Kyn 3: Feral (12 page)

His face set as they followed Talven out of the room, anger coiling low in his chest. It was because he was a Vampire. Had to be. Bloody Fae and their species-ism, like they were so great anyway! No doubt didn’t like a filthy Kyn hanging around the place and lowering the tone. Well, buggar them!

His temper continued to simmer as they followed the Fae down the corridor. In fact he was surprised the guy’s armour didn’t superheat under his glare.

“Hey, the wind’ll change and you’ll get stuck like that,” Tessa smiled at him, indicating his stormy expression. “You should be pleased! We did it! We got here, it’s all going to be ok,” she told him, a tired smile curving her lips.

“Yeah,” He smoothed a hand down her back absently, as much to reassure himself as her. Perhaps more to reassure himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it in as many words.

They
had
done it; evaded those damn Pixies, made it through the Night Plains, avoided getting killed or their souls sucked out or a multitude of other nasty fates. It had been a close call there with the Ogre. Closer than Feral wanted to admit. The near defeat didn’t sit well with his Warrior’s pride.

One thing was for sure, he was going to be hitting the gym and ramping up the training when he got back to the Compound. And he was definitely going to start packing heat, something big enough to take down even larger nasties like Fae monsters.

He sighed as her words sank in, a sigh of relief. She was right, he could relax now.

They just needed to get the kid back to his parents, or this noble lady they were supposed to see next and then they could get gone. Perhaps he could persuade Tessa to come back to his place, and they could finish what they’d started in that bathroom. He looped his arm over her shoulders protectively and slid her a small smile.

A smile that stopped Tessa in her tracks, his eyes full of warmth and a sensual promise that took her breath away. Her exhaustion disappeared, body coming alive as his thumb stroked over the front of her shoulder. Even fully clothed her skin tingled, a trail of fire in the wake of his thumb.

She managed to smile back, not quite sure what he could see in her at the moment.

Her clothes were rumpled and torn in places and she was splattered with black Ogre blood.

But something the smile in his eyes, the way he touched her, made her feel like the sexiest woman alive. Like the only woman alive for him.

A shiver ran up her spine as they approached yet another doorway, absently noting they’d moved further into the Court, into the private wings. Talven’s mistress must be someone important to have a suite here. Which was good, she decided. The higher up the tree this lady was, the more chance they had of getting this sorted quickly.

“Nearly home little man, you’ll see your mommy soon” she murmured in a reassuring voice, jiggling the little boy in her arms, much to his delight. He giggled as he patted her face with gentle hands. Tessa smiled, but it was a smile with a sadder edge now. He was a delightful little boy and she’d miss him, a pang of loss already forming deep in her chest.

Perhaps she could ask his parents, whoever they were, if she could visit when this was all over.

The doors ahead of them swung open soundlessly, revealing yet another torch-lit hall.

Relief and a sense of triumph filled Tessa anew as they walked in. Despite her words to Feral, she hadn’t really believed it until they were here, about to meet this Noble-lady.

They had done it, actually made a difference! It was like something out of a Hollywood blockbuster. Beat the bad guys, save the world (or the baby in this case) and the good guy always got the girl.

She slid a covert glance sideways at Feral under her lashes. Or the girl got the guy, which she very much intended to be doing once they both showered to get this Ogre blood off. It bloody reeked, the stench rising from the black stains on her clothes and making her wrinkle her nose. She might not even wait until he was finished though. She might just join him in the shower and jump his bones then and there.

Lost in her own increasingly erotic daydreams, it took Tessa a moment to realise something was wrong. Feral’s expression was tight, the look in his eyes one she recognised despite their brief acquaintance. It was the one he wore when the shit was about to hit the fan in a big way.

“Feral?” she murmured as she edged closer.

He was already dropping his arm as she spoke, freeing his hands up to go for his blades. As soon as they’d stepped through the door it had started to swing shut behind them, trapping them inside.

That had been when he’d felt it. The wrongness. Something that shouldn’t have been here in the light and beauty of a place like this. Something that belonged in the darkness of the shadows. Something that was hiding itself, like rot buried in an apple’s core.

