Chapter 13

ANITA

Iwatch in amusement as Soren hovers over me like nature is a deadly foe he must conquer, not that I can blame him. Darkness lingers in the forest, something malevolent hunting for its next meal.

Shaking off the oppressive feeling, I scan the guys to see if they sense something that I'm missing. Porter takes over as lead, blazing a path, and I swear I see little wisps of shadow zip and zing around him, helping him clear the way. Darby is only a step behind, giving directions and tramping down the trail.

Soren kicks rocks out of my way, snaps branches, and crushes thorny weeds that encroach on the makeshift path, even going so far as to light a few of the more persistent vines and underbrush on fire.

The vegetation goes up fast, a bright flash of light like gunpowder igniting, and ash drifts to the ground in a macabre snowfall. I'd swear the forest pulls away at our approach, but that would be foolish…right?

Cassius brings up the rear, watching the forest like he's waiting for it to attack, which, from the oppressive feeling swamping the area, wouldn't surprise me.

He stays close, his head swiveling to take in our surroundings, but I don't miss the way he keeps me in view at all times. Part of me would like to think he's concerned, but I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm an idiot who might wander off the path and need to be retrieved.

His presence is like an annoying itch under my skin. I don't like him at my back, not trusting he would protect me if it came to an attack. Every time I glance back at him, swearing I can feel him sneaking up on me, I find him glaring at the back of my head.

The last time I looked back, I reached up to rub my brow…with my middle finger.

A little hiss escapes him, and if I didn't know better, I would swear that his lips twitched.

Facing forward once again, I'm unable to resist a smile at knowing my very presence irritates the shit out of him. There's a bounce to my steps, and I'd almost swear I feel his gaze drop to my ass.

Which is totally ridiculous, right?

I don't look back to confirm my suspicions. I'd rather not know. He confuses me enough with his hot and cold attitude. It's a struggle to stay alive and one step ahead of the law and my family. I don't need more complications in my life…not to mention I don't have time to chase after a man who's not interested in me.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't notice the others have stopped until I nearly plow into Darby's back. The only thing that stops me is Soren, who wraps an arm around me and pulls me back at the last second.

I open my mouth to curse them out, but no sound emerges when I see what has captured their attention.

There is a fucking dead body stretched between two trees in the clearing only a few yards away. A strangled sound escapes me as I take in the rough shape of what remains of the mangled corpse.

The answer is very little.

Before I can process the details, Darby and Porter stiffen, then they each take a step toward each other until their broad backs form a solid wall of muscle, completely blocking my view of the carnage.

Unfortunately, they are too late.

The image has already been burned into my brain.

Without a word, I slip out of Soren's hold and swerve around the men, not stopping until I'm five feet away from the dangling body.

The man's hands and legs are tied, his limbs stretched taut, the body hanging limply between the ropes. The head sags forward, but there is no peace on his face. His expression is twisted into a mask of horror, and my gut churns with the knowledge that the poor fellow was alive when he died.

Porter steps in front of me again, blocking my view of the corpse, and I blink at him, not really seeing him. I vaguely hear the others cursing behind me, but before I can turn, Porter cups my face, tips my head back, then leans down until our noses almost touch. "Don't look. Give us an hour to investigate, then we'll take you from here. You don't have to?—"

I reach up and squeeze his hand, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. "This isn't the first time I've seen a dead body, and I very much doubt it will be my last. Don't rush your investigation on my account. This person needs to be caught. I won't be responsible for hindering your investigation."

The cursing behind me stops suddenly at my words, and the eerie silence of the place rings out once more. I pat his hand, then startle when it feels like a rough tongue laps against my palm. When I look down, I see shadows dancing lightly around my hand, like I stuck it in a murky cloud of black fog. It appears to be petting me, as if I'm a wild critter that needs to be tamed.

Porter scowls down at the shadows, then hastily jerks away and shakes out his hand until they fade into nothing.

