CHAPTER 11

Nika

Live wires twistedand crawled over my limbs, coiling and webbing across every expanse of my body, bringing life to a long-dormant power inside of me. A gasping breath left my mouth, and my head whipped back, my muscles impossibly taut throughout the attack.

Powerful, lung-seizing sensation swiftly battered my body, pulse after pulse, liquid heat flooding from my toes up to my chest. Pink magic flickered, sparked, and exploded in the room around us, and Silas took a step back. Our eyes connected, and I saw the fear in his eyes. He tried to smother it, but even for a powerful mercenary, what was happening put him on edge.

I caught sight of Silas's white-knuckle grip on the sword he held, ready for anything. The muscles in his body were flexed and rigid, drawn tight like a bowstring, and the furious gold of his eyes stayed with me. Stayed on the vibrant glow of the now white-blue amulet around my neck.

Another shuddering throb took me, escaping my mouth in slithering wisps of white fog which floated like tiny souls before escaping towards the ceiling, then disappearing. Then the powerful hold on my body was gone and everything stopped. Silence fell upon us, our haggard breaths the only sound in the room.

Legs buckling, I nearly hit the floor. Silas came quickly to my rescue, capturing me under the knees and lifting me into his arms. His concerned eyes skated over my body, checking for injuries that weren't there, sure I'd been attacked. An echoing pulse resounded like an omen in my chest for a second before I expelled the feeling with another quivering breath, still not entirely sure what just happened to me.

"Are you alright, love?"

I slow-blinked at the man, mouth unresponsive and head still filled with cotton. Words were gone, thoughts impossible, comprehension out of reach. I forgot who I was for a second and shook like a leaf inside Silas's hold. The Fae's jaw clenched, and then he walked over to a time-worn sofa before taking a seat. Dust kicked up in a spiteful cloud around us, tickling my nose. It was torture not to be able to move or scratch it, so I tried unsuccessfully to dispel it with a wriggle of my nose.

Catching on like the swift brute he was, Silas snickered in a way far too cute for a killer and wiped the offending dust from my nose and face, his fingers lingering over my cheeks and lips. The touch was unexpectedly tender and not something I'd expect from a dangerous mercenary. Still, even though my head was clearing, I couldn't move anything. Barely made expressions at all.

The mercenary's hands were painfully gentle as he brushed hair away from my eyes and quickly inspected my body again, checking for injuries like he couldn't trust his first assessment. When it appeared he was satisfied that I was not, in fact, hurt anywhere, he let loose a resigned sigh and his liquid eyes found mine again.

"Right. We can't stay here. If you understand, Nika, blink twice." I blinked twice, and his lips tilted into a snarky grin. "Good. Whatever that was, it likely alerted every bloody nefarious type in the area, so I'm going to have to run. Blink for me again if you understand."

I tried my voice, but nothing came, so I blinked.

Silas might be an annoying asshole, but I knew when to be grateful. If he'd left earlier like I told him to, chances were, I would've been found and killed. Neither of us expected this, and it was obvious in the man's gaze he was working hard to figure out an escape.

The mercenary huffed a pleased breath, probably relieved I was compliant—for once—and he got back to his feet with me still in his arms, held snugly against his obnoxiously large chest.

I'd avoided acknowledging how strongly shaped this Fae was because it only dredged up the previous feelings of lust, but against it with no other choice but to feel how incredible the muscle definition was nearly sent my buzzing thoughts into a shameless spiral of desire.

Fuck. Stop ogling the man, Nika. You're at the mercy of this huge oaf's whims, and the last thing you need is to be distracted.

The situation wasn't ideal, but I was glad Silas didn't use it as an opportunity to gloat.

"Can't say I mind coming to your rescue like this, if I'm honest"—I spoke too soon—"but I much prefer your normal feisty glare and tongue-lashing personality. Docile princess doesn't really suit you, love."

I vowed in that silent moment to beat him once my limbs moved again. Unfortunately, it mostly bothered me how much I wanted to hate him but couldn't. How much I wanted to say his obnoxious proclamations didn't make my heart race and pulse thud, but they did. How much I wanted to argue it didn't feel good being in his arms like this, but it did.

