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Cursing, the soldier hooked the shield to his back, then grabbed little Fox by the hair and dragged her off. Though she screamed for help, kicked and punched, he did not release her. Most people turned away, unconcerned. Others watched, curious. Only a few appeared sympathetic to her plight, but no one stepped in.
The soldier pivoted, hauling her down a shadowed, abandoned alley. In the darkest spot, he rested his spear against the wall, then pushed her beside it. A hand wrapped around her throat, holding her in place. The other ripped at her clothes.
A rage-roar barreled out of Bjorn’s mouth. The soldier would die!
Fox fought with all her might but—
His mind blanked, erasing the memory, and Bjorn released another roar. Had Fox escaped before…before…? The urge to commit violence bombarded him. He would rather endure rounds of demon-torture than harm a child. Any child.
The soldier had been human, which meant he’d died centuries ago. I will learn his identity and destroy his family line, wiping any trace of him from the planet!
The thought shocked him. Savage. Brutal. Un-Sent-One-like. Those family members were innocent of the male’s crime. Still, Bjorn did not calm. What other horrors had little Fox survived?
As a thick cloud of shadows rolled through his mind, Bjorn fought to awaken. He kicked and clawed with all his might. In the end, the shadows won. Just before he drifted off, a final thought seared his brain: How can I execute a woman whose past is as riddled with as much abuse as my own?
* * * *
When Bjorn finally ceased moaning and writhing in pain, a semblance of peace returned to his features. Fox exhaled a relieved breath. Sharing her blood had worked! At last, he’d begun to heal.
She expected threats from the demon but—Fox gasped. Miracle of miracles, Distrust went quiet, as if the fiend feared the assassin would speak up. Score one for her temporary link to Bjorn.
As best she could, she patted down Bjorn, searching for a key to the cell, weapons of any kind, or anything she could use to her advantage. Once she gained her freedom, she would hunt for a spot to portal, then alert Bjorn’s friends about his condition. They would take care of him, and she would go…somewhere. Not home. Fox would not endanger Galen and Legion. Maybe a sub-dimension Galen owned: the Realm of the Forgotten. Whoever lived in the realm was forgotten by the rest of the world(s).
“What did you do to him?” a masculine voice demanded, breaking into her thoughts. The sharp tone reminded her of a cat o’ nine tails. Treacherous, lethal, and agonizing—a weapon that kept on giving.
She flipped her gaze up, spying two other Sent Ones. They hurried toward the cell. Like Bjorn, they had wings of gold, but all similarities ended there. The slightly shorter one had blond curls, tanned skin and blue eyes—the infamous Thane. Not that six-foot-three-ish was short. The taller one had white hair, scarred white skin, and red eyes—the much-feared Xerxes.
Together, they projected the most savage air of violence she’d ever encountered. Clearly, they valued Bjorn.
“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered to Bjorn, patting his forearm.
Xerxes reached them first. When he noticed the placement of her hand, he growled—growled!—and stomped on her wrist once, twice. The bones cracked and shattered in seconds. Blistering pain raced up her arm, while her stomach turned inside out, bile spilling out.
Thane scooped Bjorn into his muscular arms, then the group hurried away.
Xerxes paused in the exit to glare over his shoulder and snap, “If he dies, you’ll die, too. I promise, you will scream and beg for death.”
“Sorry, sugar, but he was broken before I took him out of his box,” Fox said before going quiet. No reason to exert precious energy trying to make him believe the Executioner only wished to help.
After what she’d done to the ten, the Sent Ones should not trust her. Ever. Actually, after what she’d done her entire life. No matter the circumstances, Fox only looked out for number one. And, yeah, okay, she’d looked out for number two, as well. But no one else.
Mental note: Don’t forget to tell Galen you likened him to a bowel movement.
“—not even listening to me.” Xerxes snapped his teeth at her before exiting fully.
Only after his footsteps faded did Fox dig the screw out of her pocket. But though she searched, she could not find a lock anywhere on the cell bars. What if there wasn’t a door? That would mean Bjorn had morphed them both into mist to put her inside.
Yeah, that made sense. No door, no way out for non-misters like Fox. Gah! That left only one option for escape—infuriating Bjorn’s friends so much, they took her out of the cell to punish her. Then, she could incapacitate them both and run.
Distrust gave the barest whimper, making it clear he had plenty to say about her plan, and none of it good. But…he continued to keep his doubts to himself.
