Chapter 15

CASSIUS

We finished containing the crime scene two hours later and reported the findings to MID—though we kept our theories to ourselves. We only relayed the strict facts about what we found, then we disposed of the body as per MID regulations. Meaning we torched the area.

Since most of the clearing has already been scorched, thanks to Anita, it's a great cover.

In under three hours, we're heading back to town.

Anita has been quiet almost the whole time.

I don't trust it.

The woman is anything but meek and mild.

No, she's plotting, and I don't like it. I don't bother to stare out the window, I just stare at her. I want to say it's in hopes that it will make her so nervous that she'll blurt out her secrets, but I know better.

She won't break.

No, I stare because she fascinates me.

Even though I know better.

She's wearing another set of clothes that Porter stashed in the back. Which is good, since we don't need the distraction of her running around naked again. And yet I miss the way the shadows clung to her curves, moving over her skin like a caress. The way the darkness played peekaboo with her flesh, giving us delicious glimpses of tan skin.

Once again seated next to her in the truck, my beast coils inside my chest, content just to be nearby. Though she might annoy me to no end, I can admit that it's nice not to constantly be fighting myself every second of the day.

I'm not sure I trust my beast's reaction to her. It's like she somehow hypnotized my basilisk instead of the other way around. I'm desperate to learn what makes her tick, and it's all I can do not to demand she tell me how she's able to control my beast.

Unfortunately, I suspect it's some sort of fluke.

If I want answers, I'm going to have to keep her close and study her.

Anita turns suddenly, taking me by surprise, and I lurch back, my cheeks stinging as heat fills my face at being caught.

"What do you want?" She doesn't sound mad, more like she's just exhausted by the events of the last few days.

I can't say I blame her. I hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "You've been quiet. I'm curious about what's running through your head."

She purses her lips, searching my face, and I hold perfectly still, suddenly incredibly nervous. It's all I can do not to fidget.

Reaching up, she rubs the tips of her fingers between her brows and closes her eyes. "I'm trying to think of what a demon could possibly want with someone like me."

I lean forward, curious what conclusions she's drawn. "And what did you decide?"

"Demons want two things—power and the ability to walk the earth." Her eyes pop open, and I'm captured in her dark gaze. "Since I've never heard of a demon being able to possess another demon, I don't think they are interested in possession. No, I think what they want is the ability to walk through both realms while retaining their ability to use demonic magic.

"If I had to venture a guess, I don't think demons are killing these people. I think they capture them, then wait to see what happens when they come into their demonic powers." She looks away, flicking her nails in a nervous habit.

My gut gives a sickening lurch, and I struggle with the desperate urge to lean over and cover her mouth with my hand.

I don't want to hear more.

"Even with our demonic blood, I suspect our human bodies are too fragile to contain the power. That's why the corpses look like something was trying to get out of them—because it's true. Our bodies get overloaded with power, and it has nowhere else to go but out." She looks at me, a sad smile twisting her lips. "It would also explain why there isn't a trace of magic left in the bodies—it burned away."

I hate the defeated look in her eyes. "But you don't know that for sure. You could be wrong."

Yet even I don't believe my words.

"Yeah. Maybe." She shrugs, then looks away. "I guess we'll find out in a couple of days when I come into my powers…if I survive that long."

Soren growls, then leans forward and tucks her against his side like he could protect her from what's coming. She leans into him, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, and I'm insanely jealous at the easy way he touches her without fear. I clench my hands into fists to resist reaching out to her, wanting to reassure her, and I force myself to turn away before I give into temptation.

I refuse to put her in danger just because I'm horny.

Darby is sitting in the front seat, desperately searching for information on the servers, but I don't miss how frequently he keeps glancing at Anita to make sure she hasn't disappeared.

That she's real.

Although Porter is driving, he's just as distracted, casting frequent glances at Anita in the rearview mirror. The man is a literal boogeyman, a living nightmare, but I never met anyone so fiercely protective of those he considers his own.

Despite having just met, she's wormed her way under Porter's guard. I should be suspicious—I am—yet I no longer think she means to harm our team. That doesn't mean I trust her completely, but I also don't want to see any harm come to her either.

"What do you think demons will gain by siring half-breeds?" Porter leans forward, resting his forearms on the steering wheel as he navigates the narrow forest road.

