“You guys get invited to the best games.” She shook her head and sighed dramatically. “I leave you alone for one second, and you get into trouble.”
Draven shot her a wink when she tossed their words back at them. Once she was surrounded, she gave them her report, conscious of Katar’s minions flooding the arena. “Be on guard. Don’t trust anyone. Katar doesn’t want to find a cure for the fog, he wants to finish the job of breaking open the seal of Tartarus. What did you find?”
“Loki managed to help the kid and a few of the imprisoned hellhounds escape. Unfortunately, we were unconscious for most of the time and didn’t get a chance to collect any information.” Kincade studied her, his eyes lingering on her face. “Are you okay?”
“Mostly.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat at his gentle tone. “Katar infected Atlas. Don’t let the bastard near you if you can help it.”
The guys stiffened, and she noted that Kincade and Draven pocketed their weapons. Katar came charging through the gates, his robes churning around him in agitation. “Do you realize what you risked?”
Katar pulled up short when none of the men surrounding her scattered the way he expected. He carried a chain in his hand, tugging Ward behind him like a stray dog. Though Katar might not know it, he was playing with dynamite. It wouldn’t be long before Ward lost his cool, collar or no collar.
“You could’ve been killed.” He thrust an accusing finger at her. There was no heat in his accusation, just a murderous rage that she would dare threaten what he wanted. “You are not allowed to take such risks. You put the whole plan at risk.”
“Your plan.” Morgan shoved at Kincade until he moved. “I told you I wouldn’t leave without my men.”
“Very well.” Katar pursed his lips, his eyes narrowed, and she half expected him to kill her men to spite her. “We will leave now.”
Morgan wanted to protest that her men needed medical care, but she feared if she pushed Katar, he would take care of the issue by eliminating the problem. Ascher and Ryder had turned human and were offered clothing. Morgan knew she should give them privacy, but she couldn’t let them out of her sight. She needed the reassurance they were really all right.
As they exited the stadium and headed toward the edge of the village, she was surprised by the number of soldiers traveling with them.
“Do you really think they will protect you from the fog?”
“I took the last of my elixir. The soldiers are already infected. The fog will avoid them and search for new prey. They are to ensure your participation.” Katar was positively giddy, but she recognized the pure nerves underlying his excitement. This was his last shot. He knew he was dying, and it made him dangerous.
The decay had traveled down Katar’s arm, spreading across the back of his hand. The skin had slackened, beginning to slough off his hand, giving him a bloated, waxy look of a body soaked too long in stagnant water.
“If you live that long.”
He clenched his hand, then shook it out. “Once we reach Tartarus, it won’t matter. After I heal myself and this land, I’ll be appointed the new king.”
Unfortunately, the kingdom was run by succession, meaning if he managed to kill the current king, she would be placed on the throne, and she couldn’t allow that to happen.
The guys shared a look with her…they were in accord.
None of them wanted to rule either.
“And the soldiers? You don’t think they’ll run at the first opportunity?” Morgan was skeptical.
“Where would they go?” He waved a dismissive hand at the soldiers, like they didn’t matter. “If they want a cure, they will do what I say.”
Her men kept her tightly surrounded. As the sun rose over the horizon, very little of the light actually hit the land. What she did see reminded her of a dark wonderland. The colors were a shade too vivid, the trees and even the grass a little too predatory. Even the innocent flowers snapped at them, emitting a noxious gas as they passed.
Everything felt hungry and primitive, a very alien feeling since she was used to being the apex predator. The fog trailed them through the forest, but it was as Katar said…the mist kept its distance, coming forward to investigate, then retreating when it found only the infected.
Katar went to speak with the guards, giving instructions, and Kincade scowled after him. “Why are we not killing him?”
“If you kill him, she dies.” Atlas’s voice was flat, hatred burning in his eyes. “He marked her with a sigil. Any harm that comes to him will be visited on her.”
“If things don’t go as planned, you have my permission to do whatever needs to be done. He cannot be allowed to gain the power of the gods.”
“No.” Ryder growled in denial, and the rest of the guys nodded.
They weren’t going to budge.
“You forget.” Ascher tentatively brushed his hand against hers as they walked, seemingly absorbed in the task of playing with her fingers. “Our focus is you. We will protect you above everything else.”
“And to hell with the realm?” she snarked at him in amusement.
“Yes.” His blunt reply floored her.
Her humor died, leaving her floundering over how to respond when the rest of the guys appeared to be in complete agreement. Warmth flooded her cheeks, the pleasure at their confession leaving her flustered. She absently scratched the sigil on her shoulder, unused to having anyone care. And she wanted a future with them so badly, she didn’t argue the point.
They would find another way to stop Katar.
She refused to give up her men when she was so close to having everything she’d ever wanted…a family to call her own.
Desperate to change the subject, she brought up the question that had been nagging at her. “How is one supposed to locate Tartarus? I mean, technically, it’s the entrance to hell, right?”
When she glanced around at them, she frowned, then counted the soldiers who accompanied them. “Since we’ve started, we’ve lost three soldiers. Katar swore they wouldn’t run off. Did anyone see what happened?”
The remaining soldiers heard her question and began to look around nervously. Even as she watched, a low-hanging vine dropped around one guy, coiling around him like a snake, muffling his scream, then pulling him clear into the air, his feet kicking as he left the ground.
Everyone glanced up to see a nest of naga infesting the treetops. Half human, half snake they little resembled the beautiful women reportedly entrusted with the divine knowledge of the gods. The infection had reverted them back to their purely predatory mode.
Their heads were slightly flared like a cobra’s hood, the colors bright and rippling like hair when they tipped their heads and gazed down at them. Sparkling jewelry and glittering chains draped over their necks and foreheads, providing little modesty, but she suspected they wore the jewelry because they liked the shiny metals and jewels more than to provide any type of modesty. Venom dripped from their fangs as they licked their lips, their swaying movements hypnotic as they slowly twirled and twisted through the trees, oozing ever closer to their prey. Two of them played tug-of-war with one of the men they captured like a macabre game of wishbone.
When bones cracked and the man gave a muffled scream, Morgan snapped to attention. “Run!”
To make sure she obeyed her own command, Kincade and Draven bookended her, ensuring she kept up with them as they stormed through the tangle of undergrowth, leaping over discarded bones littering the ground in abundance.
Unfortunately, due to their panic, most of the soldiers scattered in different directions. Those with training managed to evade in small groups and follow. Those cut off from the crowd and separated weren’t so lucky, as one after another was plucked into the air as if by magic.