I might need to consider turning my temporary blood-bond with Bjorn into something permanent. She shouted, “Hey, Zerk. Or do you prefer to be called Scars?” Why not get started on her plan now? “Guess what? I hope the Sent One dies.” Xerxes wouldn’t hear a lie in her tone, because she didn’t state who she meant. In this case, “the Sent One” referenced a collection of warriors who hurt women, children, minorities, and animals.
Fox wasn’t a fan of people, no matter their sex or species, but she loved animals. In fact, that was how she’d gotten her name. One summer, she’d saved a baby fox from a snare. She’d played with the critter every day after for weeks, even fed and watered him until he was old enough to make it on his own. Eventually, her mother began calling her Fox.
Later, as an adult, Fox found a beautiful Siamese cat she’d named Tawny. But it wasn’t long before her enemies snatched and tortured the little darling, depositing the remains in her bed. She’d barely survived the loss. Can’t go through that again. One day, though, she would retire from war, find a quiet place to live, and become a crazy cat lady. The best future anyone could have.
“Hey,” she called at a higher volume. “If Bjorn dies, I call dibs on his wings. Sew on some straps, and I can cosplay a Sent One at the next Comic-Con. And someone bring me a big-screen TV. I’m missing the season premiere of The Bachelor.”
Thumping footsteps, hard and heavy. Two sets. Her taunts had worked!
Heart thudding against her ribs, she hurried to the cot to—nope. Dismantled leg, remember? Right. She sat in the corner instead and leaned against the wall, as if she hadn’t a care. Perfect timing. Both Xerxes and Thane returned, stopping in front of her cell.
They said nothing. But then, words weren’t needed. They radiated extreme hatred and rage.
As she watched, their images dulled, becoming as insubstantial as smoke. Side by side, they slipped inside the cell.
I nailed it! No door. Even better, the plan was working! Excitement spread through her, and she battled to maintain a neutral expression while whisking her gaze over the males, searching for a weapon...finding none.
“You hope Bjorn dies, hmm?” Thane leaned down to clasp her upper arms in a vise-grip and yanked her to her feet. “How about we make you wish to die instead?”
“There’s only one way to do that. You’re going to have to make a pass at me.” Instinct demanded she fight, and fight hard. Punch the cot’s screw into his throat. Knee his balls into his abdomen. Something! But she suppressed her temper, only struggling against his hold half-heartedly.
“I am devoted to my wife. She is a woman of worth,” Thane snapped. “I have no need for another, much less someone like you.” His lips peeled back, revealing straight pearly whites. “Perhaps I should summon my Elin to make introductions. As a phoenix shapeshifter, fire is her specialty. She can burn you alive while I watch and cheer.”
Oh…shit. Fox combatted a shudder. She’d warred with phoenix shifters before, but only because she’d been backed into a corner. They were a bloodthirsty lot, with a higher pain threshold than an
y other species. When you killed them, they came back to life ten-times stronger. But the real reason Fox avoided them whenever possible stemmed from her one and only fear. Burning alive…again.
Her mother had died at the stake, and Fox had tried to save her, bravely throwing herself into the flames. The pain… The only reason she hadn’t scarred was because she’d carried a vial of her mother’s blood. Drinking it had hurt almost as much as the burns. The last remnants of her mother’s life just…gone.
There was no stopping a shudder now. The fact that Thane considered Fox unworthy didn’t bother her in the slightest. Nope. Not even a little. He meant nothing to her. His opinion meant less than nothing.
“Elin can have her,” Xerxes announced, “after I’ve had a turn.”
Thane canted his head, studying Fox more intently. “Are you ready to tell us what you did to Bjorn?”
They still believed her responsible for their friend’s abysmal condition. Batting her lashes, she told him, “Nah. But I am ready for you to try and beat the truth out of me.”
“Let’s get started, then. I’d hate to keep a female waiting.” He tightened his hold on Fox’s arm and nodded at his friend.
The other male moved behind her. If not for Thane, she would have spun to keep him within sight. All she could do? Stand there, grinding her molars.
From the shadow he cast, she thought Xerxes produced two items from thin air. What were those? Boomerangs? Whatever they were, they had a half-moon shape. Worry scraped her nerves raw. What did he think to do with those?
A second later, something cold and heavy settled around her neck. A clicking sound assaulted her ears—a type of death knell.
A grinning Thane released her and stepped back, a handheld mirror appearing in his hand. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and swallowed a horrified gasp. Not a boomerang. A metal collar, with a small hook in the center. A thin chain hung from the hook.
He thinks to lead me around like an animal? Red dotted her vision.
