Chapter Twenty-Six
I was going to die…or worse.
No. Not like this. I thrashed as my feet left the ground, kicking wildly and finding only air. Sharp nails bit into my skin, his grip crushing my throat and cutting off my air supply until I only had enough strength to claw at those deadly fingers. They cut off access to the pendant—the pendant I should have grabbed and didn’t in my panic. He swung me closer. Black eyes glinted in the darkness, satisfaction twisting the creature’s grotesque mouth into a hideous smile that displayed his barbed teeth. He leaned closer, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. He drew back and looked over his shoulder. “It’s her.”
Panic seized me as I fought for air, my muscles burning from the lack of oxygen and my heart near exploding. But I refused to go limp, refused to give in, to die like this.
“Sweet nightmares,” he taunted, hoisting me higher until I was dangling like a doll, my arms starting to slacken.
No, no, no. Black spots blotted my vision. Not much time. I focused everything I had on my hands, tearing my nails into his fingers, shredding his tattooed skin.
He hissed. “Good. You like it rough. We like it rough, too.” He turned, laughing to his companion, and I mustered a final burst of resistance and aimed it into one well-placed kick. He went down in a heap, right on top of me.
I shoved at him and lurched toward the street, toward the people and the lights and safety. If they could see me…
I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
A hand grabbed the back of my head, nearly ripping the hair from my scalp as the other man wrenched me back. “Leaving so soon?”
He shoved me to the ground, and the other pounced.
Spit sprayed my face as he pinned my wrists against the cold pavement. I couldn’t call for help, couldn’t beg for mercy, couldn’t even cry as he plucked the straps of my dress. “At least this one’s pretty. I wonder if she’ll taste as good as she looks.” His forked tongue slid out of his mouth and slithered down my cheek, his breath rancid and shockingly cold. I twisted, craning my mouth as far from those nightmare teeth as I could manage.
And the pendant slid to my shoulder.
I was never really alone. Not anymore. I’d forgotten.
I twisted beneath him, trying to lift my knee, trying to aim another shot at his groin. Not because I was stupid enough to think he would fall for the same thing twice but because I needed a distraction.
“You’ve got to be more creative than that.” He grabbed my thigh, and my freed fingers shot for the necklace.
Help.
It was all I managed before the other grabbed my arms and held them over my head. “I like it when they fight. It gets in their blood.”
Bile rose in my throat, threatening to choke me. I spluttered, managing to turn my head just enough to not suffocate.
“Let’s see what we can do about these clothes…and this skin. You’ll be even prettier without it.” He dragged a razor-shop nail along my collarbone, my skin splitting like a seam, and I cried out, the silent scream shredding my throat as it tried to escape. His face angled over mine, macabre curiosity gleaming as he spilled my blood. I closed my eyes, every muscle in my body coiling with dread.
I prayed they killed me before they…
The world went deathly still, muted like my voice. It contracted in a thunderous rush of wind and shadows that cleaved the night in two and flattened me against the wet pavement, knocking the murderous creature off me. I rolled away from him, gasping, fingers scrabbling to drag my body across the cracked cement. The streetlamp flared to life, illuminating the man standing over me, gun in hand. He looked down at me, and his face contorted with a rage that was ancient and primal.
A prince of death.
I surrendered to the safety of that darkness. My body collapsed onto the street as I drank air into my lungs. Lach cast one lingering look in my direction, eyes narrowing on the throbbing wound at my collarbone. He reached over and chambered a round before stepping forward.
I rolled my head, tracking his movement to discover the monsters edging toward the dead end, excuses pouring from their mouths.
“Stop,” Lachlan growled, dark magic lacing the command. He lifted his left hand and cut the air in a circle with his index finger. Both males flipped onto their backs, their hands and feet trying desperately to scuttle away as death approached.
“If we had known,” the one that licked me began.
“You knew.” Lachlan stalked forward.
The other one shoved at his friend. “He did it. He wanted a snack.”
The words snapped me out of my shock as I realized he’d meant what he’d said about tasting me literally. I clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late. I doubled over and retched.
Lachlan’s head whipped around, eyes narrowing on that sound. One of the fae lunged toward the street, and I opened my mouth to warn him before the monster escaped. But Lachlan’s eyes narrowed, assessing me with concern as he lifted the gun and fired a single shot without looking. It cut the air and hit the escaping one in his left shoulder with a wet, bone-splintering crack. Not a kill shot, but he went down in a heap, moaning. His companion froze.
