28. Twenty-Eight

“Mother.” Kick.

”Fucking.” Kick.

”Puke-colored, stinking pile of shit!” Kick, kick, kick.

Tanner”s corpse jiggled with each pitiful attempt to release more anger that had been brewing.

Each strike shot electric pain up my damaged legs. I was pretty sure a few bones were broken. My ribs were fractured, my toes, hell, maybe even a femur. If I took too deep a breath, it felt like my lungs would burst. Throbbing in my temples made it hard to focus, but I’d killed that cock bubble.

Tanner was dead. One name was scratched off my list.

I was operating on pure adrenaline and forced myself to move. I needed to get home—to the Under Cloud—to regroup. Aryn wouldn’t take Vastian to hell—not yet anyway—so he’d be at his manor. Ariel would patch me up; I’d get drunk and save him. It was the only thing in my mind—the only thing that mattered.

I would not fail him.

The thought shredded what was left of my blackened heart.

Bursting through Ankar’s shop door, I tripped. Landing hard on my side, I actually screamed because the pain was so brutal. Fuck—I’d forgotten just how much it sucked to not heal in a matter of seconds.

“Atreyis?” he said, jolting to his feet from his sofa.

“I need Brianne. Now.” It even hurt to talk. Damn it.

“Gods, what happened to you?” The Ursid looked so much like Ariel that it was uncanny. It was like she had grown a foot and a beard.

“It doesn’t matter. I need her. Get her.” I tried pushing myself up, but I collapsed again.

His furry hands cupped my underarms and lifted me. My knees instantly buckled, so he threw my arm over his shoulders. The motion pulled at my ribs, and I shrieked again. I gagged, on the verge of puking all over his rug. He gently sat me on his sofa, then rushed to the basin. Returning with a cup of water, I scowled at it.

“I don’t need this. I need whiskey.” But I chugged it down anyway.

“Brianne won’t help you, man. You know that,” he said gingerly, taking the empty cup.

“I don’t fucking care!” I snapped. “Get her here. I’ll fuck her if I have to. I’ll marry her if I have to.”

He blinked. “Does Ariel know what is going on?” His hand gestured to my entire body.

I growled at him.

Brianne was someone I made the unfortunate mistake of screwing a few years ago. She was beautiful and intelligent but a virgin.

Naturally, she didn’t disclose that to me before I was balls deep inside her. It was a shitty move on her part, and then afterward, she demanded I propose.

Here was where it got fun: Brianne was an elvish porter. She also happened to be the governor”s daughter of Aflem. As you’ve probably guessed, I didn’t propose to her, and according to the laws of the elves, she ”lost her value” —stupid laws, if you ask me.

Alas—she hated my guts.

Ankar had a letter circle. A magical board that sent letters anywhere in the world in mere seconds. We both waited on his sofa. “I wrote it just like you said to,” he said while picking at his cuticles.

I was three tumblers into his whiskey stash, and it wasn’t nearly enough. “She’ll show.”

“What makes you so sure she even wants marriage anymore?” He eyed me.

Leaning my head against the cold wall, I twirled the glass. “She hasn’t married yet. Guess those laws do hold some merit.”

“And this… Vampyr. Is he really worth this?”

I’d admitted to Ankar why I needed to get to the Under Cloud and that Vastian had grown on me. “Yes,” I gritted out.

Clicking his tongue, he started on the other set of cuticles. “Won’t he be—I don”t know—upset? Hurt?”

Sighing, I closed my eyes. “Probably. But it’s better than what waits for him if I don’t get there first. You know, those Vampyrs are fucking sick. The women can’t get knocked up as they should, so they force men to impregnate them. Doesn’t matter if that man is queer.”

“That is horrible,” he agreed.

“I won’t let it happen to him.”

“We could find another porter. It’s not too late for that. We don’t need to ask Bri—”

“No,” I barked. “There isn’t fucking time. I don’t have money to hire any of them. And Alora is gone. So I can’t use her contacts. This is the only way to get to him in time.”

“What about persuasion?”

I opened my eyes to glare at him. “Do I look like I can fight a porter right now?”

He smirked. “But you want to take on Aryn.”

“That’s different.” I looked away from him.

Ankar was a tradesman, but he was still an Ursid. He had all sorts of oddities and rare items in that shop, none of which I immediately recognized. He would have been useful in the fight with Tanner, but Ariel would never let me live it down if a single hair were misplaced on his pelt.

Honestly, why did I care what Ariel thought? What did I care what anyone thought? And why the hell was I so devastated over a Vampyr? I was about to offer myself up on a silver platter for a woman I didn’t like to get to him.

“If push comes to shove, I’ll back you up if you decide to back out.”

“She is a porter,” I drawled. “Porter,” I said it slower.

“Unless she uses a tracking spell, even porters aren’t that powerful.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I mumbled and tried adjusting myself, but I winced.

And I’m supposed to fuck like this?