"Honestly?" Anita straightens and looks over at him. "I have no clue. It depends on the demon. Only certain breeds are compatible enough to procreate with humans. Maybe that's why there are so many of us at the same time—they are testing to see what type of demons are compatible and can survive the transition."

She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Demons deal in blood. They sign contracts in it, bind humans with it. Some are said to be able to even control humans by drinking it. Many consider blood the source of our power."

"How do you know all this?" I ask, doing my best not to sound suspicious. If the annoyed and slightly exasperated look everyone shoots my way is any indication, I failed miserably.

I scowl back.

I'm fucking trying, but I never learned to be nice to anyone before.

It wasn't a skill that I ever needed.

Apparently, it's something that takes a while to learn.

Used to my asshole ways, Anita answers anyway. "My family looks into everything that might be useful to them, and ways to gain more power is definitely something they researched extensively. There is an entire library on the subject."

She peers at Darby, her expression lightening a little. "You would like the collection."

"What else did you find?" Soren asks, his voice rough and growly as his beast hovers close to the surface. If it were anyone else, I would be worried for their safety, but the hellhound would never hurt the girl.

"Some of the ancient texts hint that demons used to live in this realm before they were banished to the underworld. Some people think that's why they need to possess humans—our blood allows them to return."

"But only for a limited time," Darby adds, his tablet forgotten in his lap. "The human body eventually dies, unable to sustain hosting a demon for any extended length of time."

"That's not strictly true," Soren mutters, refusing to look anyone in the eye. He tightens his grip on Anita's hand and plays with her fingers. "A demon can possess a human for longer. The body decays faster when possessed, so to stop it, they need?—"

"Blood," Anita blurts out, her eyes wide.

Soren's head jerks up, meeting her gaze, then he nods slowly. "Vampires are considered myths, something that's only real in books or movies. They are actually demons who decided to live in this realm.

"Demons don't often remain in the human realm. They are not as strong here. Unfortunately, some demons have no other place to go if they get into trouble, while others genuinely like living amongst mages and beastlings. They thrive off blood and death, but they need to feed regularly from other humans to be able to remain in this realm and keep their host alive."

Soren rubs his thumb back and forth over the back of Anita's hand, and I'm not sure if it's to soothe himself or her. "Being possessed changes a human body. The longer the demon remains, the less human they become. Even if the demon eventually gets bored and leaves, the host will forever remain a vampire."

Anita stares at him unblinking. When she speaks, the words are barely a breath of air. "Vampires are real."

A hint of awe and more than a touch of fear colors her voice.

"Vampires are real," Soren confirms, then his expression turns grim. "And if we want to figure out why demons are hunting you, then we need to find one and demand answers."

ANITA

Well, fuck me.

That is totally not what I was expecting.

Ominous silence descends in the truck, and I guess I'm not the only one taken by surprise.

"Vampires are real." What the fuck? I harrumph, my mind completely blown. I collapse against my seat, then tilt my head back and gaze blankly up at the ceiling. I absently run my fingertips over my bottom lip, then drop my hand with a breathless laugh. "That was one thing I never expected to cross off my bingo card."

I lean forward, propping my elbows on my knees, and glance between the guys. "So how does one go about finding a vampire? Especially one who would be willing to talk to us and not eat us?"

I can't believe that sentence just came out of my mouth.

Darby doesn't even bother to lift his tablet, he just shakes his head, an unreadable expression on his face.

I think we broke him.

I snap my fingers in front of his face. He blinks at me, his gorgeous robin's-egg blue eyes coming into focus. The teal color darkens, and I can practically see his brain reengage. "I'll check the MID servers."

"I can check my contacts," Porter says, his eyes locked on the side mirrors. "But we need to be careful. The information isn't common knowledge for a reason. People kill to keep it quiet."

Darby is already nodding his head. "I'm using the backdoor into the system and covering my tracks. The last thing we need is for MID to get wind of what we're doing."

Cassius shifts, invading my space, and I stiffen, instantly feeling crowded. The scent of desert with a touch of thunderstorms fills my senses, and I turn my head away, trying to get a clear breath of air.

It's not that I don't like it—I like it too much.

He's made his opinion of me obvious. The last thing I want to do is fall any further under his spell. I don't think my ego can withstand any more harsh rejections at the moment.

