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Meanwhile, Sabin sprayed the Unspoken One with a flamethrower as Gideon pelted him with ammo from an automatic rifle.
“My turn!” Keeley shouted. Going to enjoy this.
To her surprise, Torin’s friends paused midbattle, giving her the opening she needed.
She flashed to the creature’s shoulders and wrapped her legs around his neck. As he reached up to grab her and throw her off—good luck, sucker—she slammed the poisoned horn she still held into his eye. He bellowed in pain, his muscles seizing. He toppled over, remaining on the floor, unmoving.
Keeley crawled out from under him, stood, and spit on him. “Finish him off. Remove his head and heart and then burn the pieces.” No need to take chances.
One down. Three to go.
She flashed throughout the house, finding the remaining three beasts in a bedroom, working together. The two males were so tall and wide they were like living mountains. One was bald, with shadows seeping from his skull. Shadows that were thick and black and putrid. The other had blades rather than hair. Small but sharp, they spiked from his scalp, each glistening with blood.
One of Torin’s friends lay still and quiet on the floor. Aeron, the heavily tattooed one.
Keeley didn’t allow herself to study him too closely. Not yet. Her emotions...
The walls of the fortress began to shake all over again.
Calm. Steady.
Torin stood in front of his friend, sword-fighting Beak Face. Keeley paused for a moment, snared by the sight. What a hauntingly macabre picture they made. The beaked villain whose motions were as fluid as water, and the angelic hero whose every movement was calculated and methodical.
The female flashed behind him, but he’d expected the action and turned, meeting her with the tip of his sword. Before he could deliver a deathblow, she vanished, appearing at his left. Keeley flashed to her, intending a sneak attack just as another of Torin’s friends slid across the room on his knees, knocking both the Unspoken One and Keeley off their feet.
“Sorry, sorry,” he rushed out.
“No worries,” Keeley replied.
Torin raised his sword to stab Beak Face, only to pause when he caught sight of Keeley.
The pause cost him. Beak Face seized on the opportunity to kick him in the stomach, sending him propelling backward, through a wall and into another room.
The shaking of the walls intensified.
Keeley flashed Torin’s sword into her own hand and then flashed, flashed, flashed, going from one place to another so that the Unspoken One could never get a lock on her. And when finally the creature was simply swinging in circles, batting at air, Keeley appeared a mere whisper away from her and stabbed her in the neck, then yanked the blade down...down...until it had split Beak Face’s stomach and pelvis in two and come out between her thighs. Blood spurted as the female howled with agony and dropped.
Keeley grinned. “Enjoy that? I did.”
The demon-possessed warrior who’d knocked Keeley down was close enough to the fallen Unspoken One to remove her head.
Two down. Two to go.
Torin returned and looked Keeley over. “You okay?”
“Better than.”
“Gideon is in danger,” someone called from downstairs.
Keeley flashed away and had no trouble guessing which one was Gideon. The blue-haired warrior was halfway up the steps and flat on his back. The Unspoken One with the shadows seeping from his head had an arm raised, claws elongated and at the ready.
“No!” She flashed Gideon to the other side of the fortress just as the grinning Unspoken One flashed to her, swinging his arm down...down...his plan all along.
His acid-tipped claws ripped through her jugular, cutting off her scream of agony before it even had a chance to form. Torin’s shout of denial rang in her ears as she thumped to the floor.
Never burned...quite so...badly. Thoughts, breaking apart.
Though her vision hazed with spots of black, she witnessed Torin’s approach to the grinning Unspoken One—only to lose sight of the pair as the shadows from the Unspoken One’s scalp wound around them. No. No! But the shadows thinned as quickly as they’d thickened, revealing Torin with a beating heart in his palm.
As the Unspoken One toppled to his knees, gasping in pain, Torin stuffed the heart into his mouth. Her warrior drew back his sword and struck. The creature’s head thumped to the floor and rolled away. The rest of him flopped forward, and tumbled down the stairs.
“Princess,” Torin said, crouching beside her. His hands cupped her cheeks. He hissed in a breath. “Sorry. Sorry. Left blood on your face.”
Don’t care about that, she tried to say, but struggled to move her mouth. Black swallowed the rest of her vision. All around her, battle noises registered. Grunts. Metal slashing across bone. Cracks. Curses. Another thump. Then something soft was once again smoothing over her face.
“Stay with me.” Torin’s masculine scent enveloped her. “Aeron is alive. Everyone survived. I expect the same from you. Do you hear me?”
Blood gurgled from the corners of her mouth. Great! How unattractive was that?
“Bond with me,” he continued. “Do it. Take my strength. Anything you need.” The rustle of clothing.
He wants my bond?
Joy...
Torin must have ripped off his shirt because the next thing she knew, he was pressing soft cotton into the wound in her neck. “You’ve got nothing to do but get better. And you will. I’ve been here. I’ve had my throat slit and pulled through. You will, too. You’re stronger than anyone I know. You will heal. That’s an order, princess.”
