Sweet Ruin(59)

Rune? A killer from the shadows and a whore.

“Just as the Møriør are limbs of one entity, that bow must become a part of you.” Strolling on, Orion had said, “Remove the leathers from your hands.”

His archery guards? Rune had called, “My fingertips will be shredded.”

Without turning back, Orion had spoken into his mind. —Did you think to become the Archer without pain?—

Rune roused from his memory when Sian gave his fearsome roar.

Battle on.

Sian and Blace began tearing through that army’s ranks with little resistance. Rune loosed strategic arrows to cover the two, though they had no need of help. From the icy forest beyond, Darach howled, fresh on the trail of something.

Within a quarter of an hour, victory was nigh.

—Shoot the bonedeath, Rune!— Blace commanded. —West flank.—

Rune plucked a white arrow from his quiver.

Allixta warily said, —You’ve configured those magicks to make Møriør immune?— She was understandably nervous.

—You’ll soon find out.— Rune drew his bow to the limit, aiming for a boulder in the rocky field below. He adjusted for winds, gauging the direction with the sensitive tips of his ears.

Silent, he let fly his arrow.

It sliced through the air. When it implanted in stone, the icy rock exploded.

Waves of heat and pressure expanded from the target, scorching snow, striking the closest demons, then sweeping out farther for miles.

All around Sian and Blace, demons fell to their knees with yells of anguish as their bodies broke and broke. Soon their bones were dust, and they could only writhe on the ground. None would regenerate; each would become an immortal burden on what was left of his people.

The battle was over. The bonedeath always ensured a decisive—and talked about—victory.

Watching his enemies helplessly squirm made Rune even more unsettled! He understood why this needed to be done; the show of force would cow enemies and prevent future conflicts. Besides, if the Møriør didn’t prevail, all these demons would be dead anyway.

But he didn’t relish this.

Nïx had described the Møriør as pure evil, an alliance of monsters and devils. That malicious Valkyrie had long allied with the fey; would she have deemed the outwardly beautiful Magh a monster?

Sian and Blace traced from the devastation and rejoined them with grave faces. No one would celebrate this as a victory.

Rune strapped on his bow. —I wonder why Orion didn’t merely destroy this dimension in the palm of his hand.—

Dear gods, had Rune spoken that to the others?

Apparently. Orion materialized that moment, his uncanny gaze boring into Rune. Tonight, the Undoing resembled a demon, a gruesome one like Sian’s twin Goürlav had been. Standing over twelve feet tall, Orion had thick-plated skin, two rows of horns, and dripping fangs. But his chilling black eyes were the same. —This demonarchy has strategic value and is filled with resources. Do you harbor other doubts, archer?—

Feigning nonchalance, Rune shrugged. —None, my liege. If I’ve discharged my duty here, I’ll take my leave.—

—By all means,— Orion said, his demonic expression giving away nothing.

Rune was tempted to return to Josephine, but he couldn’t predict his behavior. His hunt for Nïx wouldn’t resume until night fell in New Orleans. Only one thing left to do.

He traced to the Dryads, his favorite nymph covey. They lived in a hollowed-out tree as large as an apartment building. Each nymph had her own quarters, her “nest.” They were spread throughout the interior of the tree’s limbs. The main gathering area was a bar at the base of the trunk.

When he appeared inside, nymphs cheered his arrival. They were all topless, their voluptuous bodies painted with leaf designs. Amber jewels adorned them.

The other males present scowled, knowing Rune had just skipped them in line.

“Well, hello, doves.” He cast the nymphs his wickedest grin. They crowded around him, fawning, hoping to be chosen.

This was what he’d needed! He’d already fucked most of them, which meant they craved a repeat.

Josephine, however, had woken from a night in his bed with one question on her lips: Will you really let me leave?

Here, he was the best choice, the ultimate for any female to enjoy. Here, he had one worry: deciding which nymphs to honor with his dick.

Second best? Not among these beauties.





TWENTY-NINE




“Rune?” Jo called when she woke in his bed alone. She tested her body, moving her arms and legs.

She was totally healed! Time to return to New Orleans.

Yet Rune didn’t answer. She rose, gazing down at her many bandages. He’d cared for her. So where was he?