by Jay, Setta
She closed her eyes, remembering the look of pained horror on his face as he’d heard her thoughts. Her fears and panic. He had refused to hurt her. Even as he sat between her open thighs, stroking his swollen shaft, deep in his own need. His glistening chest had risen and fallen with arousal, but he’d held back. Still asked her if she was in a safe place before leaving her. There were no real men like that in her old world. She blinked back tears.
She clenched her teeth as another jolt of pain hit hard. Damn, she wished with everything she was that she could just get to him. She was nervous more of the unknown, wanted to get through whatever they needed to and move on. She hated that he was suffering because he knew what she had been through. He wanted to give her time. She didn’t want any more damn time. Time was making everything worse.
Wrenching pain racked at her mind and body, so strong that she doubled over. Shit, she panicked. It was so much worse, so fast. Damn it, Erik. She felt helpless, and the need to go to him was stronger than anything she had ever felt in her life.
An odd sensation came over her then; it was if she were breaking apart. Flying in wild abandon, a part of the air, but not. She followed a shining string into a sucking funnel. All she could do was hold onto that light.
Chapter 8
Lofodes, Tetartos Realm
Gregoire had gone home for weapons before teleporting into a fucking mess. He heard the alarms sounding in the city, up on the grassy rise. He felt a vein throb in his forehead. There had to be hundreds of damned hell beasts of all forms swarming the hills, trying to get up and into the breach in the city’s protection spell. He started slicing through the closest beasts while the stench of sulfur burned his nose.
Gregoire spun and cut down one hellhound, then another, that had been trying to make it through the wall of soil blocking the lower hill from the city above. He was sure Adras and Ava were responsible for the wall of earth.
Looking to the sky, he saw Drake in flight, picking off the much smaller black hell dragons. His leader was impressive to behold. Huge wings of iridescent greens expanded as he clawed the creatures from the sky and ripped their heads off with powerful jaws and piercing teeth. Gregoire could hear wings flapping, the death screams of beasts and the calls of warriors all around and on the rise above. He cut down another hound that charged forward; black blood covered his leather fighting gear. The fighting started to relax his needy body. He had been so close to finally claiming his mate. The creatures would pay for his delay. He slashed his sword again, decapitating a smaller beast that thought to catch him off guard. He was surprised at just how many there were on the hill. This was the biggest attack the Tria had ever made. They usually sent the beasts a pack or two at a time.
He saw Adras, Ava and their warriors surrounding and slicing away at an ofioeidis. One of the more difficult hell beasts to kill. Fortunately, he didn’t see any others further in the fray. The Guardians who patrolled Hell Realm spent most of their shift killing the damn serpents before the Tria could send them to other Realms. They were huge fucking snakelike monstrosities with painfully poisonous venom. They were fast as shit and strong. Add that to their regeneration skills, which were too damn fast, and they were the biggest pain in the ass of the demon Tria’s arsenal. It looked as if Adras, Ava and their warriors had that one covered. Hippeus in half-warhorse form fought and reared. Brown and black flanks glistened as they struck at the snapping and slithering creature.
Just as Gregoire was about to move toward the city, the beast struck dangerously close to Ava. He teleported in and quickly cut off its tail. The intended distraction worked well. When it shot in his direction, Adras sent the final slice through the beast’s neck, severing its head. He nodded tightly to Gregoire.
Gregoire was able to telepath the short distance, “Alyssa is safe and protected.”
Adras’ shoulders relaxed with another quick nod. Gregoire knew his friend worried for his daughter. Alyssa was their only child, and Adras adored her. He blew out a frustrated breath.
The long barrier of earth rising up behind the mated pair seemed to be slowing the flow of beasts toward the city. He needed to get up there. With little thought, he cut down another hellhound, its head joining the rest of the carnage littering the ground.
He looked around. The warriors were fighting beasts everywhere, but no one seemed to be outnumbered. He needed to get into the city and help make sure the inhabitants were safe. It consisted of a predominately Mageia population, who were fairly adept in protecting themselves in normal situations, but they were mortal and easily picked off by hell beasts. He hoped they’d had the sense to get inside when the alarms sounded.
Teleporting up to the city’s breach, he saw Sacha and Bastian porting in and around the horde that was attempting to enter the city. The two Kairos Guardians were taking heads gracefully with their curved blades. Gregoire dove in and killed an ophiotaurus, severing both its horned, bull head and serpent tail. He had dodged and ported until the beast joined Sacha and Bastian’s kills. Adrenaline surged inside him, and his muscles flexed as he fought. He saw Sander fighting close by, just a little below the two Guardians trying to clear the breached area. Flames shot from the beasts toward his brother. The crazy fucker’s laughter boomed as he took the flames into himself and spewed his own dangerously scorching ability back, easily incinerating the beasts. Screeches of dying creatures filled the air. Sander made fast work of several of the hell creatures before giving a nod to Gregoire that he, Sacha and Bastian had the area covered. The only time that male was happy was in a fight or when tormenting his brothers with challenges and bets.
Gregoire downed a couple more of the beasts to get through the hole in the city’s shielding, which was a good eight feet in width. Easily big enough for the larger animals to navigate. His strength and sharp blade made it easy to cut down the threat.