His senses on high alert he scanned the room, eyes flitting from Fae to Fae, trying to isolate the feeling. He might not be able to see through Fae glamour as he’d previously thought but there were some things you just couldn’t hide from a vampire. And the need for blood was one of them.

There was another blood drinker in the room.

His eyes narrowed as he assessed the feeling. No, it wasn’t quite the same sort of feeling he got when he was around other Kyn. That was more a pleasant buzz against his mind. An awareness. This was harsher, more abrasive. Not awareness, a warning.

Like the feeling he got around the Rogue, the extra unpleasant edge added by their taste for not just blood but flesh as well. His face paled a little as he made the connections.

It wasn’t just the Rogue that liked blood and flesh… so did Demonkind.

“Well, well. I suppose I should thank you for bringing the brat to me. Finally,” A female voice broke the silence of the hall. A voice that should have been beautiful if not for the bitter note corrupting it. “However, you’ve caused me a lot of trouble so I don’t think I will,”

The speaker rounded one of the Grecian columns flanking the walls, her eyes fixed on the three of them with venom. She was tiny, a slender wisp of a woman, with an almost childlike aura about her. But the expression on her face was very adult. Bitterness, lust, arrogance all combined into a look that made Tessa just uncomfortable looking at her … she sucked in a breath, recognising one of the older Fae. Ilia, third of the fabled seven sisters, the seven princesses of the Fae.

“God no,” The blood drained from her face as Pixies emerged from the columns as well, fanning out behind their mistress.

“It was you all along,” Her heart lurched. This shouldn’t be happening, not here! This was the Court, they were supposed to be safe here!

“Well, looks like the Pixie bitch
finally
worked it out! Not the sharpest tool in the box are you love?” Ilia commented scornfully. “Ok, I’m bored with this. Guards, seize them!”

Tessa screamed as the Fae surrounded them one side, swords drawn, and the Pixies the other, their weapons of choice various switchblades and daggers, all glinting menacingly in the flickering torch-light. She moved closer to Feral, instinctively looking to him for protection, even though she knew they were sunk. A sense of disgust filled her. She was supposed to be a modern woman, yet the first sign of trouble and she was relying on a guy to look out for her. Her spine straightened, a hard light entering her eyes as she shifted Spud more securely onto her hip. They were done for, there was no getting out of this one. Not just the two of them against dozens.

But that didn’t mean she was going make it easy for them. She should have held onto that baseball bat.

“I could learn to hate Fae just as much as Pixies at this rate,” Feral growled, his blades on his hands in the blink of an eye. He moved, easily sliding into a guard position as he eyed the grim faced men surrounding them.

“Ok, which one of you wants to bleed out on the floor first?” he snarled, “More than enough for everyone so if you’d like to form an orderly queue, Doctor Pain will begin morning surgery,” He lifted his hand and beckoned to the nearest Pixie. A ‘bring it on’

gesture.

The Pixie spluttered with rage, his face flushed as he raised his arm and charged.

Feral didn’t move, waiting until he could practically smell the guy's breath. When he did move it was in an explosion of speed. He dropped to the floor and swept a hard leg around at his opponents. The Pixie hit the ground hard, all the wind knocked out of him. He never got the chance to regain his feet, Feral rolled and using his body as a ramp to launch himself to his feet. His bladed knuckles buried themselves nonchalantly in the Pixie’s throat, shredding his windpipe beyond repair.

Then the fight was on in earnest, Feral spinned and whirled like a prima ballerina on crack as he fought off several opponents at once. There was nothing like several someone’s seriously trying to put an end to your life to sharpen your senses and reaction times and Feral had trained on the best circuit there was. Fighting the Rogue a slow Kyn Warrior was a dead one. One as old as Feral was had to be fast, there was no other way around it. He dodged and weaved with all that speed, using his sheer size and the amount of damage he could suck up to his advantage.

He fought with everything, not just the blades on his hands but with his whole body. A rolling, moving, whirling dervish leaving violence in his wake; elbows rammed into throats hard enough to crush larynx’s, feet slammed into kneecaps hard enough to shatter them or used to stomp on feet, fingers or any other body part unfortunate enough to end up on the floor or within range.