I immediately miss the touch, my skin still tingling from the slightly cool texture, and I curl my hand into a fist, not ready to give up the sensation. Porter glares down at me like I mortally offended him by dumping skunky gremlin pee into his hair products or something, and I have to plant my feet to keep from recoiling.

The first lesson I learned as a child is never to show fear, or they will eat you alive, so instead, I meet his gaze without flinching and lift a single brow in challenge.

"You can't seriously be considering letting her stay," Cassius argues, edging slightly in front of me to face off against Porter. "She doesn't need to see this shit. It will give her nightmares."

Darby looks uncertain, studying my face like I'm some fragile flower that needs to be protected, and I nearly roll my eyes at the absurdity. "You don't think I can handle the darkness of your world?"

"No," Cassius responds without hesitation, a mulish expression on his face. "The evil of our world will taint you and suck you down with it until you're drowning in the darkness. Once you get the stain on your soul, no amount of scrubbing will get it off."

The guys look at Cassius like they've never seen him before, his outburst taking them by surprise. Against my will, I find myself softening toward him, even though I know it will most likely come back to bite me on the ass later like a pack of hungry chimera.

"I've already seen the darkness. I've been swimming in it for most of my life." I take a step toward him, stopping when he stiffens, and my chest stings at the knowledge that someone hurt him so badly that it scarred him down to his soul. "I haven't drowned yet. If it's too much, I'll stand back. Promise."

Soren studies my face like he can read below the surface, then he nods slowly, like he's trusting me to know my limits, and my heart warms at his confidence in me.

He turns toward Porter and shrugs. "She's part of the team. She needs to see what we do, and we need to know what she can handle."

An inarticulate hiss escapes Cassius, and he storms away like he was mentally stomping on them instead. Darby hesitates for a moment longer, taking a step toward me, then dips his head. "If it gets to be too much, just let me know. No one here will fault you."

I give him a wry smile, then shrug. "If I gave up every time my life got hard, I would have been dead a long time ago. I can handle this."

Maybe…

Lack of courage isn't my problem.

I've overcome much worse from my family without flinching, so this should be a breeze.

Yet there is something in the back of my mind that is screaming at me to run and hide. If I don't turn back now, it will be too late.

Normally, I would trust my instincts. They've kept me alive many times in the past when things became dangerous. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. If I want to stay alive, my best chance is to push forward.

I can't dismiss the feeling that I'm supposed to remain with the guys or something bad will happen to not only me, but them as well.

Our fates are entwined now.

Taking me at my word, Darby steps back and begins working. Porter sighs, like I'm making his life harder than it needs to be, but he doesn't protest, just steps aside.

I'm face-to-face with the body once again.

Just like the first time, seeing the corpse is a shock to the system, and it takes me a moment to push past the horror. Someone did this to him. That person deserves to be caught and punished. If I can help in any way, then it's the least I can do.

He deserves to have someone bear witness to his last moments and find him justice.

The corpse is so pale, the flesh is a piercing white. The body is drained of blood, but not from some vampiric creature. No, it looks like claws slashed down his torso and peeled open his rib cage, gutting him with a few efficient strokes.

Entrails lie scattered across the ground in a juicy pile. Stale blood pools below the body, the surface of the puddle almost black, the congealed liquid looking slightly lumpy. The center of the sludge still glistens in the light, and I'd swear that I can almost feel the tacky texture against my fingertips.

The guys talk amongst themselves, reporting what they find, but I ignore them.

Something about the placement of the body, the way the scene is laid out, is achingly familiar, and the hairs on the back of my neck lifts in warning.

I take a tentative step forward, expecting to be hit with the scent of blood and decay, but I'm immediately swamped with the funky odor of dark magic. The air is so thick with the residual magic that it feels like it's trying to crawl down my throat and take root in my chest.

I cover my nose with the back of my hand, my eyes watering at the stench—a dark medley of human waste and sharp chemicals. It threatens to sear my sinuses with each breath, the vile smell so sinister that my fire roars to life and crackles across my skin in a desperate attempt to eradicate it.

