Kyn 3: Feral Page 9

  It was an attack that never came. The thunder of hooves surrounded them as suddenly the small path was crowded with horses. And, more importantly from Feral and Tessa’s point of view, those horses came full equipped with some heavily armed knights.

  The whistle of arrows cut through the air, followed by sickening thuds as the buried themselves in the Ogre’s flesh. It screamed, a mingled sound of pain and fury as it swatted at the arrows that made it resemble a grotesque hedgehog. Screams that were silenced when one of the knights took aim with a heavy crossbow, death in his eyes. The arrow sprouted from the Ogre’s left eye. It blinked slowly with the other. Once, twice. Then it slowly toppled backwards.

  Feral looked around at the group of mounted knights surrounding them. “Well. At least it isn’t Pixies again.”

  Chapter Eight

  The Fae Court was like, well something out of a fairy tale. Feral found himself wide eyed at the splendour as the little group were herded along the corridors towards the hall of the Lady their rescuing knights served.

  Tessa noticed his amazement as he stared around, silently astounded at the beauty of the place and doing his best to hide it. Anyone would think he was some kind of country bumpkin the way he was going on, not a veteran warrior of the Kyn Court who'd attended more court functions and balls than most humans had had hot dinners.

  “It's mainly all glamour,” She whispered as they were ushered into a hall to wait. “The court itself is a sort of Fae. A proto-Fae I think they call it, what we would have been before we became us so to speak,” she murmured, speaking of herself as Fae for the first time to him. “It's alive,” she carried on. “Changes its look when it pleases, which can be a little disconcerting.”

  “You ain't kidding,” He murmured back, his hand dropping to the small of her back as they walked through the door, a protective gesture he didn't register consciously. She'd been so brave against the Ogre, even if he did want to berate her soundly for putting herself in danger like that. His heart had almost stopped when she shot in front of him with that stick, attacking the creature like some sort if Pixie Amazon.

  The knights retreated; a silent bunch if ever Feral had seen one, leaving just the two stationed either side of the huge doors. Feral eyed them with sympathy. He'd stood guard often enough to know it was as boring as hell. Their set positions and bored expressions told him that this wasn't their first time standing by that door and, undoubtedly, it wouldn't be their last.

  “You shouldn't have attacked that Ogre,” He turned his attention back to Tessa.

  Settled on one of the low couches that lined the long walls she was holding Spud up underneath his armpits so he could stand in her lap. Which he was loving, bouncing enthusiastically and grinning at everything. Feral grinned back, unable to resist such whole hearted enthusiasm and held out his finger for the baby to grasp.

  Tessa shrugged, busying herself with amusing the baby. Feral hooked his finger under her chin and turned her face so he could look into her eyes.

  “You could have been hurt Tessa, even killed,” His bad-ass attitude slipped a little under his concern. “I was terrified I'd lose you...”

  Now that was love, or at least what it was supposed to look like. Talven swept in through the double doors the other side of the hall, pausing a little as he took in the scene before him. The guy, the Vampire Warrior, was crouched, all his attention on the woman, a half breed Pixie. Talven had already noticed she was pretty, not his usual sort but there was just something... vital about her. But it was the protective set of the Vampire's body, the gentleness of his touch as he made her look at him that caught Talven's attention.

  A pang of longing speared him, lanced through his heart with a bitterness that surprised him. That was how it should be between a man and a woman, the sort of relationship he wanted and a mate who looked at him as though he was everything. Not the barely concealed contempt and ridicule he currently got from the woman fate had cursed him to be bonded to.

  “The Princess will see you now,” he announced as he strode over, his hand holding the sword still on his thigh. Ilia didn't like the clinch and chink of armour, or weaponry. Said it gave her a headache. Bloody stupid woman, what did she expect when she insisted on her knights being battle ready all the time?