Cassius speaks over my head to Soren, and I hate that I'm disappointed.

That's when I notice Porter checking the mirrors again.

Unease swirls in my gut like a stormy ride on the back of a wild griffin. I stiffen, tension creeping through my muscles, and I unconsciously brace for an attack. I glance behind us. While I don't see anything suspicious, I'm not sure I know what to look for in the sea of trees. There are just too many places to hide, and I grit my teeth in frustration.

I'm a city girl.

All the trees look the fucking same to me.

When I turn to face forward, Porter's expression is grim. "What did you?—"

"Brace yourselves!" At Porter's harsh command, the men go into action. Cassius reaches behind the seat, rips up the mat, and begins distributing spelled guns that shoot magic-nulling bullets.

As the truck lurches and bucks over various trees and brush, Soren reaches under the seat and presses some buttons. Something clicks, then the floor shifts, revealing a hidden cache of even more weapons directly below our feet. He lifts out a heavy metal rod, then hits the bar in a way that has a low hum vibrating in the air.

He tosses a small pebble at it, causing energy to crackle around the edge when it makes contact, and a potch like a bulb blowing echoes in the small space. The pebble is reduced to dust. My wide eyes gaze lands on Soren, and he speaks before I can even formulate a question. "It will stop a beastling dead."

Then he promptly hands me one.

I accept it gingerly, afraid I will accidentally taser myself.

The cylinder feels cold and heavy in my hands, and I tighten my grip, moving it around to familiarize myself with the weight. Glowing vials from the floor vault are passed out next, and I don't even want to know what they can do.

It wouldn't surprise me if MID issued potions that could melt flesh from bone.

The truck hits a bump hard enough that I go airborne. The only thing that prevents me from smacking my head is Cassius' quick reflexes as he yanks me down to the seat next to him.

Without missing a beat, he grabs the seat belt and buckles me in without once looking at me. When he pulls away, I gasp when it looks like we're hurtling through the forest at top speed.

Without a fucking road.

Porter plows over the underbrush and small trees without hesitation. I tuck the metal taser into my lap so I don't smack myself or others with it, my grip so tight that my knuckles are white. My hips ache from the seat belt, but I don't dare adjust the straps. I'll take the bruises, thank you very much, rather than launching face-first out of the windshield.

During my freak-out, the guys kept their cool.

Darby shoves his tablet behind him, and it's only then that I see he's wearing a version of a fanny pack under his clothes, designed specifically for his electrical devices.

No wonder it always looks like magic when he pulls his tablet out of his ass.

He pops the glove box open, revealing a glass surface with a keypad, then punches in some sort of code that makes the glass slide open. He pulls out a specially designed gun and efficiently pops out the magazine, checks the ammo, then slams it back home. Without missing a beat, he racks the slide back like it's second nature, then repeats the process with a second gun.

Holy fucking sexy!

While I find his geeky side attractive, the naughty girl in me is drooling over this version. By nature, I'm not a fan of bad boys. They are usually alphaholes, and I'm not sure why people put up with their shit, but I have to admit, if Darby started giving me orders, I'd be down for it.

Soren chuckles, the delicious sound echoing in my ears, and I whirl so fast, I nearly give myself whiplash. He winks, a knowing look in his eyes, and I can't do anything about the blush that climbs into my face.

He turns and lunges out the window, firing his gun without missing a beat. I yelp, then lurch over the seat, latching onto the back of his pants, terrified he will fall out of the vehicle at any second.

It takes my poor heart a minute to realize this is something they do often when Darby and Cassius casually lower their windows, lean their torsos out, and begin shooting as well. I grit my teeth against the need to yell at them to get their asses back inside the vehicle.

Darby is facing the front, clearing the path and shooting at something in the trees. Cassius joins Soren by taking aim at the creatures chasing us. I want to yell at the shitheads to warn a girl next time, but I don't want to distract them. So much is happening at once that my brain can't process anything, and I'm left holding nothing but a stupid taser.

Assholes.

Porter is focused on driving, expertly avoiding trees with barely enough room so the guys escape being turned into paste and smeared against the side of the truck.

Wondering who's after us, I glance out the rear window…then wish I hadn't.

Creatures move through the forest, running so fast, they are practically a blur. I say creatures, but they look like monsters out of a fairy tale, half human and half beast.

