“Killing is second nature to him. It’s like breathing. Once Hugh decides someone has to die, he does it. There is no doubt.”
“We’ve dealt with killers before,” Savannah said.
“Not like this.” She wasn’t explaining it well, three fourths of her attention on trying to narrow down the feeling that brought her here. “Hugh has more magic than he lets on and he is very skilled. He’s trained beyond anything I’ve seen.”
Savannah raised one eyebrow at her.
“He threw me out of his dreams.”
Elara had glimpsed something in those dreams. A twisted maelstrom inside Hugh, made of guilt, shame, and pain. He’d torn it open for her to show her his memories.
Savannah startled. “We shouldn’t have made this alliance.”
“We had no choice. It doesn’t matter now. The die is cast. Now we just have to make sure he remains on our side. We—"
Elara, glorious one, shining one, have mercy on me in my hour of need.
An influx of power flowed into Elara. She jerked as if burned.
“What is it?” Savannah thrust herself into Elara’s view.
I’m dying. Hear my plea. Hear my prayer.
“Elara?”
She jerked her hand up, silencing Savannah.
She’d forbade it, but here it was, a prayer, stretching to her like a barely existing lifeline.
Please save us. Please. I’ll do anything.
She reached along that lifeline. It led her into the woods into the dark night, where a desperate man ran for his life.
I beg you, shining one. Please help. Please don’t let them get us.
Alex. Alex Tong. He was running through the woods, from the north. She saw him, a gently glowing shape, so weak. He was bleeding. He didn’t have long.
They killed all of us. Everyone is dead.
A vision hit her, hot and raging. Rows of bodies laid out in the street, nightmarish creatures scuttling, and soldiers in scale armor looking over it all. A hundred people slaughtered. The scent of blood and fear, stark blinding terror that twisted her insides. She jerked away from it before it dragged her under.
Please help me. I’m scared. They’re coming, and I don’t want to die.
Alex Tong lived in Redhill, one of the settlements that rejected their offer of wards. Her people had just come from it the day before yesterday.
Elara snapped back to reality, holding on to the fragile thread of magic with her mind.
“Redhill was attacked.”
“When? Who?”
She shook her head and ran down the stairs. They had very little time. If she went after Alex, she would reach him, but he wouldn’t survive. She had to get Hugh and she had to extract him out of that damn dinner without raising any alarms. They didn’t know what was chasing Alex, although she could make a pretty good guess, and being attacked now would sever their relations with Rufus.
Elara took a deep breath and forced herself to walk slowly into the hall. The dinner was winding down. She wove her way around the table, came up behind Hugh, and draped herself over him, making sure to mash her breasts against his shoulder.
“Hi.” Hugh glanced up at her and grinned. It was the kind of grin that would make a professional escort blush.
She leaned closer and brushed a kiss on his mouth. His lips were hot and dry. His hand reached into her hair. She pulled away slightly. “Do you think I can borrow you for a few minutes?”
He caught a strand of her hair between his fingers. “I think we can work something out.”
She smiled at Rufus and the guardsmen. “Excuse us, gentlemen.”
Hugh winked at Rufus and let her lead him out of the hall by hand. Behind them the Red Guard leader chuckled. “Newlyweds.”
Elara drew him into the hallway. As soon as they were out of sight, he spun her around. “Who died?”
“Dying. Redhill was attacked.”
Hugh’s eyes turned dark. “The scale mail pricks?”
“Yes. They massacred it. One man escaped. A boy. He used to be Radion’s apprentice, but he liked a girl in Redhill and left with her.”
Hugh’s eyes turned darker. “Where is he?”
“Running through the woods toward us. I can find him, but I can’t heal him. He’s barely hanging on. If we wait any longer, he won’t make it.”
Hugh was already moving to the exit.
Elara anchored her magic and pulled herself forward, tracing the faint line of Alex’s prayer. He was still whispering to her under his breath, begging, his voice fading. The tree trunks flew at her.
Behind her Bucky charged through the forest along a narrow trail. The giant horse shouldn’t have been able to run in the woods in the dark, but Bucky pushed on like he was part deer. A weak radiance sheathed his flanks. He almost glowed silver.
She paused, waiting for them to catch up. Expending magic that quickly would cost her, but for now only Alex mattered.
Hugh caught up. She stepped again, then again, moving trunk to trunk.
The line of the prayer anchoring her to the man faded. She stepped again, fast and desperate, in the direction it had come from. Bushes, rhododendron, thick trunks, forest floor, all steeped in shadow.
Where was he? He had to be somewhere around here. Before he fell silent, she was almost on top of him.
“Alex,” she whispered, sending her voice in a wide pulse. It flew through the woods. “I’m here. I’ve heard you. Speak to me…”
Nothing. Bucky burst out of the bushes next to her and Hugh brought him up short. The big horse turned in a circle, as Hugh surveyed the forest.
“Speak to me…”
…
“…shining one…”
He was right in front of her. She dove through the patch of rhododendron, forcing her way through the brush, and burst out on the other side. Oaks thrust from the forest floor, too thick to wrap her arms around. The moon shone above and the air between the trees glowed slightly with a bluish haze.
Alex lay slumped by the roots of the nearest tree. He was always thin, with a slight build, but now he seemed barely a boy, fourteen instead of his eighteen. He didn’t move. His eyes were closed, his head drooped to the side. She dropped to her knees. Blood drenched his clothes, the fabric a solid mass of red.
Where was the wound? She could barely see him, let alone the injury.
Hugh knelt by her. A blue glow sheathed him. She’d seen glimpses of it before in the fight, but now it was obvious, a dense, rich blue, almost turquoise, the magic within it alive and strong, like a river. Hugh’s eyes glowed with the same electric blue.
The glow stretched from Hugh’s hand, sheathing Alex’s body.
She felt movement and looked up. Shadows moved through the blue haze between the trees. Humanoid shadows.
They’d massacred Redhill. They’d killed everyone there, men, women, children. Now they were coming after one of hers.
No.
“You got it?” Hugh asked.
“Yeah,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’ve got it.”
She rose and walked through the forest toward the advancing shapes, making no effort to hide. Creatures slipped through the brush on both sides of her.
A warrior stepped out of the haze twenty-five yards away. As tall as Hugh, he wore scale armor and a helmet that left his face bare. Tattoos marked his cheek. His long red hair spilled in a horse tail through an opening in his helmet and fell down his back.
He was a distraction. Bait. Elara stared at him, waiting. If he had a bow and fired, she could avoid the arrows. But a crossbow bolt travelled a lot faster and would prove to be a problem.
A creature darted from the right, impossibly fast. She locked her hand on its throat. It hung in her hand, limp. It used to be human, but now the corruption suffused it, twisting its very essence. It wasn’t the fetid stench of a vampire, reanimated after death. This was a living alteration and it left this beast with a shred of humanity hidden deep inside. Elara locked on the hot spark of magic within its body and swallowed it. It tasted delicious as only a human did. The lifeless sack of bone and muscle fell to the ground.
There were three warriors now. Same armor, same helmets, same swords in the scabbards on their hips. All three big men, the shortest only three inches or so under Hugh’s height. They watched her, mute. No bows then. All the better.