A piercing scream nearly shattered his eardrums. Gideon cringed, his gaze darting to the pale, shaking woman a few feet away.
“Well, damn! It actually worked.” Bemused, he held the cuff on his own wrist up in wonder.
A flash of movement at the edge of his peripheral vision was the only warning he got. A split second later, he ducked as a toaster went sailing past his head. The small appliance no more than crashed into the cupboard behind him, clattering loudly to the floor, before the Keurig followed. Dodging the latest missile, he moved to the side, tracking his charge.
Maggie dug through drawers and doors, yanking out whatever came to hand, throwing it at Gideon with all her might.
“What did you do to me?” she shouted. A handful of cooking utensils rained down upon his head and shoulders as he ducked behind a kitchen chair. A coffee mug, blessedly empty, soon followed, shattering on the floor beside him. “Where am I? How did you get me here?”
“Now, just calm down—”
A large butcher’s blade imbedded itself in the cabinet door near his head with a resounding thud. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! Where am I?” she yelled as she grabbed hold of a frying pan and let it fly. It clipped his shoulder. Her aim was improving.
This shit was so not what he’d signed up for.
“Sebastian!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “You rotten bastard, get down here!” He dodged a cutting board, batting it aside with his forearm. That was going to leave a bruise. Couldn’t the Demon of Vengeance hear Maggie destroying his kitchen? Where the hell was he?
Pulling his phone from his back pocket, trying semisuccessfully to stay out of her line of fire, he punched in Sebastian’s speed dial number. It went straight to voicemail. The bastard. He’d done this on purpose.
He tried Mikhail next. Also voicemail. He hadn’t really expected anything else, but he was desperate and had to give it a try.
He thumbed in Xander’s number, and he waited, tense and alert for the next projectile. A drawer was jerked out so hard it crashed to the floor, and all the while, she aimed a furious verbal tirade at his head.
“Yeah?” The crackle and hiss of plasma balls echoed over the phone line, mingling with Xander’s ragged breathing.
“I have the Halfling.” A spatula slapped his cheek. “Son of a—”
“You want a medal?” Xander’s harsh voice rasped over the line.
Asshole. “I want somebody to come get her. We’re at the farm, but Sebastian isn’t here.”
“I’m busy,” Xander snapped. A second later, a loud explosion on Xander’s end caused Gideon to jerk the phone from his ear for a moment.
“But—”
“Got a shitstorm going on here. You actually need something, or d’you just call to whine?”
“Look, where’s Kyanna? I’ll take the Halfling to her and—”
“No!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Every demon tied to this rebellion is going to be gunning for that Halfling. Probably any angel that catches wind of her existence too. You are not bringing that danger to my woman’s door. No.”
The line went dead.
Despite the fact that Kyanna herself was a Guardian of one of the Sacred Relics, experienced in the ways of angelic enchantments and all manner of mystical protections, Xander, the Demon Slayer, guarded her more fiercely than a mother bear with a lone cub. If Xander had hidden Kyanna away, you’d have better luck stumbling over the Crown Jewels on display at a sidewalk sale.
He knew then and there it’d be useless to call Niklas to ask for Carly’s help. Niklas was every bit as protective of his own mate as Xander was his. Damn it.
Desperation clawed at him. He tried Sebastian’s phone one more time.
“Yo.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“Great Falls, Michigan. The lead was a bust.” The bastard sounded perturbed. Good.
Gideon snarled. “Why aren’t you here?”
“Still chasing after the new Guardian. Got a fresh lead,” Sebastian said.
He didn’t give two shits about some new Guardian of the Sword of Kathnesh. The sword was a lost cause. The old Guardian hadn’t done his job. The new Guardian didn’t even have anything to guard. Gideon already had the Halfling, for the love of Saint Peter. Capturing her had been shockingly easy, thanks to the three demons that’d shown up at the nightclub. Granted, she was currently off the rails and desperately needed subduing. Something he couldn’t do, compliments of his curse. He needed help. Now. “I have the Halfling. We’re at the farm. You need to come take care of her.”
Crouched behind the table, Gideon raked a hand through his hair. To hell with his so-called brothers and their fickle loyalty. What had he done to deserve this? A series of plates shattered against the countertop beside him. Gideon scooted out of the way, swearing beneath his breath as shards of broken dishes rained down upon him.