Beastlings in full shift.

While many beastlings have the characteristics of their alter counterparts, very few can actually transition into their full beasts. They end up turning into a weird mishmash of human and animal, and if they are not strong enough, some get stuck in that form.

Other times, some just like the power they get when they take their alternate form. They are usually dominant assholes who like blood and aggression just a little too much to pass as human. They are often prone to fights and flee the cities instead of standing trial for the crimes they commit.

Over half a dozen creatures are chasing us. Three are obvious lycans—wolves caught between human and beast form—and another two are a weird lion and human combination. They sport massive manes, their faces feline, and their fangs are the size of my fingers.

The beasts are enormous, easily the size of a small car.

The remaining animals giving chase are a combination of smaller dogs and cats. They are mostly humanoid in shape, but their features are all beast. Instead of skin, they have fur covering every inch of their bodies, and an impressive set of claws and fangs. Their size should make them look less intimidating, but the feral quality to them warns that they won't hesitate to maul you if given a chance. Some run on two legs, but others do a weird lope on all fours that makes them impossibly fast and look freaky as shit.

That's when I process that they are gaining on us.

A truck is not meant to go off-road in the middle of a forest.

"Brace!" Cassius barks, and everyone hauls their asses inside the truck. Darby and Cassius rapid fire out of the windows, and I gulp when I see what's heading right toward us—a herd of creatures that are half human and half bull.

Real life fucking minotaurs!

I've never seen one in the flesh. They look more monster than human. Their shoulders are massive, their fur shaggy and knotted, giving them a ragged appearance. They are easily seven feet tall, their chest and shoulders enormous in order to support their massive bull-like heads.

There are five of them charging us from the side, their snouts flaring as they snort air. The spelled bullets are hitting them, but they just aren't penetrating their hides. The guys focus on firing at one creature at a time, dousing them in whatever concoction is coated on the ammunition. When one goes down in a spray of bullets, they shift their focus to the next. They only manage to take out two more, then time runs out.

The minotaurs lower their heads, and I gulp when I see their horns are longer than my damn arm. Soren curses, then tucks me against his chest and hunches over me. Cassius turns away from the window, wrapping himself around me and cutting off my view.

Then there is no more time to think when metal shrieks and crunches, and we go flying. The vehicle tips, then rolls over and over, only to slam into a tree so hard, the roof crumples with a boom and metal curves around the trunk like a banana.

The impact is enough to yank the oxygen from my lungs, and the seat belt feels like it's trying to cut me in half. Both men grunt and jolt. A rumble fills Soren's chest, while Cassius hisses, and I suspect they each took damage from the crash.

The silence is loud…or maybe the ringing in my ears covers the sounds of the outside world. I blink, and I see my surroundings in snapshots.

Blink.

The guys are gone.

Blink.

The sounds of fighting echo outside the truck.

Blink.

Someone grabs my hair, then yanks it hard enough to jerk me out of the truck. The only thing keeping me from being taken is the seat belt.

Time seems to speed up, but I'm still slow, and I can do nothing when sharp claws slash downward, slicing through the belt and my flesh with one swipe.

I don't even have time to hiss in pain when the grip in my hair tightens and I'm dragged from the vehicle. My fire stirs to life, the embers heating, but the flames are muted. I'll be able to light one or two people up, turn them into a walking BBQ, but then I'll be so weak, I'll pass out.

I don't care about myself, but I have no control right now. The thought of hurting one of the men has me hesitating, and I make the decision to conserve my powers.

I reach up to claw at the hand tangled in my hair, and I realize I'm still holding the taser. I lift the stick and press it between the asshole's legs, not even flinching at the notion that I might be shocked as well since he's holding onto me. The mental image of his balls swelling to the size of grapefruits makes me smile, and I press the rod even harder against his undercarriage.

The fucker bellows, and I take great pleasure in watching the dickhead curl up like a spider that has rolled over and died.

Fun fact—secondhand tasering isn't a thing.

Bonus!

I crawl away from his withering form, and I'm left gaping at what remains of the truck. The side of the vehicle is torn open, the minotaurs' horns peeling it open like a fucking can opener. Cassius has his back to me, and I wince when I see his upper shoulder is fileted open, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side.

