Reckless cowards at that. That beast may not hurt them if they had their crystals, but I didn’t fear their shiny talismans. The noisy chaos created an opportunity. Their audible camouflage was gifting me a window to make a solid dent in their numbers—no discretion required.
Now was my chance to slaughter.
I launched at the back of the group. Five soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Distracted. All fair game.
I jumped onto the back of the closest male, sending him collapsing to the ground. I’d broken his neck before he even hit the dirt. Now on all fours, I swiped out the leg of the person standing next to him. Another quick kill.
Finally, the other three noticed me and stumbled back. When one tripped during retreat, I wasted no time crushing their windpipe before standing to my feet.
The first bullet hit me. Full of rage and adrenaline, I barely felt it. Wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for the gore that hit my face as it sliced through the meat of my forearm. An explosion of red splattered onto my cheeks.
No matter.Moving on.
I leapt for my next victim, aiming for the throat to take them out quickly. As much as I wanted to methodically pummel every person targeting my female to a bloody pulp, that wasn’t efficient. Quick, clean kills were better. Later, when I was not so outnumbered, I could indulge my more primal urges.
A subset of the group noticed me and fell behind, the rest still distracted by the beast ahead. Bullets whizzed around me. One could end my life at any moment. But first, more damage. More death.
I took down as many as I could, using my opponents as shields whenever possible. Their quickly pulverized bodies only helped so much. I was taking on bullets rapidly. I’d be dying pretty-fucking-soon at this rate. I was so far from done. This wasn’t enough of a dent. I needed to do more.
Time to retreat and reassess. I can’t kill if I’m dead.
I dropped the freshest corpse from my hands and bolted.
My body spasmed and twitched as it absorbed more lead. Breathing burned. It was a fucking miracle my heart was still beating and my skull was intact. My arms had taken the worst of the blows, one hung limply at my side no matter how much I tried to will it into moving.
I found a tree trunk to lean against while I caught my breath and regained my composure. I estimated that I’d cleared twenty percent of the problem. Hopefully, my three good arms were enough to get me through the last eighty percent. If my head and chest stayed in one piece I could fight. I wouldn’t let something as silly as bleeding to death cost Vivian her freedom.
The shooting quieted in the distance.
“What the fuck happened?!” a woman shouted.
“Feral Quadmos! He—he just attacked and then disappeared!”
“Should we find him, sir?”
“No need,” Gable replied calmly. “He’ll be where we’re going.”
Ihatedthat he knew exactly who I was, what I was doing, and where I’d be. My mate was their objective, and I’d be protecting her to the death. My cards were laid flat on the table.
“What’s the damage?”
“Twelve, sir.”
“Twelve,” he repeated softly. “Maybe now that your peers have started dying, you’ll heed my advice and stop shooting at beasts that can’t hurt you. Keep an ear out for what can andwill.” His voice had risen to address the entire squadron. A hint of disdain punctuated his words.
I wanted him to sound afraid. Even ahintof trepidation in his voice would bolster me. But no. His confidence was a reminder that he didn’t see a world where he lost. Twelve men down? Who cares. They were the pawns. The real warriors were beside him. His protectors who shielded him for years, never batting an eye at a threat. They were the reason this journey was nothing more than a bureaucratic walk in the woods for him. In Gable’s eyes, he was untouchable.
My mouth watered. I would eat his fucking heart.
If Gable wasn’t afraid of me now, I’dmakehim afraid. I would spend my last breath ensuring that he felt so much terror he could never face this mountain again. I would be the monster that haunted his dreams for the rest of his pathetic, artificial life. He would regret the day that he targeted my mate.
This wasn’t a job; this was my reason for living. My reason for dying. Myreason. I felt every bit of that weight as I gritted my fangs through the pain and prepared for what I was about to do.
I am not Theo the hitman.
I am Theo: Guardian of Cyciciah.
And I am death incarnate.