My muscles twitched, and I sucked in a greedy breath, hating myself for feeling so much I shouldn't. But his abrupt run out of the house hit my body with punishing force and ended my internal grumblings.

"Wankers are fast," Silas grumbled, blue magic whipping out of him and cutting a wide circle around us.

My fingers twitched, and my thoughts finally started to come together. I somehow turned my head, catching sight of a street painted in flickering light. The tug of others nearby I sensed without using magic, and in a daze, I searched for them.

A pulse grew in my belly as several silhouettes broke away from the darkness, shapes outlined by Silas's sparkling cerulean magic. Howling winds thrashed their bodies, throwing their long cloaks into chaos around them, and the streetlight finally showed them for what they were.

Dark Fae.

A group of them.

Shit.

I pushed on Silas's chest. He instantly understood what I wanted and helped me get to my feet. The first one came at us, narrowly missing me with his blade. But the mercenary's sword was faster. He sliced through the Fae's arm, cutting it clean off, and I stumbled back into his chest when Silas yanked me close. He stabbed forward, sinking his blade directly into our enemy's throat. The Fae decked out in fighting clothes and weapons gurgled and spat blood, trying to smother the flow with his hands. Sparks of the dying Fae's grey magic burst and faded in the air around him, the fireworks of a Fae's life coming to an end. Then his knees hit the pavement, spilling blood like a fountain and succumbing to the final sleep of death.

The rest of the group stalled, unable to make the two of us out through Silas's blue magic which quickly formed a thick wall. But clearly, they hadn't expected one of them to fall so quickly.

Silas didn't waste time. He skillfully twirled the sword that had already killed one, spraying the asphalt with the Fae's blood. Blue magic slithered around the mercenary's body, his hair taking flight with the power igniting the air. His gold eyes turned a startling silver before he fitted a dark, identity-concealing mask over his face, its eerie molded features catching the stray moonlight. Then the mercenary covered his silver hair with the hood of his coat.

Silas became the image of death with his massive shape gleaming in nothing but moonlight. "Guess it's time to do what the lad paid me for, right, princess?"

When he looked down at me with the mask obstructing everything but those fiercely silver eyes, something sparked in the back of my head. Not fear, but a memory. But of what?

Leering at the group, the mercenary clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers. A loud crack rang out around us. Suddenly, four of our enemies were impaled by spikes of blue magic that came away from the wall he'd built. Each took the hit the same way as the last and slammed back-first into the asphalt, a chorus of pain-filled groans echoing out into the night.

My eyes jerked over to the man holding me, my limbs moving a little better now, and his mouth quirked up, shoulders shrugging. "What? Falling for me, princess?" my masked companion asked, his silver eyes somehow expressing his amusement.

"You wish—"

An eerie howl shredded the quiet, stealing my gaze, and the group of Dark Fae dispersed like flies on dung. The mercenary's eyes went razor sharp in an instant, narrowing on a spot ahead in the darkness before Silas took me by the hand and grabbed something from his pocket.

Gleaming red eyes broke away from the blanket of night. A terrifyingly large animal crept close to the floor, preparing to lunge, its snarling mouth dripping with saliva.

"Fucking Bear Claw," Silas growled in a voice filled with hatred and disgust. His blue magic crackled and popped in agitation, moving around him like an icy vortex, and the noise of it drowned out the angry growls of our enemy.

Sensing the danger like I could taste it in the air—and in a way, I could—I gripped my dagger, knowing the name immediately and realizing it wasn't a fight we could run from anymore.

Bear Claw swayed his salt-and-pepper fur-covered body from side to side, readying his lunge. On any other day, I'd find the sight fascinating. I'd never seen or fought a shapeshifter before, and I'd always wondered how closely they emulated the creatures whose forms they took.

It was said they connected with a spirit of a fallen creature, and it lived in their heads for as long as they shifted. Which would mean that Bear Claw had at least two voices in his head battling him for dominance. A hilarious thought I'd leave for another day to ponder.

If I hadn't known it already, I wouldn't suspect this wolf was a shapeshifter. It was all wolf. Nothing about it was remotely humanoid. Every movement, every growl, every look was all beast. It even smelled like a wolf.

Wet-dog-smell-tastic.