But quite possibly the worse weapon he had were his fangs. Fully extended in his rage they were a fearsome sight. Razor sharp and dripping with blood as he took chunks out of anything that came close enough.

Tessa fought like a madwoman not to get separated from either Feral or the baby, lashing out with her free hand and feet as two knights made out to grab her. She became a wildcat, slippery as an eel, heart pounding as she used all the self defence moves she could remember from the short course she’d done at work a couple of years ago.

Shifting her weight she drove an elbow into the ribs of the one behind her, stomping heavily on his foot at the same time. A satisfying ‘oomph’ sounded behind her. Mail might look pretty and be effective against sharp pointy things but when it came to determination and an expertly wielded elbow, it didn’t stop the wearer getting winded.

Without thinking about it she reached for the hand at her throat, slender fingers dancing over the thick ones digging painfully into her flesh. Wincing she grasped the little finger firmly and ripped it up, back and away from the others in a quick movement.

It cracked, a sharp sound like a twig breaking underfoot echoing in her ears. A sound swiftly drowned out by the pain-filled bellow from behind as he snatched his hands away from her, cradling the damaged one. Wasting no time Tess spun around, snapping her knee up sharply to connect heavily with his groin. She might not be a martial arts expert but there were some moves a woman knew instinctively. She smiled in satisfaction as he crumpled to the floor in his own world of pain.

Her triumph didn’t last long. Something sharp and cold kissed the side of her neck gently. She froze. Despite never having felt the sensation before, she knew that was the business edge of a sword against her delicate skin.

Things went from bad to worse from that point on. Spud was ripped from her arms, crying as he reached out for her, terrified by the rough treatment he was being subjected to.

Tessa was hauled over the floor, kicking and screaming towards the woman who should have been their saviour, their journey’s end.

“Why?” Tessa asked as Ilia sauntered around her, an oasis of calm next to the bloody fight being waged mere feet away.

Ilia cocked an eyebrow, eyes glittering with malice. “Why? Because I can. Because I’m fed up with all this fucking ‘harm none’ goody two-shoes crap. Why should
I
miss out because someone else says I shouldn’t do this, or that, or the other? What gives them the right to dictate what I can and can’t do?” she demanded as she came up behind Tessa, winding a small hand around her throat.

“Ok, I’m really getting bored now,” She jerked Tessa’s chin up with a strength her frail body just shouldn’t have had. Her voice rose a little, carrying over the fight. “Enough, or she dies.”

He wasn’t going to win this, couldn’t win it. Despite the adrenalin of the fight surging through his veins Feral could feel the exhaustion beating at him, leeching his strength. He needed to feed, and more than the random splashes of blood here and there when one of his opponents got too close to his fangs. Tiny tantalising splashes of blood practically humming with power. Fae blood always did have that effect, and gave him a blinding headache in the morning to boot.

The scene froze as Ilia’s voice cut across the mayhem. One moment a writhing mass of violence, the next a scene worthy of a medieval tapestry. Standing off to one side was Ilia, Tessa held captive in her arms. Her small hands around the Pixie woman’s throat and her lips hovering close to the pulse Feral could see beating frantically.

He went still, as still as the death he could feel stalking the room, his eyes locked on the Fae Princess. On the small smile that played over her lips. He recognised the subtle warning. A silent message from one predator to another, something intended for him alone.

Behave or I tear her throat out.
Bile rose in his throat along with his anger as he registered the excitement on her face at the impending kill.

No Fae should have that kind of knowledge or that dark need. It just wasn’t natural. It was a curse his people lived with, put up with. Learned to control. It wasn’t something any of them would have chosen but something thrust on them at birth and to a man, woman and child every one of them would do anything to be free of it. That someone would seek it, revel in it. That sickened Feral on levels he didn’t realise existed.

There was no way out of this. No way at all, he was on his own in a place his fellow warriors couldn’t come riding to the rescue as they had when Vixen had been taken by the Pixies. His lips quirked in amusement. The fact he didn’t look
half
as good in leathers as Vixen did might have something to do with it.