He scowled, as if she’d asked a stupid question.
They were being hunted, obviously, but… “How would they have found out we were here so quickly? They must be hunting something else, and we were unlucky enough to get caught up in their hunt.”
“Maybe.” But he didn’t sound convinced.
“Could they be after you?”
He immediately shook his head. “Doubtful.”
She snorted at his cockiness. “Why do you say that?”
His eyes flickered toward her for a few seconds, as if he was debating what he should say. “I’ve been in the void for a long time.”
When she opened her mouth, a sarcastic retort ready, he lifted his hand for silence. Despite both of them having supernatural speed, their pursuers were faster. They were slowly being circled.
“I’ll slow them down.” He dropped into a fighting stance, waving for her to keep going. “Don’t stop.”
This was her chance.
She could leave, open a portal without him interfering, and get back to the guys.
Morgan took a step away, but couldn’t make herself abandon the strange man.
He wouldn’t be able to hold off their attackers on his own.
They had a better chance of surviving together.
Damn her stupid conscience.
As if in agreement with her decision, her cuff and rings melted down. It only took seconds for her blades to form. Though her knives were more deadly than any gun in this world, she couldn’t help wishing for the familiar weight of her firearm. “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that.”
He scowled at her. “I’m a warden. You must obey me.”
Morgan snorted. “Does that really work?”
“I’m your superior. You will obey.” He waited for her to follow his edict.
“Yeah, not happening.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t run from a fight.”
He opened his mouth to argue—more like make another demand—when the first hunters emerged from the trees.
They were not what she was expecting.
They weren’t monsters…they were elves.
She wanted to say they reminded her of Atlas, but she would be wrong. While Atlas was cool and aloof, these guys must have had icicles rammed up their asses. Their hair was a pale blond, the long strands in perfect order. Despite marching through the forest and hunting prey, not a piece of clothing was out of alignment or dared even wrinkle. Their pale blue eyes were cold and assessing as they circled them. One touch would probably cause frostbite.
She didn’t have any expectations of friendship. A good thing, too, since the elves pulled their weapons, moving like a single unit that must have taken years to perfect.
A trace of magic wove in the air, and Morgan was startled to realize it came from the warden. She felt stupid for not realizing sooner that although he could manipulate the magic in the void, it wasn’t his original magic.
The air around him became charged, the need for violence a physical thing she struggled to contain.
It wasn’t her need.
It was his.
A call to battle that was hard to deny.
She felt invincible, which was a dangerous thing in battle.
It could get a person killed.
A feverish glimmer entered his eyes, colors bled from them until they were once again black with silver specks gleaming in their depths. He looked untouchable, ready to spread murder and mayhem wherever he went. Only grim determination kept him focused, kept him from launching into action.
The warden came toward her at a rush, his arm outstretched. She tightened her grip on her weapons, uncertain what to expect. When his palm hit her chest, she stumbled backwards, a splash of unfamiliar magic wrapping around her.
Before she could figure out a way to fight it, the world tilted and dropped away, leaving her free-falling for a few seconds, until the ground smacked the bottom of her feet. She stumbled. By the time she regained her footing, the world around her had changed, and she was alone.
Chapter Five
Morgan might still be in the forest, but the bastard had somehow managed to transport her.
She wanted to say he tossed her through the void, but the explanation was too simple. It was as if he moved her from one spot to the next, teleporting her without passing her through the void, effectively blocking her from stopping him.
“You son of a bitch!”
The bastard didn’t even have the courtesy to transport himself with her so she could smack him.
No doubt trying to protect her.
When would the men in her life learn that she didn’t need their help? She wanted to stand next to them in a fight, not cowering behind the idiots.
Even worse, that kind of treatment reinforced her fear that she would never be more than an outsider.
The strange energy faded, her battle rage easing a bit with the distance. She could still feel the thirst for blood sing in her veins, the call to battle, although the need to do violence reluctantly dwindled, and fragments of her reasoning returned.
Whatever species the warden was, he was very dangerous, and a type of being she had never encountered before.
Morgan glanced around her, not sure which direction to take, when she heard the faint sounds of fighting coming from behind her.
She whirled and dodged between the trees, almost taking a header into a large trunk, when she twisted to avoid trampling over a net pinned to the ground. A squawk of outrage came from a dowdy bird caught under the trap, one she barely missed squashing. “So you’re what they were hunting.”
The bird wasn’t remarkable in any way, a drab brown, and no bigger than the size of her palm. The way the bird glared at her and puffed out its chest led her to believe he was a male, reminding her of Ascher strutting around in his hellhound form. Why would half a dozen men be sent out to hunt such a small bird? The sounds of battle still rang in her ears, but the sharp intelligence in the bird’s eyes stopped her from leaving.
“I can’t just leave you here for those bastards.” Huffing a sigh in frustration, Morgan crouched, but when she touched the netting the skin of her fingertips burned, and she quickly jerked back. “Those assholes. No wonder you can’t escape.”
When she curled her fingers into a fist, the metal reacted so fast it looked like she grabbed the knife out of thin air. Careful to keep her fingers out of the way, she used the tip of the blade to cut through the delicate netting. Whatever the material, it definitely wasn’t man-made. Though the obsidian blade was created from the primordial realm, and supposedly stronger and deadlier than any other weapon, the knife met resistance as she sawed through the rope.
It was like trying to slice through thin strands of metal.
It took nearly a minute to slice through the first one.
By the time she managed to cut through enough of the ropes to free the bird, her fingers were singed black and her fingertips numb.
“Time to go.”
But instead of flying away, the bird only hobbled awkwardly, his wing twisted at an odd angle.
He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
She didn’t have time to linger—she needed to get back to help the warden—but she couldn’t leave the bird helpless, either. They would catch him in seconds.
When she reached forward to set his wing, he snapped his little beak at her fingers, squawking at her in outrage.
“Look, I’m going to set your wing, but we need to hurry. If you try to bite me again, I’ll leave you here for them to find.” She felt stupid for talking to a bird, but he cocked his head like he understood, then slowly extended his crumpled wing.
“Holy shit.”
Light caught the down near the base of the wing shaft, the brown feathers shimmering slightly with a bright yellow metallic color. No wonder he didn’t want her to touch him. He was guarding a secret.