were you hoping to gain by saving me? A quick death?”

  Terroar didn’t bother to look at her as he gazed off into the distance, his golden—and it was much closer to gold than blond—hair twisting errantly on the light breeze. It looked like strands of fine gold straw. The ones the queen spun in Rumpelstiltskin.

  Had Terroar not been a magnified ass-wipe, she probably would have asked if she could touch it.

  “Like I said, I’m not that bad of a guy.” He turned then and winked at her. “Until I’m pushed.”

  Before she could reply, the hairs on the back of her neck and along her arms stood on end, her stomach twisted in on itself, and her heart struggled to keep time.

  Fury’s close.

  Gale winds pushed against her, and the sound of wildlife around them vanished as ponderous clouds gathered in the sky while lightning flashed in the distance.

  Terroar paid it little mind, but Stormy found it impossible to not lean in the direction of the lightning. She wanted to become one with the clouds, and feel the wind twist its way through her. It was like it was a part of Fury, a part that called to her, whispering promises of protection. “Fury,” she whispered, taking an unconscious step toward the brewing storm.

  Terroar gripped her arm and pulled her back to his side. “How easily you humans forget.”

  The atmosphere radiated with power. A rumble of thunder ripped through the sky, sounding like someone had just pissed Thor himself off. Lightning arced, curving in midair, and slammed to the ground a few feet away from her.

  Stormy screamed, pedaled back, and nearly fell. She righted her footing and scanned the area. Terroar now stood on the other side of the field, nearer the middle. His head was down, but still from this distance she could see his arrogant smirk.

  This was exactly what he wanted. With a shake of her head, she stepped back. Her vision was coming to life. She blinked, and before her stood Fury, his rage such a palpable thing she could taste it, hold onto it, and see it rolling off of him.

  Stormy moved, slipped her arms around his waist, and tugged him back to her. “Don’t, Fury. Let’s go back to Peru. Let’s…let’s go anywhere, but I don’t want to stay here.” Fury stopped and Stormy tightened her hold on him. “Please, take me away from here.”

  He turned to face her, breaking her hold on him. She took in the large wound in his chest, the blood covering the entire front of his shirt from his sternum downward. Stormy gasped, her hand going reflexively to her mouth as she reached out with her other hand to touch the blood. “The Yazaron did this to you?” She made it a question when she already knew the answer. She palmed his cheek. “You shouldn’t be standing, Fury. You should be hibernating. My God, it damn near tore you in half.”

  “It’ll heal.” He brushed the pads of his fingers across her bruised cheek. Stormy flinched and he pulled his hand back. “Who did this?” His eyes scanned her face from ear to ear and forehead to chin, taking in every cut, bruise, and scratch. “You’re hurting.”

  “I called for you,” she whispered, wetness threatening to flood the rims of her lower lids. “I…begged.” Damn it, she was crying when she needed to be strong for him.

  He pulled her to him, a breathy gush of air slipping from his lips. “There was a barrier around the alley. I couldn’t hear your calls to me. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most.” He kissed the crown of her head and pushed away from her so that he was staring down at her. “Who did this?”

  She looked away from his tumultuous gaze, but he lifted her chin, making her look at him. “It’s not important.”

  “Who did this to you?” he asked again, leaving little room for dispute. He pushed her hair to the side, and scanned the side of her neck, a growl slipping from his lips. “Was it those pricks in the alley?” He must have seen the purpling bruise running from behind her ear to her collarbone.

  Stormy grasped his hand against her neck and brought it to her cheek. “It doesn’t matter.” She pointed at Terroar as he watched them with interest. “He killed them. I’m fine now, I swear.”

  Fury growled low. “Once I’m able to check you over myself, I’ll tell you whether you’re fine or not.”

  “He’s a bossy bastard, isn’t he?” Terroar interjected from his spot in the middle of the field. “And I taught him everything he knows.” He had the audacity to grin at them.

  Stormy glared at Terroar as Fury spun to face him. If she could have flown, she would have dived at Terroar and ripped his tongue out.

  “So, are you going to thank me now?” Terroar taunted, his infuriating smirk in place, his hands shoved deep within his pockets. By all appearances, he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Fury glared at Terroar, rage building inside him like lava before it spilled over the lip of a once dormant volcano. “Don’t act like you saved her with no ulterior motive, you bastard,” he snarled and simultaneously spoke via his and Stormy’s link, Move away from me.

  No, Fury. You can’t fight him. I saw the vision so that we could change it. Not so I could stand here and watch you die all over again. I won’t do it again, Fury! I won’t!