  Feral rose and turned in an economy and speed of movement that had Talven mentally taking stock. When he got these three into Ilia's chambers the shit was going to hit the fan and in a big way. He counted on having enough knights to take down this guy but looking at him now... the Vampire was big. Big and with that manner, a look in his eyes that said 'Wanna mess with me? Just try it buddy, it'll be the last thing you'll do'.

  He hid his concern well, years of practise serving Ilia. He needed more man-power.

  Seriously needed more man-power. He knew what Ilia intended to do... well, no, he had a good idea what she intended to do.

  She thought he was stupid, called him that in front of him on many occasions. But he watched, he listened. He'd have to be an idiot not to have figured it out by now. And when this Vampire did, there was going to be all kinds of hell to pay, mostly violent and all over the place. Because he seriously doubted either one of them, the Pixie or the Vamp were going to be happy about his Princess taking blood from a baby. It turned even his stomach.

  Grimly he stopped thinking about it, locking parts of his mind off from what was happening. His own coping mechanism. The trouble was, it was getting harder and harder to do and each time he felt sick. Like a little piece of his soul died each time.

  Disgusted with himself, he swept his arm wide in a courtly gesture towards the door.

  “If you’ll just follow me?” he invited and forced himself to smile.

  Feral held his hand out to Tessa, to help her to her feet.

  “Come on Tess, we wouldn’t want to keep the nice Captain’s boss waiting, would we?” he said as he studied the tall Fae Knight directly. Feral rarely did circumspect; it just wasn’t in his nature. He found a direct look was far easier, and it tended to rattle people more easily. Which shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. Most people got a little edgy when glared at by over two hundred pounds of mean attitude, sort of like the Kyn equivalent of a Pitt-Bull.

  He was probably imagining it but, just for a moment there he thought he’d seen a flicker of something in the Fae Knight’s eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like regret and perhaps sorrow. Maybe even disgust. But why? What did a Fae Knight have to be disgusted about?

  His face set as they followed Talven out of the room, anger coiling low in his chest. It was because he was a Vampire. Had to be. Bloody Fae and their species-ism, like they were so great anyway! No doubt didn’t like a filthy Kyn hanging around the place and lowering the tone. Well, buggar them!

  His temper continued to simmer as they followed the Fae down the corridor. In fact he was surprised the guy’s armour didn’t superheat under his glare.

  “Hey, the wind’ll change and you’ll get stuck like that,” Tessa smiled at him, indicating his stormy expression. “You should be pleased! We did it! We got here, it’s all going to be ok,” she told him, a tired smile curving her lips.

  “Yeah,” He smoothed a hand down her back absently, as much to reassure himself as her. Perhaps more to reassure himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it in as many words.

  They had done it; evaded those damn Pixies, made it through the Night Plains, avoided getting killed or their souls sucked out or a multitude of other nasty fates. It had been a close call there with the Ogre. Closer than Feral wanted to admit. The near defeat didn’t sit well with his Warrior’s pride.

  One thing was for sure, he was going to be hitting the gym and ramping up the training when he got back to the Compound. And he was definitely going to start packing heat, something big enough to take down even larger nasties like Fae monsters.

  He sighed as her words sank in, a sigh of relief. She was right, he could relax now.

  They just needed to get the kid
back to his parents, or this noble lady they were supposed to see next and then they could get gone. Perhaps he could persuade Tessa to come back to his place, and they could finish what they’d started in that bathroom. He looped his arm over her shoulders protectively and slid her a small smile.

  A smile that stopped Tessa in her tracks, his eyes full of warmth and a sensual promise that took her breath away. Her exhaustion disappeared, body coming alive as his thumb stroked over the front of her shoulder. Even fully clothed her skin tingled, a trail of fire in the wake of his thumb.

  She managed to smile back, not quite sure what he could see in her at the moment.

  Her clothes were rumpled and torn in places and she was splattered with black Ogre blood.

  But something the smile in his eyes, the way he touched her, made her feel like the sexiest woman alive. Like the only woman alive for him.

