5. A Warrior of Death

CHAPTER 5

A Warrior of Death

J elisette crept through the shadows behind Emery, following as he led her through dark streets and twisted mazes deep within the underground city once known as Vlarone. Rumored to have been built by the gods—or giants, no one really knew—the city within the mountain was now an empty ruin.

The once-thriving cavernous metropolis with its spiral levels and glowing clusters of mushrooms lighting the walls was as empty as a graveyard. Houses were destroyed by the passage of time. Roads were cracked. Paths went nowhere. Life no longer resided within this place of old.

The deeper they went into the mountain, the colder the air became. More than once, Jelisette rubbed her arms as a sensation of death crawled over her.

It was no surprise that their prey had chosen this as his hiding place.

Neither she nor Emery spoke as they prowled through the darkness, going deeper and deeper into the mountain. As they moved, her shadows thrummed in her veins, her fangs burned, and every sense was on edge. In front of her, Emery wore black fighting leathers. His hair was slicked back, and shadows wreathed his hands.

He was a warrior of death, and she was drawn to him unlike anyone else. When he'd told her about this job, she got the sense he was worried this might scare her off. Nope. If anything, this was just confirmation for Jelisette that whatever was pulling her to Emery was right. Good.

Ever since her Making, Jelisette had never minded death. Maybe it was because of the brutal way she'd come into this immortal life, but it was a part of life. Normal. Good, even. And this werewolf they were hunting? He was evil incarnate. Watching the life drain from his eyes would be nothing but delightful.

Emery stalked in front of Jelisette, his movements smooth and calculated like a panther. She kept pace with him, her strides graceful and her footfalls silent.

Thorn wouldn't know what hit him.

Time slipped by.

They'd just passed a glowing cluster of blue mushrooms when Emery abruptly halted and held up a hand.

She obeyed, and moments later, she heard it. A feminine whimper. It was little more than a whisper on the wind coming from deep within the mountain, but it was like a wooden stake to her heart.

Not only was their prey here, but he had someone with him.

Anger was a living monster within Jelisette's veins. Flashes of memories she long kept buried forced their way to the forefront of her mind.

Large hands, holding her down. Begging for mercy. Heavy hips pinning her to the ground. Laughter when she cried. Pain. So much fucking pain.

Her heart raced in her chest. Each pulse was a drum, an echo of cries that had once slipped past her lips.

She'd been too weak to save herself that time long ago. Too weak to stop him.

Not fucking anymore. Now, Isvana's power ran through her veins. She was a creature of the night, meant for death and destruction. She would be damned if she allowed someone else to suffer in the same way she did.

Jelisette's shadows flooded out of her, darkening the space around her like a cloak of the night. Before her, Emery did the same. They were swathed in darkness, and they moved as one towards their prey. They did not have weapons because they didn't need them .

Each of their bodies was as lethal as a dozen mortal weapons. Knives and guns had nothing against their Ithiar-blessed bodies.

The cries grew louder.

Jelisette's anger throbbed in her veins. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent moons behind.

"Faster," she hissed at Emery.

He took one look at her and nodded. They ran through the night, shadows streaming around them both as they moved with the speed of their kind. Jelisette would be damned if they were too late to save this woman, whoever she was.

Finally, after all these years, she had a purpose once more.

Seconds trickled by. Minutes? It didn't matter. Nothing did except the impending death of the horrible man they hunted.

Finally, they rounded the last corner.

Horror unfurled in Jelisette's stomach as she took in the scene before them. It was like reliving a nightmare.

Thorn was half-naked, wearing only a pair of jeans. His back muscles rippled, and his brown hair was pulled back as he towered over a rail-thin woman cowering in the corner.

The woman was frantically pulling her dress over her body and kicking weakly at the man. "Stop," she cried out. "Please."

Jelisette didn't wait to see anything else. She didn't look at Emery to ask if he had a plan, nor did she stop long enough to wonder whether the werewolf had any silver weapons that might harm her. She didn't do anything except snarl viciously at Thorn as she shed her cloak of darkness and launched herself at the werewolf.

Death was the only thing he deserved.