I flinched as a tattoo twisted around Lachlan’s neck. The air shimmered for a moment, and Roark appeared. His eyes scanned the scene, calculating—collected, unlike the prince he served. Roark knelt down, and I tucked my knees to my chest as he gently examined my wound. But I couldn’t look away from Lachlan as he holstered the gun and reached out with his magic. The magic lifted the fae to his feet, and Lachlan grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back with a sickening pop. The creature’s eyes bulged as he cried out.
“First, I am going to break every fucking bone in your hand,” he promised. Something cracked, and the fae arched in agony, mumbled pleas spilling from him. “Then, when I’ve shattered every single fucking bone, I’m going to cut each finger off one at a time for daring to touch her.” The monster sobbed, shaking and squirming, but Lachlan’s mouth curled into a merciless smile. “And then, we’ll have some real fun. That’s what you were looking for, right? A good time?”
I searched for my voice, searched for the words to tell him to stop this, but found none. All I could offer was one small assurance. “I’m okay.”
Lachlan’s jaw clenched, eyes finding mine, but he didn’t let go.
“Please, please, we didn’t hurt her. I pray forgiveness.” The creature cried out as another bone broke.
“Save your prayers. Your gods are not listening.” The cold cruelty of Lachlan’s laugh made my heart stutter. “That you touched her would be enough reason, but you made her bleed. There will be no mercy.”
Roark helped me sit up, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, but I still couldn’t tear my eyes away from Lachlan as he shattered more bones. The creature sagged, his knees buckling, and Lachlan dropped him in a heap on the street. “Stay put.”
Neither of the fae tried to escape as Lachlan strode forward, likely held in place as much by his fury as whatever dark magic he’d called upon. Wrath radiated from him as he cut through the night with swift, purposeful steps before lowering to one knee before me. He shot a look at Roark, and the arm around my shoulder dropped.
Muscles tensed in his jaw as Lachlan performed a rapid assessment, his gaze lingering on my neck so intensely that my fingers reached to shield the wound before he detonated.
“What are they?” I whispered.
“Redcaps,” he said through gritted teeth. “Murderous fae pricks who are not allowed in my city.” Reason enough for him to punish them, but I knew that wouldn’t satisfy him. “They will not hurt anyone else.”
He paused as if waiting for me to object to what he was saying.
I didn’t.
His eyes narrowed, and he pushed the necklace to the side. The cold night air hit the raw cut, and I winced. He sucked in a reedy breath, his eyes flashing to Roark. “Take her to my quarters. Now.”
I didn’t fight it as Roark grabbed hold of me and nipped us back to the Avalon, directly inside Lachlan’s private wing. I didn’t want to see what was about to happen in that alley, even if the redcaps deserved it.
“You want a drink?” Roark asked me, hovering nearby but not touching me. “Or do you want me to get someone? Ciara?”
I shook my head quickly. I didn’t want anyone else to see me like this. Not when I might break at any moment, shattered from within by dredged-up memories. “I’m fine.” My lips wobbled, and I forced them to arch. “Would you believe me if I told you I’d been through worse?”
Roark tensed.
“I grew up in foster care,” I said softly. “Not all monsters lurk in back alleys.”
He softened a little, and I hated the pity that clouded his eyes. “Lach knows…”
Not quite a question, but I nodded. Maybe not the details, but I had no doubt he knew. I didn’t have a clue if he’d guessed or if he saw the scars I tried to hide. I suspected the redcaps would pay extra because of that knowledge.
Roark strode to the bar cart and poured me a drink.
I took it with trembling fingers. “Is he going to kill them?”
He hesitated. “Do you really want to know?”
No. I took a drink, swishing it slightly in my mouth like I could rinse away the memory. I’d seen the murder in Lachlan’s eyes, glimpsed the feral rage that he was likely unleashing. He could handle himself, but if the wrong person got in the way, if the punishment spilled onto the streets of the French Quarter… He had already drawn attention to himself tonight, and with that attention, innocent people were more likely to find out what the fae were—something that might get them killed. “Go, before he loses control.”
I half expected him to argue with me, but Roark’s eyes pinched closed before he nodded once and vanished, telling me that I was right to be concerned.
Telling me that I’d only barely glimpsed Lachlan’s power on the street. Telling me that he was in danger of losing control, of letting the darkness that had saved me consume him.