His frustration was biting, joining the burning of his flesh from the tainted blood. He was happy for the violence he was unleashing. It settled his cock, some. He had been so close to claiming her. He needed to make quick work of his duty and get back to the damn island.
He felt rage burning inside as he imagined her lips surrounding another male’s cock. Red edged his sight as he cut down beast after beast. He didn’t care that he was covered in the creatures’ blood. His mind kept picturing those pouty lips, her big breasts out as she knelt in front of a faceless male. He roared in outrage, cutting down every beast in sight. She’d known she was his, but instead of finding him, she had gone straight to lose her fucking virginity. Went to give another male her sweet untried cunt. He issued a battle cry of old as he surged up and around another fucking ophiotaurus. Those lips were his. That fucking tongue was his. If another male had slid inside her pussy, taken her innocence, he would find and kill him. Her pleasure belonged to him.
He swiped a hand over his face. What the fuck was happening to him? He’d never felt so out of control in his life. He took several deep breaths to calm his beast, and to stop the ringing in his ears. He put away the dangerous thoughts and focused on the fight.
He looked into the cobbled streets and found Uri and Alex fighting side by side as they beheaded more creatures running amuck in the city streets. A big grin painted Alex’s features. Her long dark hair was caught in a ponytail that swung as she moved through the beasts. She looked to be enjoying herself, and she made a damn good warrior. Her antics were obviously not as endearing to Uri, who was taking care of her leavings with a tense jaw and shaking head. Gregoire ported further into the town.
Mageias were trying to fight the creatures, but they were causing more damage instead. Using their limited elemental abilities was only angering the creatures, making them lash out at the buildings that the Mageias were fighting from. He blew out an annoyed breath. He just wished they would stop, but, damn, he had to give them some credit for fighting for what was theirs. At least he didn’t see any of the damn mortals on the streets. They seemed to have all gone indoors and were using upsta
irs windows to forge their fight. The blaring alarms had done their job.
Gregoire watched as P flew above, midnight wings extended and flapping as the Guardian glided in the air above the city. He wore leather fighting pants, but his upper torso was bare except for his weapons harness. There appeared to be little more than twenty feet between him and the faint blue of the domed spell still holding above the city. At least the breach was relatively small and at the ground. If the dome had failed, hell dragons would have swarmed into the breach and made a mess.
He found Brianne further inside the city as he cut through more beasts. Her titian hair was held back in a braid. Her brown and red wings fanned out behind her. She made deep swoops between buildings, where he saw smoke billowing. She was likely using her ability with air, dousing flames that had been started by the invading creatures. He caught sight of her diving into an alley to his side. She gracefully dodged a snake tail and lopped off the horned head of an ophiotaurus before issuing a triumphant battle cry and flying in the opposite direction.
He dispatched a few more hellhounds on his way to the back of the city, but it seemed the horde was thinning.
How is the fight in the city? We are almost wrapped up out here, Drake sent into the Guardian link.
Still cleaning up. If the Mageias would stop “helping,” that would be great, P announced with a bite of annoyance tinging his words.
No fucking kidding. I’ve had to tell countless mortals they need to stay inside. Conn’s tone said it all.
Bastian and Sacha will go in and help clear the city while the warriors, Sander and I work on the breach.
Heading in now, Sacha sent.
Gregoire dodged a venomous bite from another ophiotaurus as the beast hunched its head low and attempted to gore him. He ported away, just missing the horns as well as the bite of the snake that made up the creature’s tail. He landed a clean slice to the tail. The animal roared, its front hooves just missing him as it leapt in pain and rage; bucking, it spewed flame onto the nearest dwelling. A Mageia sent a ball of flame into the beast from the second story of the building. The Mageia was an old male and whooped when his flame found the creature’s flank. The animal reared up in fury, and Gregoire dodged before making a sharp cut to its head. It fell in a heap next to the creature’s body. He heard the excited yells from the aging mortal as Gregoire continued down the road to another hound which he quickly dispatched.
Brianne, can you come douse a flame? he asked, sending her a visual of the old Mageia’s home.
On my way.
He worked his way through more beasts until he met Conn and Dorian fighting a couple of tsouximo. The scorpion-like creatures were huge pains in the ass, courtesy of the Tria. Their armor was fucking tough. It generally took more than a few swipes of a good sharp blade to get through, all the while avoiding the lightning-quick stinger and thick, snapping claws.
Dorian and Conn were making quick work of their opponents, porting in and around the creatures without getting in each other’s way. It was a kind of dance that only warriors who’d fought together for centuries managed. They each landed lash after lash with their long swords, hitting in exactly the same spot with each swipe of their blades.
Dorian’s blue-tipped blond hair was wet. He had likely come directly from the sea. He was in leather fighting pants that hung low but he hadn’t bothered with a shirt, just threw a harness on for his sword. In his wilder years before Cyril captured him, Dorian had fought in the rings, battling other Immortals for sport almost nightly after patrolling.