  “Regardless of the reason why I did it, I did it and you, my friend, should be grateful.” Terroar’s head dropped half an inch before he squared it again. “Now be a good boy and thank me like you know you should.”

  It was probably the cockiness
in Terroar’s tone, or maybe the fact that Fury’s ego was bruised from failing to save Stormy. Whatever it was, the rage churning inside of him spilled over and he charged Terroar.

  Stormy was in his head screaming, Fury, don’t! He’s trying to provoke you. You don’t have to fight him!

  He barely heard her through the roar in his head. His nails elongated into claws, tearing from beneath his nail beds. Fury pulled his fist back as Terroar sidestepped, but Fury compensated at the last moment, his fist connecting with Terroar’s jaw.

  Terroar flew back, smashed through a few large redwood trees on the perimeter of the field, and landed with a boom.

  “Thanks,” Fury hissed, stomping toward his fallen foe.

  Terroar sauntered out of the line of trees, brushing off his shoulders, his smirk in place. “Now was that so hard?” He vanished and reappeared right in front of Fury.

  Fury dodged, but Terroar vanished and reappeared again to his right, his leg coming around in a roundhouse kick to Fury’s sternum. The blow sent Fury flying back and knocked the air out of him all at once. Pain tore through his chest as he landed hard against the compacted earth.

  Terroar was over him. “When one is close to death, one stays down, old friend. So do me a favor and stay down. I truly have no desire to kill you yet.”

  Fury swung his legs up, locked them around Terroar’s thighs, and pulled him to the ground as he rolled his body so he was on top straddling him. Before Terroar could compensate, Fury pummeled him, one fist after the other, connecting to Terroar’s face and chest, each sounding like distant rolls of thunder.

  Terroar blocked one of Fury’s blows and threw a left punch to connect with Fury’s right temple, throwing him off. Terroar used that break to jump to his feet and charge Fury as he tried to stand. Two quick, powerful kicks to the midsection sent Fury flying into the tree line, his head bouncing off a large boulder.

  In the distance, Stormy screamed his name, her feet pounding against the ground to get to him. He reached for her mind, and felt her fear for him, her desperation to get to him, and something else. Maybe, love? Maybe.

  Before he had time to regain his composure, Terroar was standing over him, no hint of a smile on his face. He leaned down, grabbed the front of Fury’s shirt, and yanked him up so they were but a breath away. “Have you gotten your fucking vengeance, yet? She fears for you and still you fight. Have you nothing more important to fight for now?”

  “Fuck you,” Fury seethed. He called upon his inner power, causing the ground to rumble and roll before splitting open. Lava layered with fire burst free, singeing trees, grass, and everything else in its path.

  Terroar sprung back away from him, his eyes narrowed. “Again with the fire, Furiosus?” he sneered. “When will enough be enough?” Terroar hated fire about as much as Fury hated ice and water weapons.

  “When your bones liquefy.” Fury called large balls of blazing fire to his palm and hurled them at Terroar as he raced in a wide arc around him.

  The moment he let the last ball fly, Fury recognized his mistake.

  “Ambrosia,” he shouted as he raced in her direction. He made it in time to wave the soccer sized ball away, but she was no longer there. Fury peered across the field, his heart raging in his chest. She was cradled in Terroar’s arms.

  With a gloating smirk on his face as he set her on her feet again, Terroar quipped, “What would you do without me? Don’t answer that; I already know.” He looked down at Stormy and then back at Fury. “Is she not important enough, Furiosus?”

  “Shut up! Stop antagonizing him!” Stormy pushed away from Terroar and immediately took off in Fury’s direction.

  Fury leapt into the air at the same time Terroar did, his anger before a mere tantrum compared to what he felt now. Fury was not going to be made the fool, especially not in front of his chosen.

  No. Hell fucking no.

  Stormy dropped to the ground, a burst of wind pushing her back as the Anubi collided. She shielded her eyes from the blades of grass and rocks being hurled at her and tried to maintain her footing as best she could.

  “Stop it!”

  They were tearing at one another in midair, moving too fast and hard for her to see what was happening. They appeared as blurs, connecting, separating and connecting again and again, each time fiercer than the last.

  “Fury, stop,” she begged, digging her nails into the earth at her knees. “Stop!”

  A growl of rage from one of them ripped through the clearing, and Terroar flew back away from Fury, landing high in one of the trees. He pushed off again, and rushed back toward Fury, who spun, his foot coming up to kick Terroar dead in the center of his chest.

  Terroar hurtled backwards. He vanished, and appeared behind Fury.

  Stormy screamed and tried to turn away but couldn’t. She sat stock-still and watched as Terroar plunged his hand into and through Fury’s body.