  A shiver ran up her spine as they approached yet another doorway, absently noting they’d moved further into the Court, into the private wings. Talven’s mistress must be someone important to have a suite here. Which was good, she decided. The higher up the tree this lady was, the more chance they had of getting this sorted quickly.

  “Nearly home little man, you’ll see your mommy soon” she murmured in a reassuring voice, jiggling the little boy in her arms, much to his delight. He giggled as he patted her face with gentle hands. Tessa smiled, but it was a smile with a sadder edge now. He was a delightful little boy and she’d miss him, a pang of loss already forming deep in her chest.

  Perhaps she could ask his parents, whoever they were, if she could visit when this was all over.

  The doors ahead of them swung open soundlessly, revealing yet another torch-lit hall.

  Relief and a sense of triumph filled Tessa anew as they walked in. Despite her words to Feral, she hadn’t really believed it until they were here, about to meet this Noble-lady.

  They had done it, actually made a difference! It was like something out of a Hollywood blockbuster. Beat the bad guys, save the world (or the baby in this case) and the good guy always got the girl.

  She slid a covert glance sideways at Feral under her lashes. Or the girl got the guy, which she very much intended to be doing once they both showered to get this Ogre blood off. It bloody reeked, the stench rising from the black stains on her clothes and making her wrinkle her nose. She might not even wait until he was finished though. She might just join him in the shower and jump his bones then and there.

  Lost in her own increasingly erotic daydreams, it took Tessa a moment to realise something was wrong. Feral’s expression was tight, the look in his eyes one she recognised despite their brief acquaintance. It was the one he wore when the shit was about to hit the fan in a big way.

  “Feral?” she murmured as she edged closer.

  He was already dropping his arm as she spoke, freeing his hands up to go for his blades. As soon as they’d stepped through the door it had started to swing shut behind them, trapping them inside.

  That had been when he’d felt it. The wrongness. Something that shouldn’t have been here in the light and beauty of a place like this. Something that belonged in the darkness of the shadows. Something that was hiding itself, like rot buried in an apple’s core.

  His senses on high alert he scanned the room, eyes flitting from Fae to Fae, trying to isolate the feeling. He might not be able to see through Fae glamour as he’d previously thought but there were some things you just couldn’t hide from a vampire. And the need for blood was one of them.

  There was another blood drinker in the room.

  His eyes narrowed as he assessed the feeling. No, it wasn’t quite the same sort of feeling he got when he was around other Kyn. That was more a pleasant buzz against his mind. An awareness. This was harsher, more abrasive. Not awareness, a warning.

  Like the feeling he got around the Rogue, the extra unpleasant edge added by their taste for not just blood but flesh as well. His face paled a little as he made the connections.

  It wasn’t just the Rogue that liked blood and flesh… so did Demonkind.

  “Well, well. I suppose I should thank you for bringing the brat to me. Finally,” A female voice broke the silence of the hall. A voice that should have been beautiful if not for the bitter note corrupting it. “However, you’ve caused me a lot of trouble so I don’t think I will,”

  The speaker rounded one of the Grecian columns flanking the walls, her eyes fixed on the three of them with venom. She was tiny, a slender wisp of a woman, with an almost childlike aura about her. But the expression on her face was very adult. Bitterness, lust, arrogance all combined into a look that made Tessa just uncomfortable looking at her … she sucked in a breath, recognising one of the older Fae. Ilia, third of the fabled seven sisters, the seven princesses of the Fae.

  “God no,” The blood drained from her face as Pixies emerged from the columns as well, fanning out behind their mistress.

  “It was you all along,” Her heart lurched. This shouldn’t be happening, not here! This was the Court, they were supposed to be safe here!

  “Well, looks like the Pixie bitch finally worked it out! Not the sharpest tool in the box are you love?” Ilia commented scornfully. “Ok, I’m bored with this. Guards, seize them!”