Silas's blue magic shot a deadly line over to the crouched shapeshifter, deploying the same spikes that hit the previous group of powerful Fae. With a quickness my eyes couldn't track, our enemy evaded the hit and disappeared from sight.

My eyes took a swift path around the area, sure the wolf couldn't be that quick with how large it was. But I didn't find Bear Claw anywhere. I didn't sense him at all. As if he'd disappeared into thin air, my magic couldn't locate him.

"Fuck this quick bastard," Silas complained, his sword flipping angrily in his hand before his newly silver turned eyes tracked back over his shoulder. "Stay close to me, princess. He's a crafty devil, and he'll attack when your guard is down. It looks like normal fur, but it's as strong as steel. Hit under the belly where its thinnest, or you won't do much damage."

Fur armor? That was a new one for me. I absently wondered if it'd still work if I skinned the bastard, or if he had to be alive to make it function. I was all about experimenting to see what worked.

A devilish smile spread across my lips and subsequently caught Silas's straying gaze. "What in Lilith's sultry circle of Hell are you thinking about over there, little bird? That's one evil grin on your face."

Cutting an irate glare at the asshole, my smile disappeared. "Just focus on not dying, mercenary. I'd rather not have your death on my conscience."

"Oh, princess, you do care about me," Silas cooed, haunting silver eyes never missing one bit of the world around him even as he poked fun. "Now I'm half tempted to let him hurt me a little so a certain stone-faced ice princess tends to my wounds."

It was evident Silas was trying to goad our enemy out of hiding by pretending to be distracted, and I played my part because the mercenary's tactic was sound. Silas was familiar with Bear Claw, had supposedly considered him a colleague at one time, so I trusted the Fae knew what worked on him.

"How about I cut out the middle man and just injure you myself," I warned, dagger aimed at his throat already.

Silas put his hands in the air after removing his mask, revealing the sneaky smile on his face. "It's a little scary when you say it with those serious eyes of yours. Doesn't sound like you're taking the piss, yeah?"

I was a little curious about the story behind the mask and if it did anything other than hide his identity, but I had a part to play. "Because I'm not," I added, sensing movement nearby.

With the look Silas gave me, he knew it was working. "Hurt me too good and you'll never get rid of me."

Each house along the street was quiet and devoid of life. Nothing stirred. The only sounds in my ears were the angry wind and the far-off noises of the city. For a second, I simply took in the feeling of the world around me, centering myself.

Fixing my stance, I studied the silver-eyed oaf. He still had a grip on his sword and mask but pretended to be surrendering to my blade. "Not if you're dead," I added in a deathly quiet voice, hyper-aware of every movement around me.

"Ah-ah." Silas deep voice expressed his boundless amusement, and had I not been playing a part, I'd find it obnoxious. No, strike that. I still found it obnoxious. "We've come full circle now, little bird. But have it your way. Hurt me or kill me. I'm yours."

Something tingled in my gut and slithered along my chest. It wasn't a sensation I recognized. It tugged, drifted, and slipped along my body, tickling the senses and stroking my power to life. Pink magic glowed before it sputtered out of existence.

Silas's eyes were a curious beam. When he looked like he might say something about it, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and a prickling sensation of unease spider-walked down my spine. Without understanding how, I knew something was coming. I pivoted sharply, catching the gleam of red, then ducked down into a practiced split just before the body of a wolf sailed over me.

Silas's magic reactively chased Bear Claw through the leap, but the wolf disappeared again, cloaked by darkness. The muscles all over Silas's body rippled with agitation, and his chest expanded with frustration before his silver eyes scanned the area around us and he put his mask back on, preparing to fight again.

The temperature dropped twenty degrees, plummeting in seconds. A sudden string of voices were in my head, whispering, their words unintelligible and distorted. The sensation from before was back, creeping over my arms and along my spine, warning something was coming.

As I jerked my eyes to the right and Silas jerked his to the left, a wolf came away from the darkness, its body visibly trembling with murderous rage. Time moved at a snail's pace as our enemy leapt across the space, powerful form taking a deadly arc straight for me.

Silas wouldn't be quick enough. He was turned the opposite direction, and I was too close to the direct path Bear Claw took to avoid the assault. I was going to be attacked, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.