47. Kami

47

Kami

I 'm as close to Malkar as I can possibly get. I'm better than his shadow.

"A little breathing room?" He shoves a demon back. When the demon attacks again, he puts a fist through the guy's throat .

Totally gross, but preferrable to the demon flying off with me.

I still remember Gorl's fist in my hair as he dragged me away. I felt so powerless, so scared I could do nothing but cry.

Until Crash saved me.

I'm still not sure why. He's been such a dick since I woke up. Malkar too, oddly enough.

Yet I'd still rather be with them than anywhere else.

The chaos all around us is scary, but I'm becoming weirdly numb to all the blood and guts saturating the field.

Unfortunately, the energy radiating from so much death continues to feed Beyrthnel. I can feel the god's power growing, every killing laid at his feet as a given sacrifice.

Yet he's not the only one benefiting.

I have a bad feeling I'm changing deep inside. Rage and thirst continue to intertwine, until I imagine that I'm drinking down all the souls from the battlefield, filtering them of their importance before shedding their useless skins to the war god.

As if I had the power to do any such thing.

I wish I could be stronger, but honestly, except for turning trees into carnivores or accidentally creating stick fingers to stab people, I'm just a wacky dryad.

Not like Crash, who seems to delight in ending everyone around him. Or Malkar, who so casually takes any life he feels offends him.

Or Ries—now our enemy?—who is laughing as he fights alongside his new friends. He's wielding some kind of blades on the back of his hands as he slices into people indiscriminately.

He spots me and winks, as if it's no big deal he's turned against us.

Against me.

I glare at him, annoyed that only seems to make his smile wider.

"Get her," one of the ghouls near him shouts.

"You get her. I'm busy." Ries punches one fae while another lashes out with a kick.

Large hands yank me off my feet and over someone's shoulder.

Hell, not again.

I struggle to go free while a different monster grabs me from my captor and pulls me in a different direction.

"Malkar, help!"

The shifter gripping my wrist grins at me and squeezes.

I feel bones crunch and cry out, the pain overwhelming.

Then someone else catches me by the arm, and the shifter and this new threat play tug of war until I feel like I'm going to be pulled apart.

I don't like this. Not any of it.

The fear is terrible, because it's tunneling directly into the heart of me I normally keep buried. A lust for death, a finger of need that starts to creep out as it latches on to the nearest danger.

Never, ever, consume without consent.

I hear that voice whenever the bad part of me comes to the surface. Some man from my past is constantly lecturing me on how to hide from the dark side of our nature.

I'm always successful in avoiding a grand taking. But I've never been around so much death and destruction before. It's like that sleeping part of me has woken up.

And I'm afraid it will never rest again.

Before I can make a fatal mistake and reveal myself to be a necromancer in truth, Ries barrels toward me and steals me from the monsters playing tug-of-war.

He lifts me in his arms as he darts past those trying to take me, tucking me over his shoulder.

"I swear to the sea, you are nothing but a danger-magnet."

"Let me down," I try to say, my words garbled against his back while I try to ignore my throbbing arm…that I can feel knitting, the branches of bone inside me fusing, regrowing.

I'm scared. I don't get hurt all that often, as I'm smart enough to avoid these situations.

Or at least, I was. But I don't regenerate. I hide in trees. And yeah, that one time I turned into a tree.

Am I even fae anymore? Or am I just a monster like all the rest around us?

"Hold on," Ries orders and shifts me in front of him, now carrying me against his chest.

We're threading the fists and daggers aimed at us from all around. Ries takes a few wounds but does nothing but grunt or swear in reaction. Nothing slows him down as he takes me to the edge of the chaos.

He sets me down behind a pile of dying fae in Asrai red and white, slowly bleeding out. "There. Don't move."

Then he leaves, confusing me even more because I thought he was one of the Asrai guys now.

But at least I'm somewhat safe, hunkered down while I watch everyone fighting in the center of the arena.

It's a real nightmare. Fae, monsters, and a few regulars are gutting each other with whatever they can find, from claws to bare hands to knives and jagged rock. I have no idea where half the stuff has come from.

The spectators are screaming with excitement, and I can feel a vibration underfoot, as if something massive is just waiting to explode from the earth.

Malkar and Crash don't look so amused anymore, battling against overwhelming odds.

Ries isn't working so hard, standing closer to his new allies.

The numbers have thinned…no. They should have thinned.

A glance around shows bodies everywhere, yet there are way too many more combatants. Where are they coming from?

Too many are still standing, still battling.

Then I see a portal near a small hill, where tributes pour through and shout for House Ervan.

Rilitar's people.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

A few from Lancer are making their way toward Malkar's back while he battles three in front of him. He's not looking so tidy anymore, his clothing torn, his hair mussed, and a few odd bruises have appeared on his arms. He wipes his mouth free from the stain of black blood shining with a blue-green iridescence. An obvious clue that he's much more than a demon .

Crash is covered in green and red blood, so it's not all his. But he too looks worn, the shine of battle madness wearing off as exhaustion sets in.

Everyone seems to be against us, not even fighting with each other anymore. It's not fair.

Ries, who shoots me a grin, knows it. "Hey Crash," he calls out. "Guess what? You suck." He and the others laugh. "I can't believe you and the white-haired freak thought you could win. You're nothing but a loser who can't do much more than get angry."

Crash's eyes narrow, the gold turning a brilliant reddish-orange.

Ries continues. "Hell, you couldn't even hold onto Godtown. Firefly?" Everyone laughs at the name, and Crash's face reddens. "You're embarrassing."

The dicks from Asrai and Godtown add on, as do the new fae from Lancer.

Crash is beyond mad. I see that familiar fury on his face.

If it precedes what happened last time, everyone is going to fry.

I duck down and make myself as small as possible.

Crash bellows. Malkar swears.

Then there's a huge burst of heat and bodies go flying.

Including my own.