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‘Good. I want whoever took her. It’s my kill.’
They all nod so he turns Atlas towards the door. ‘Let’s go.’
Less than a minute later Atlas lands at the coordinates beside the others, stamping his hooves impatiently on the ground, as Nick closes his eyes and tries to get himself together. He doesn't feel right.
‘What’s wrong?’ Damon asks as he joins Nick.
‘I don’t know. My head is all over the place.’
‘It’s the way I had to wake you,’ Reve says, keeping his attention on their surroundings. ‘I told him it could mess with your head.’ Reve glares over at Damon.
‘We didn’t have a choice,’ Damon says.
‘Enough!’ Nick doesn’t care who did what. He just wants to find Scarlett and get back to bed - ideally with her beside him. He checks his guns and sword are in place, then takes a deep breath. He’s fought in worse physical condition, but the exhaustion is a whole other issue. He can ignore pain. Has done too many times to count. But he’s never fought the day after his Christmas run. It’s going to make things interesting.
Nick glances around at his team. He’s not thrilled at the concern he sees in their faces. It’s his job to look out for them, not the other way around. ‘We ready?’
‘Always,’ Jokul replies. ‘How about you, Boss?’
‘I’m fine. Let’s do this.’
Before anyone else can ask if he’s up to doing his job, he gestures for them to spread out. Flint takes up the rear on his own horse with Nick and Atlas at the front. When they step out of the clearing, Nick curses. He was expecting Krampus, a few dozen Púca, and Scarlett. Instead there must be at least a hundred of the bastards. No Krampus.
And no Scarlett.
‘What now?’ Reve asks from beside him.
‘We’re not going to get much conversation from these assholes.’
Damon’s laugh from his other side is downright scary. ‘I guess we’re heading into a bloodbath then.’ He twirls his blades in his hands as he releases his wings. ‘I’m looking forward to this.’
Nick would prefer not to lead his team into the bloodbath that Damon is so excited about. No choice though. Especially when the Púca slowly circle them, closing them in.
They stand facing the Púca, waiting for someone to make the first move. Something is off about this whole thing. The Púca should have attacked by now, but apart from a lot of serious staring, no one moves.
Jok spins his staff in his hand. ‘If this were a scene in a movie, you’d be screamingit’s a trapat the screen, wondering what the fuck the good guys are still standing around for.’
Nick couldn’t agree more. ‘Time to get this moving so we can figure out how much shit we’re actually in.’
But he doesn’t get a chance to open his mouth to give the command. The Púca move as one, launching themselves at the team.
