Chapter 18

When Sam made his way back to Selene through the tavern, he noticed she was sitting unusually straight. He motioned for another ale, then sat down. He could tell something was off with her; she seemed nervous.

She turned to face him. "Sam. I-I have something to say."

There was a quality about her posture, or maybe it was a subtle shift in her scent that made everything male in him suddenly alert.

She paused to fan her face. "Wow, is it really hot in here? Do you think it's okay if I take off my hoodie? I'm taking it off." She tugged off her black jacket, then began rubbing her palms up and down her thighs. "I… I want… I think we should… " she said, then trailed off.

"Yes?" he probed.

She pulled her shoulders back, then took a deep breath. Opened her mouth, closed it. Dropping her eyes, she bit her lip then blurted out, "I'll tell you in a minute. I have to go to the bathroom!"

Sam nodded, though she wasn't asking for his permission. Scrambling down from her stool, she rushed toward the back of the tavern where the passages of relief were located. He rubbed a hand over his chin. Odd human. Changeability must be a quirk of her race. Another thing about her he had yet to understand. When he turned back toward the bar, something soft brushed his foot. Glancing down, he saw that Selene's jacket had fallen to the floor.

He bent to pick it up, then held the fabric to his nose. It smelled of the berry soap he had picked for her in Padu. A deep feeling of possessiveness coursed through him, making him even more certain of the decision he had come to moments before.

I'm keeping her.

Selene would not be traveling back to Queen Thema"s castle that day or any day soon. Not until this mission was over.

It was a decision based purely on logic, arrived at with rational deliberation, or so he told himself. First off, there were no suitable guides in The Golden Gust. The tavern was full of doddering elders, impulsive Harpies, and a group of obnoxious Lycahs. There were no warriors, capable female warriors like he had imagined to shepherd Selene back to Queen Thema.

Secondly, as much as the idea discomforted him, Selene could be used as leverage with Zaybris. When the stakes were this high, could he forfeit such an advantage? Of course, he wouldn't let her come to any harm. Zaybris wouldn't touch one hair on her head. But he would be a fool to let such a treasure go, despite the complications she brought.

The bartender delivered Sam his drink. The singing Harpy took a bow after finishing her performance, and the tavern erupted into applause. The quartet of Lycahs demanded an encore by whistling and pounding their fists on the table. Sam rolled his eyes at their drunken antics and took a drink. One of the Lycahs slowed his cheering to focus on something across the room, then nudged his companions to do the same. He let out a low whistle that revealed his sharp lower teeth. Sam followed their gaze to see Selene moving through the crowd, making her way back toward the bar.

Her shoulders were pushed back, and her hips swayed with every step. There was a determined set to her jaw, and the firelight cast a soft light on her face. A draft from the front door blew her hair back, and Sam became very aware of how it was not only the Lycahs, but every creature in the room watching her. He knew this should concern him because a vampire could have snuck in unseen, yet he felt bespelled by her as well.

Sam had seen Malkina women enter a room as if they were acting on a stage, each movement deliberate and coy. They could command notice as they saw fit, wielding it like a weapon or a scepter. But Selene was oblivious to the attention she attracted. And she passes by every male here to be at my side.

Sam tried not to sigh like a besotted fool.Her long legs encased in those blue human breeches she preferred ate up the distance between them.

Just as Selene was about to reach him, one of the Lycahs shot out a clawed hand toward her. The sound of his palm slapping her backside made a whap that reverberated through the room. Selene turned back with an outraged "Hey!" but the Lycah pulled her into his lap. Then he pressed his lips against her neck as Selene struggled to stand.

His companions looked on, howling and laughing raucously. Until suddenly, they weren't laughing at all. They were screaming.

Sam didn't remember much about what happened next. Only the cold chill of shadows as they chased around him. The feel of his horns sharpening, and his claws extending. The sound of wood cracking and the shatter of glass. The warm rush of liquid against his palms as his fingers wrapped around something hollow and soft.

And then the smell of blood.

Selene fell to the ground with a thud. Her palms scraped against the rough floor, and pain radiated through her knees at the impact. Pushing back her disheveled hair, she tried to reorient herself. What had just happened? One minute she had been trying to escape that nasty wolfman's grip, and the next minute, she had awkwardly fallen to the ground. So much for her new identity as a strong, assertive Aurelian woman.