I stumble back from the assault, struggling not to light the whole fucking forest on fire. My heart rattles against my ribs so hard that my chest aches, my head thudding with each beat until it feels like it will implode.

Something inside my brain crumbles.

My vision darkens, and I sway.

The last thing I see is the ground rushing up to greet me.

SOREN

Fire explodes out of Anita in a massive wave that immediately ignites leaves and wilts branches in a ten-foot circle. I might not have known her for long, but I know she wouldn't lose control like that unless something was wrong.

Flames dance in the air around her, and I don't even hesitate to leap through the fire. I barely reach her in time before she crashes to the ground. I pull her to my chest, hissing when the heat of her skin burns, despite my immunity from my hellhound, but I only tighten my grip on her.

I won't let her go now that I just found her.

My clothes don't just burn, they incinerate. When her flames waver slightly, I sense what triggered her. Dark magic coils around her like a snake, trying to crack open her shield and infect her.

Fury ignites in my chest, and I don't even hesitate to call my own flames. I grit my teeth when they blast out in a wave. Her golden red flames dim, and for a heart-stopping second, I fear my flames might overpower hers altogether and extinguish them. When they slowly merge, forming a searing white flame hot enough to incinerate even the most insidious magic, I sag in relief and curl myself around Anita.

The black magic sizzles like water being thrown into a pan of hot grease. It fights back, desperate to claim its new prize, but my hellhound roars in defiance. The combined assault is too much, and the dark magic drops to the ground, withering like maggots trying to escape.

They slowly burst with a pop, oozing a black substance that sizzles under the flames. The stench of carrion pollutes the air, and I drag Anita away from the nasty mess as it bubbles and melts into a dark sludge.

When I'm sure it's gone, my flames gradually ease. They wrap around Anita's naked form, nudging her much like an eager puppy looking for reassurance. I don't sense any outward signs of injury, but her flames are nearly depleted.

Again.

That's twice in as many days.

After a long minute, when my flames are finally convinced that the threat is really gone, they sink back into my skin, settling into a slow simmer, alert for any danger that might want to harm our mate. We failed and nearly lost her the first time. We won't make that same mistake again.

With the roar and crackle of the flames gone, I hear the guys swearing. When I glance up, it's to see them waiting at the edge of a ten-foot charred circle of a black wasteland. The flames burned so hot that not even the dirt survived unscathed.

Unable to form words, I grunt.

It's all confirmation the guys need to rush forward.

"What the hell happened?" Porter barks, but his attention is focused on the girl in my arms, his worry palpable.

"Is she okay?" Darby asks at the same time, reaching for Anita, then he hisses and jerks back when her skin scalds the tips of his fingers.

Before I can open my mouth, Anita releases a low groan and stirs in my arms. I tighten my hold at the thought of her leaving, not ready to let her go yet. Her hand comes to rest weakly on my chest. Instead of pushing me away, she just brushes her fingers lightly against the spot directly over my heart.

I release a shuddering breath and bury my face in the mass of her frizzy hair. The smell of smoke clings to her, her own scent faint underneath, reminding me how close we came to losing her. I'm not aware of a growl rumbling from my chest until Anita begins petting me.

While I'm not a damn animal to be tamed, my hellhound is soothed by her touch, her soft caresses like a balm to my soul.

When she leans closer, brushing her face against mine, the adrenaline rush finally fades, leaving me a shaking mess. The only thing holding me together is the slight girl in my arms. Though she might be small, she has the power to slay me with a single touch.

Then she wheezes out two words.

"Must. Breathe."

I snort then reluctantly loosen my hold, despite my beast grumbling in complaint. I don't let her go completely. I'm not sure I'm even capable of it at this point. I don't apologize either, because I'm not sorry. If given the chance, I would never let her out of my arms, but girls generally freak out when you say shit like that to them.

I'll have to ease Anita into accepting my overprotective nature, so she's not aware of what's happening until she's addicted to my touch and can't live without me.

Some say I'm a possessive asshole, but I'd like to think I'm an obsessive romantic.

Same difference, right?