  Her legs found strength from heaven knew where, and she hurled herself forward. “No, no, no!” she screamed as Fury’s body slammed to the ground, dirt flying in all directions. Stormy slid to a halt beside him. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed his shoulders and turned him so he was on his back.

  “Fury, don’t leave me,” she pleaded as she dusted blood-soaked dirt off his cheeks and the shoulders of his torn shirt. “You can’t leave me.” She pushed at his shoulders, patted his cheeks, and lifted his head to her lap. “I accept you. Damn it, I accept you, but you can’t leave me. You can’t.”

  Something moved in front of her, and she stilled as she looked up to find Terroar staring down at his handiwork. For once, he wasn’t smiling. Instead, he seemed pained and indecisive. He moved closer, his bloodied fists clenched. His neck was ripped open and the side of his face mauled. His once immaculate shirt was covered in blood and torn to shreds.

  Stormy threw her body over Fury’s. “You. Will. Not,” she declared, her voice a lot stronger than she felt. “You won’t touch him again. You won’t,” she finished weakly, hating the fact that as she said it tears were pouring from her eyes.

  Terroar stopped and looked at her. He sighed, raked his hands through his hair and said, “He knew he wasn’t in any condition to fight me, but that damn need for vengeance of his…even with you here and in this condition, he refused to back down. Idiot!”

  He turned away from her, his fists clenched.

  She had to be seeing things. He couldn’t be feeling regret. He had just done this to Fury. Stormy remained where she was, stretched out over Fury. “If you knew he wasn’t in any condition to fight, then why did you antagonize him? Why didn’t you just leave us alone?”

  “Because he never would’ve stopped looking for me. His need for retribution would destroy any chance the two of you had of a relationship.” He turned back to face her. “Before you found him, I was perfectly fine with him chasing me, because it gave him something to do. But now I have more important things that require my full attention, and so does he.”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Should I thank you now?”

  “So this was all another one of your games?” a masculine voice said from behind her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Stormy should not have been surprised to find Crul standing behind her; she was learning quickly that the Anubi were a bunch of dive bombers. By the time you became aware they were there, it was too late.

  She turned her head to see him standing there, his hair and clothing immaculate. His face hard and just as handsome as she remembered him. She pushed up off of Fury.

  Terroar didn’t seem fazed by the intrusion. He shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head in Crul’s direction. “You got my message I see.”

  “It was hard to miss,” Crul replied. “You set this up?”

  “Not all of it.” Terroar frowned as he stared down at Fury’s prone body. “Just his stint with Dr. Marstow, and Hatrid hearing that Luzivius would be at that hotel.”

  Crul asked with incredulity, “You set it up for us to capture your
own brother?” He didn’t wait for a response. “That’s low, even for you.”

  “He was in my way.” Terroar shrugged his wide shoulders.

  “So, this whole thing had nothing to do with you rescuing him? It was all a ruse?”

  “If that’s how you want to look at it,” Terroar answered. “Like I said, he was in my way.”

  Stormy sat back, her arms draped over Fury’s chest. His breathing was shallow and labored, but he was alive. She pushed a few strands of hair from his face and turned her attention back to the conversation going on.

  Crul narrowed his eyes at Terroar and took a step around her, placing himself between her and Fury, and Terroar. “How was he in your way?”

  “Not your concern.” Terroar dug into his pocket and pulled out a tiny plastic device. “This, however, is.” It wasn’t any longer than a pen cap, no wider than two of the same.

  He tossed it.

  Crul caught it easily.

  “The mess with Fury and me began as an experiment,” Terroar admitted. “We were doing surveillance on Reims Cathedral in Italy. We’d found evidence that a pack of Yazaron had flown in a few nights earlier and were taking refuge in the cemetery tombs. We could’ve easily snuck in during the day and finished them, but we never did anything the easy way.” He ran his hand down his face, and rolled his head from right to left, his neck making an unpleasant cracking sound. “I don’t remember how it came up, but we started talking about what would happen if humans found out about us, and what would happen if one of us was caught. Fury bet me that he could escape within a day’s time, killing everyone involved, of course.”

  A tree crashed in the distance, the last victim of Fury and Crul’s earlier battle.

  “We laughed it off. As far as Fury knew, it was merely a what-if, but I’ve never liked what-ifs. So, I started doing some research. That’s when I caught wind of a group called the Order. Based on the intelligence I had gathered, they took their belief in Egyptian mythology to a new level: black robes, séances, animal and people sacrifices. They were supposed to do any and everything, because they were overzealous fanatics.” He scanned the tree line. “It wasn’t until I turned Fury over to them that I found out they were anything but.”