She sat back on her heels and looked down to see small beads of blood rising on her palms. The burning sensation in her arm let her know Pydiana's scratch had opened up again too. She frowned at the red slash, then grabbed a cleanish-looking cloth napkin from a nearby table to dab at her injuries. When that was done, awareness set in that the room had gone silent. Everyone was looking at something, but not her.

Then she heard a voice that was so deadly, it made her blood turn cold.

"You dare to touch my female?"

It was Sam's voice, but the tone was unlike anything she had ever heard. Her heart pounded once she saw him. He was standing by the fireplace with his right hand wrapped around the throat of the Lycah that had grabbed her, pinning him high against the wall. Every muscle in his powerful body was clenched tight, and he seemed to stand nearly seven feet tall. His skin had flushed from its usual pearlescent copper to deep red. Sweat ran down his temple while wisps of black vapor swirled around him. His horns were huge now, gleaming in the firelight.

She replayed Sam's words in her mind. When understanding dawned, she went dizzy. Oh God, I'm the female. He's talking about me.

Blood was dripping from the back of the Lycah's shaggy head as if he had been slammed into the brick. Sam gave the creature a shake that made him whimper. Then in that same savage voice, he said, "I asked you a question!"

To Selene, Lycahs looked like a cross between a werewolf and a lumberjack, and this one was no different. He was strong, but although he clawed and kicked at Sam with all his strength, Sam didn't budge. Selene wasn't certain he even felt the Lycah's blows until Sam reached up to close his fingers around the Lycah's muscled arm. Then with a snap, he broke his forearm like a twig.

Selene jumped at the sound. She looked away when Sam did the same with the other flailing arm. The sound of two more, louder cracks made her drop her head and cover her ears. When she dared to look back up again, the Lycah's lips were turning blue within his beard.

"Oh no, you're not leaving us yet," Sam said as he loosened his grip. "Breathe deep," he commanded, and the Lycah complied, his broken limbs dangling uselessly with each inhale.

Selene gulped and looked around frantically. Why wasn't someone stepping in? Didn't they have some sort of bouncer or security guard to intervene? The Lycah's companions were clutching each other and shaking. An old Drago shook his green head with disgust while a pair of white-haired Goblyn men sat frozen in the middle of their card game. There were a few other patrons hidden in dark corners, but none stepped forward to help.

She looked for the Bigfoot bartender. Surely he was used to diffusing situations like this. Bar fights were probably a regular occurrence at The Golden Gust. Because that's all this was, she told herself. An ordinary bar fight. She was just watching a misunderstanding unfold, like Sam had earlier with Pydiana. And that had turned out fine.

Because of me.

Selene's breath caught. It was because of her that Sam hadn't completely ripped Pydiana apart. And because of her, Pydiana hadn't stolen all their belongings or done whatever ruthless things a pissed off Harpy did. It was her well-practiced mediator skills that had averted disaster, not any special fighting moves or magic spell.

No one had ever come to her rescue in her old life, and there was no one coming to the rescue here.

She stood. "Sam?" she tried to call, but only a squeak came out. Sam turned from the Lycah to look around the room. When his red eyes landed on Selene, he looked so fierce, so demonic, she began to tremble.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked. His eyes darted down to the napkin she was still pressing against her the cut on her arm, and he snarled.

She quickly let the cloth fall to the floor to show she wasn't injured. "I-I'm fine. It was just the scratch from before."

Sam snarled again and gave the Lycah a small jostle. "How would you like me to kill him?"

Selene didn't think her heart could beat any faster, but his question made it feel like her sternum might split. She tried to protest but could only shake her head. The Lycah began to thrash weakly, then stopped when Sam lunged at his face, just shy of contact.

"No," was all she could manage.

"No? He grabbed you. He touched you," Sam seethed.

"Please don't do this."

"I don't tolerate his sort of behavior. He must be punished."

"No."

Sam's roar of protest echoed through the room so loudly, it made her ears ring. Sam raised his left fist to swiftly punch the wall next to the Lycah's head in frustration, creating a crumpled hole in the brick.

Holding up her palms, Selene said, "Sam, please. That's enough, let him go."

He didn't react. Black shadows swirled around them, seeming to pulse with the hatred and anger radiating off him. Part of her felt like running out the door screaming, but something was pulling her toward him. Selene took a step closer. Sam didn't seem to notice. She looked up at his horns and thought about how easily he could gore the Lycah with them or anyone in the room. She took another step. Only the crackle of the fire and the drip of blood on the floor could be heard.