Blood stains his shirt, his glasses are gone, but none of that slows him down much. He's fighting with a grim determination against two…hyenas? They are in beastling form, small humans with fur that makes their complexion look like they have mange. They have furry ears, a small black nose, and beady little eyes so black, they look soulless.

Three others are scattered on the ground around him. Two look like stone statues, and the last one twitches as it looks like his body is eating itself from the inside out.

Basilisk.

The myths are true. He must be incredibly strong to have both powers available to him. Instead of being afraid, my grin turns vicious. He's holding his own, so I stagger to my feet and see Darby fighting something that looks like an ostrich in man form.

That shit is just messed up!

The attacker is extremely tall, his body stretched obscenely long, and his face is oddly shaped with brown, furry feathers instead of hair. They stick up this way and that, covering his entire head, giving him the impression that he's wearing a bad rubber mask. His eyes are wide and too big for his face, while his nose and mouth are elongated into a beak. Deadly three-inch claws tip his fingers. The beastling doesn't hesitate to slash with his hands or lunge forward to peck at his prey.

Darby has a gash on his forehead from when he hit the dash when we rolled, and he has a deep cut sliced through his arm, the doorpost the only thing that kept a minotaur's horns from doing more damage. Claw marks dot his torso where he wasn't able to get out of the way in time, and nasty bruises run up and down his arms where the man's—ostrich's?—beak nipped at him, as if trying to rip off his skin. Darby dances around the man on light feet, holding his own, so I focus on the others.

When I don't see Porter or Soren, my chest tightens in panic.

I stagger toward the truck and see Porter basically ghosting in and out of existence, using his shadows. Any time someone tries to take him down, he dissolves, only to reappear behind them and beat the shit out of them.

One particularly big bastard refuses to go down. The man is a beast, easily five hundred pounds of muscle. The bulky weight looks awkward on him, more like lumpy cysts. His ears are stretched, and his nose is so wide and exaggerated, it's almost comical. When he bares his teeth, they are big and square, each one wider than the width of my thumb.

The texture of his skin is rough, the color ash gray, and he seems to stomp more than walk.

Maybe a rhino or an elephant?

His beastling form is misshapen or mutated somehow, as if his figure is too big to transition to an altered human form.

Though Porter is doing his best to take him down, he's just wearing himself out, and I wonder how many more jumps he can do before he exhausts himself. After each hop, he becomes a little less solid, almost like it's harder and harder for him to take physical form.

Part of me wonders what would become of him if that happened.

Would he become stuck in an incorporeal form forever or just cease to exist?

If I squint hard enough, I'd swear that I could actually see his skeleton beneath the ever shifting smoky fog.

Porter must realize the dangers at the same time and immediately stops fighting. He flashes one last time, appearing behind the asshole, then wraps his arms around the beast. He pulls him into the aether, and they both vanish.

When they reappear, they are thirty feet in the air. The man lets out an alarmed bellow, the trumpet sound giving him away—definitely an elephant—and then they plummet to the ground at an alarming rate. Just as I take a step toward them, Porter vanishes seconds before they would hit. He reappears yards away, already fighting a new opponent.

The hellish version of the Ganesh wannabe isn't so lucky.

He goes splat and doesn't get up again.

Turning away from them, I locate Soren…or what I think is Soren.

There is a fucking three-headed hellhound tearing into any beastling trying to get past him. He's a rare breed, one of the few Cerberuses in existence. The three heads should make him look awkward and malformed, but his beast is so massive that it works. His chest is deep, his shoulders broad enough that the three heads look natural, his thick muscles giving him a sleek physique despite his size.

The three heads give him a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the world, a true apex predator. Cinders rise in the air around his form, his feet burning the ground wherever he stands. Though his hide is black, fire moves under the skin, looking like he has molten lava in his veins instead of blood.

No wonder they are MID agents.

The guys are amazing in every way.

Gripping my baton, I take a step forward to help when the snap of a branch behind me causes me to whirl.

I bring up the baton, but it's too late.

The rock meant to bash me in the back of my skull now cracks across my face.

Instead of feeling pain, my whole body goes numb. As I drop to the ground, I yell at myself to fight, but it's like the connection to my limbs has been severed. Before the ground can smack me in the face, darkness swallows me whole, and my last thoughts are of the guys.