Wounded(17)

Life was about to get real ugly for the demon ogres, at least, that was what I was hoping. Fog rolled in around them and where it touched, ogres froze. Not all of them, but enough that I could see the fog was doing something to them. An undertone of screaming, faint echoes of voices trapped and now freed curled up through the air, tangling with the fog.

Those ogres possessed by evil spirits and not actual demons were no longer controlled by Orion. Doran had come through.

I opened my mouth to yell to tell them they’d been fooled and their friends could not be saved. But I didn’t need to.

Those ogres released from the evil spirits fell on those who were truly possessed.

“I don’t understand what’s happening, why are they fighting now?” Eve called out. Erik answered her.

“Evil spirits can be expelled, they don’t attach to the soul of the creature they possess like a demon does.” Simple, yet still horrifying to think of a soul being latched onto by a demon.

Madness, total and complete, erupted as the ogres attacked one another. My heart sank as I watched the bodies pile and the number of the dead rise, and it was not on the side of those who’d been freed.

Erik and his ride, an odd-looking silvery gray harpy, caught up to us. “The weak ones are free, but they will be dead soon. We have to get the hell out of here.”

He was right, this was a lost cause and we had to give way, much as it sucked shit.

“Eve, how far behind are the rest of the harpies?”

“They are on their way to London.”

Her words stuck in my brain and I struggled to speak. “How could they have known?” Were they in on it? Shit, was I going to have to check every person who came within our close-knit circle?

“They have seers.” She turned her head so I could see the chagrin in one eye. “I argued with them, told them they were needed here but they insisted they would meet us in London.”

“Don’t feel bad.” I put a hand on her neck. “I would have done the same thing, argued ‘til I was blue in the face.”

The silver harpy swept in close, his baritone startling the shit out of me. “She made a good argument.”

I cranked around in my seat to stare at the first male harpy I’d ever met. Now that I was looking at him, I could see the differences. He was far thicker in the legs, body and neck, and his face didn’t have the feminine lines Eve did. His eyes were pale, a gray blue that would have disappeared if not for the black feathers around them like a mask.

“Zorro, how are you?” I blurted.

The male harpy chuckled, surprising me. “I see where Eve got her sass. My name is Marco.”

The two harpies banked at the same time as we dropped from the sky, right into Doran’s courtyard. Pamela was crouched over Liam’s body. Everything in me tensed, even though Tracking Liam I knew he was still alive. But barely.

I jumped from Eve’s back before she had fully landed and ran to Liam’s side. The werewolves had retreated and were pacing around, whining. Beauty stood to one side, buck naked and leaning against Faris.

“Faris, get them all out of here. NOW,” I said, doing my best to not let my voice break.

“They wouldn’t go—how would you like me to deal with them?”

“Make them.” I curled my hands into the thick fur around Liam’s neck, trusting Faris would do as I asked. “Pamela, how bad is it?”

She lifted her eyes to mine for a split second before looking back at Liam, her hands cupping his muzzle. “Bad. It’s very bad. I can heal all the wounds except the one on his chest.”

The sound of footsteps running told me people were finally listening and going to safety. Which was good because I suspected it wouldn’t be long before what was left of the ogres was over run and we’d be dealing with some pissed off demons.

Sooner than you think. They are on their way to end us now.

“Blaz, can you stall them?”

On my way.

A whoosh of wings and the dragon let out a roar that shattered the air, pierced my ears, and made my heart pound. His battle cry stirred my own bloodlust. Seconds later, the sound of flames roaring across the open field reached us. A fire line would buy us a little time.

“Doran?”

“Nothing I can do, at least, not on my own. The blade was cursed. I’d have to have more of your blood and you have given too much as it is.” He crouched beside me and held out a copper knife with a serrated edge, fresh blood on it. Liam’s blood.

I leaned forward, Tracking Liam. Yeah, he was right there, but by Tracking him I could get a better idea of how bad it really was.

His heart beat at a strange cadence, and his soul was slipping. I could push some of my strength into him. We’d done it before, when we were in Europe, but it had mostly been me drawing from him. But what if I could give him some of my Immunity, enough to fight off this poison, or the fucking curse or whatever it was he was dealing with?