  Tessa screamed as the Fae surrounded them one side, swords drawn, and the Pixies the other, their weapons of choice various switchblades and daggers, all glinting menacingly in the flickering torch-light. She moved closer to Feral, instinctively looking to him for protection, even though she knew they were sunk. A sense of disgust filled her. She was supposed to be a modern woman, yet the first sign of trouble and she was relying on a guy to look out for her. Her spine straightened, a hard light entering her eyes as she shifted Spud more securely onto her hip. They were done for, there was no getting out of this one. Not just the two of them against dozens.

  But that didn’t mean she was going make it easy for them. She should have held onto that baseball bat.

  “I could learn to hate Fae just as much as Pixies at this rate,” Feral growled, his blades on his hands in the blink of an eye. He moved, easily sliding into a guard position as he eyed the grim faced men surrounding them.

  “Ok, which one of you wants to bleed out on the floor first?” he snarled, “More than enough for everyone so if you’d like to form an orderly queue, Doctor Pain will begin morning surgery,” He lifted his hand and beckoned to the nearest Pixie. A ‘bring it on’

  gesture.

  The Pixie spluttered with rage, his face flushed as he raised his arm and charged.

  Feral didn’t move, waiting until he could practically smell the guy's breath. When he did move it was in an explosion of speed. He dropped to the floor and swept a hard leg around at his opponents. The Pixie hit the ground hard, all the wind knocked out of him. He never got the chance to regain his feet, Feral rolled and using his body as a ramp to launch himself to his feet. His bladed knuckles buried themselves nonchalantly in the Pixie’s throat, shredding his windpipe beyond repair.

  Then the fight was on in earnest, Feral spinned and whirled like a prima ballerina on crack as he fought off several opponents at once. There was nothing like several someone’s seriously trying to put an end to your life to sharpen your senses and reaction times and Feral had trained on the best circuit there was. Fighting the Rogue a slow Kyn Warrior was a dead one. One as old as Feral was had to be fast, there was no other way around it. He dodged and weaved with all that speed, using his sheer size and the amount of damage he could suck up to his advantage.

  He fought with everything, not just the blades on his hands but with his whole body. A rolling, moving, whirling dervish leaving violence in his wake; elbows rammed into throats hard enough to crush larynx’s, feet slammed into kneecaps hard enough to shatter them or used to stomp on feet, fingers or any other body part unfortunate enough to end up on the floor or within range.

  But quite possibly the worse weapon he had were his fangs. Fully extended i
n his rage they were a fearsome sight. Razor sharp and dripping with blood as he took chunks out of anything that came close enough.

  Tessa fought like a madwoman not to get separated from either Feral or the baby, lashing out with her free hand and feet as two knights made out to grab her. She became a wildcat, slippery as an eel, heart pounding as she used all the self defence moves she could remember from the short course she’d done at work a couple of years ago.

  Shifting her weight she drove an elbow into the ribs of the one behind her, stomping heavily on his foot at the same time. A satisfying ‘oomph’ sounded behind her. Mail might look pretty and be effective against sharp pointy things but when it came to determination and an expertly wielded elbow, it didn’t stop the wearer getting winded.

  Without thinking about it she reached for the hand at her throat, slender fingers dancing over the thick ones digging painfully into her flesh. Wincing she grasped the little finger firmly and ripped it up, back and away from the others in a quick movement.

  It cracked, a sharp sound like a twig breaking underfoot echoing in her ears. A sound swiftly drowned out by the pain-filled bellow from behind as he snatched his hands away from her, cradling the damaged one. Wasting no time Tess spun around, snapping her knee up sharply to connect heavily with his groin. She might not be a martial arts expert but there were some moves a woman knew instinctively. She smiled in satisfaction as he crumpled to the floor in his own world of pain.

  Her triumph didn’t last long. Something sharp and cold kissed the side of her neck gently. She froze. Despite never having felt the sensation before, she knew that was the business edge of a sword against her delicate skin.

  Things went from bad to worse from that point on. Spud was ripped from her arms, crying as he reached out for her, terrified by the rough treatment he was being subjected to.