Dorian had just made another swift cut through the creature’s armor when a young male Mageia came barreling around the corner. He was no more than a decade old and held a blade in his small hands. A hellhound pack bounded around the corner right behind the child. Gregoire ported over and began dispatching the hounds at the child’s back while Dorian lunged for the boy. The sharp, deadly point of the stinger came down with lightning-quick speed. Dorian grabbed the child no more than a second before it would have pierced the kid’s skin, killing him instantly. A door to one of the townhomes opened, and Dorian practically tossed the boy inside. Gregoire heard the relieved shouts of the Mageias in their second-floor windows.
Dorian quickly jumped back in to finish off his prey before moving to take care of another ophiotaurus as it bounded around another corner to join the fray. Conn finished with his creature, and they all stood for a moment. The three of them were covered in nasty tainted hell beast blood. Conn was in his usual flannel and jeans. His brother Guardian hadn’t even taken time to don leathers. His amber eyes were glowing with the rush of the fight. Dorian looked just as wild eyed, and Gregoire felt the same. Sulfur stench clung to the air, and his skin stung. It was an irritating effect of demon-tainted blood. Only mildly annoying to a Guardian, but that would not be the case for the mortals. For them it could be deadly.
Brianne was in flight over the three of them, searching the streets from her higher vantage point and then communicating through the link. P, everything clear on your side? It looks like everything is okay over here.
P answered, Bastian called dibs on the last tsouximo. I’m taking one final sweep now. There will be a fucking mess to clean up, but no flames that I can see.
The breach was a pain in the ass. We are cinching shit up now. I want to know how this happened. Uri get with Adras’ people. Drake’s voice echoed his anger. There was power even in his mental voice. Heads would roll for this. Sirena, how many casualties?
Three that I’ve confirmed. A dozen are in bad shape, and I’m working with some of the locals to get them taken care of. She was also incensed.
Shouts from above indicated that the streets were cleared. There would be major cleanup to contend with before he could get to his damn mate. Tynan had better be looking after her and keeping his fucking hands to himself. He hated the idea of killing an old friend.
Chapter 9
Cyril’s Compound, Tetartos Realm
Cyril paced the confines of his new suite, awaiting news. His servants had cleaned and arranged everything for him, but it would never feel the same. He’d had the other facility for decades. He fumed that his father’s bed had been reduced to rubble because of the Guardians’ attack. It had been his most prized possession. The fools had taken that along with his test subjects. Just the thought of it all made him seethe. His muscles twitched with the strength of his anger.
It was impossible to get close to the bastards. If he was able to, he would make them pay personally, but the Guardians kept their dealings in Tetartos with only a select group checked personally by the Aletheia Guardian, Urian. They were too damn cautious.
It grated that they’d yet to let their guard down in the centuries since he had managed to capture Dorian. The Guardian had only been in his grasp for minutes before the others had come for him. Cyril had underestimated their skills in tracking. He had assumed that Dorian’s unconsciousness would render their tracking abilities useless. It was an assumption that Cyril constantly castigated himself for.
Two of his facilities were now in rubble because of them.
He looked around. His new cave system had been developed by just a select few of his trusted warriors, centuries ago. It had done little but sit since its creation, meant as a back-up only. Cyril had always kept his warriors and labs close. The only location that functioned separately was his eastern facility. There were things done there that he kept the majority of his people unaware of.
He was fortunate the lab tech that Drake had taken in the attack the week before had no knowledge of his current location or the other facility. He continued to pace, looking with anger at the new space. The more he considered the attack, the more concerned it made him. Not only had the Guardians found his facility after centuries, but they’d learned of his contact on Earth and had gone after her. It reeked of a mole. His most trusted warriors maintained that everything was secure. They had taken the blood memories of all his current staff and uncovered no traitor
among them.
He had angrily instructed Elizabeth to use her ability to connect mentally with Cynthia, the Mageia contact. He had the bitch inform Cynthia to go into hiding amongst the billions of humans on Earth until he was able to sort out how the Guardians had found them both. Elizabeth, the rabid Aletheia who had been put under the control of his second, was subdued of late. Her quiet made him wonder what she was up to, or was it that Kane really was keeping her under tight wraps. If he didn’t need her ability to contact the other Realms, he would have just killed her, but that was not possible. She had contacted and made it clear to Cynthia that she needed to hide and not risk being taken by the Guardians.
Cynthia had never been privy to much information, but she did know that he wanted to acquire Subject Nine’s family, and he would rather that information not get into the Guardians’ hands. She had not acquired them before the attack, so their abduction and testing would have to wait.
He needed to get back to his lab. There was something he was missing. He ground his teeth against the anger caused by losing Subject Nine to those bastards. At least he had secured all of his samples before the compound had been destroyed. At some point the Guardians would have to release the females into the Covens on Tetartos; he would get her back when that happened.
Where was his fucking second? He wanted answers before he went to the lab. He had that irritating itch on the back of his neck he’d gotten every time he prepared to leave his suite. Paranoia was an infuriating emotion. He needed to leave his damn room to get to the lab, but every time he walked the tunnels, he found himself scrutinizing everyone that passed. He refused to let his rage and suspicion eat away at his sanity.
He continued pacing, impatiently awaiting Kane’s arrival. He refused to think about the itch.