Tentatively, she reached out her hand. Sam snapped his teeth, warning her to pull back. She continued to reach out until her hand rested against the clenched fist at his side--just as she had done in Padu.

"Sam?" she whispered.

He groaned when her fingers met his skin, and his big body shuddered. "No. Don't touch me."

She coaxed his fingers open so she could fully clasp his hand. When his hand relaxed a fraction, she slipped her fingers across his palm and squeezed.

"Please let him go. You've punished him enough." Her voice was coming steadier now. He looked at her again, and she saw his red eyes flicker to brown. "Sam, I want you to leave him alone. I'm fine."

"I want to give you vengeance," he said. "Let me do this for you. Please."

"You have. And I… I appreciate it," Selene winced at the falseness of her words. "Thank you for the… vengeance. Now I want you to let him go."

"But—"

"Stop this."

Sam looked from Selene's face to the Lycah's, and back again. With a roar, he dropped the Lycah to the ground, then tore his hand from her grip.

Selene took two steps backward. "Thank you."

Sam stood over the creature as it moaned in pain. Though Sam had complied with Selene's request, he was practically vibrating with rage.

"Sam, please get away from him. Go… go stand somewhere else," Selene said, unsure of why she thought he would follow orders. Yet he complied.

Selene looked around the room and called out, "Is anyone a doctor here? Or a… a healer?"

After an agonizing beat of silence, an old Drago in a blue vest shuffled toward her. "Step aside. I'll take a look at him." Bending down to take a closer look, his reptilian scales rippled while taking the Lycah's pulse.

"He'll be fine," he said, more to the Lycah's companions than Selene. "Just needs to drink a pot of horsetail tea in a room with two purring cats. He'll be good as new soon." Before Selene could puzzle over his strange prescription, the Drago added with a chuckle, "And he should think twice before troubling a demon's mate again, eh?"

Selene bristled, resenting his inference that she was mated to a creature who snapped bones for fun. "Thank you."

She could feel the eyes of the entire tavern on her and was uncertain of what to do next. Keeping her head down, she pretended to busy herself looking through her backpack then pulled on her hoodie. When the adrenaline coursing through her finally began to ebb, she saw the Vowa had reappeared.

Forcing herself to smile at him, she said, "Hi. I… uh… sorry about that. Can we go to our rooms now? Two rooms. Definitely two rooms, please."

The Vowa shook his head. "No. We don't tolerate violence here. You both need to leave."

Sam stalked toward them; his expression was murderous. Selene's breath started to come in pants. There was no way she could break up a fight between a demon and Bigfoot! But Sam simply picked up his backpack and walked toward the tavern door.

"Come," he said in a rough voice.

I can't go with him. He's a monster!

She turned from Sam to look around The Golden Gust for a friendly face. Someone sensible like Arkaya or Hollen to rescue her, then translate for her tiny human brain what the hell had just happened. But there was no one to help her. The Lycahs were crowded around their wounded comrade, the Harpies ignored her, and the Drago man had started a game of darts with the Goblyns.

Quick movements to her right made her turn. She watched a pale figure in a gray cloak swoop toward the fallen Lycah, then drop to his knees. The stranger leaned down to press his head close to the Lycah's pointed ear, causing his friends to draw back. Selene felt relieved—he must be another Drago coming to provide medical care.

But then came an odd sound, like a dog slurping at a water bowl. She stumbled backwards. She wasn't watching a Drago, and this guy certainly wasn't providing first aid. The gray-cloaked creature's hood slipped back, revealing a patchy brown scalp and a wet, red mouth.

Vampire.

He was lapping the Lycah's blood from the floor, and clutching the napkin Selene had dropped with his gnarled fingers.

Selene quickly turned from the gruesome sight. Her legs felt so shaky she slumped down onto a stool. My God, she was homesick. What an idiot she had been. Convincing herself that Aurelia was some enchanted paradise—the best parts of places like Wonderland, Oz, and Hogwarts, without the villains. Without the darkness or the consequences.

She could see Sam waiting by the door with his head bent. He was still angry, so angry, but he no longer looked like a bomb about to blow. Tears were trying to bubble up, so Selene closed her eyes. Caught between a vampire and a demon.

What choice do I have?

Opening her eyes, she stumbled toward Sam with heavy feet. He opened The Golden Gust's door, and they went out into the night. Together.