Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A faint, whispered thunk, a sharp intake of breath in my ear, followed immediately by a warm, wet splat against my cheek.
The fae warrior who is holding me becomes a dead weight at my back.
The knife slips from his grip and clatters to the floor.
His arm becomes impossibly heavy against my neck.
I let out a squeak as he drags me backwards while his body drops.
On instinct, I franticly prise his arm away from my throat. I cough and choke.
“What the hell?” I gasp. I stumble when I see the silver knife sticking out of his pointed ear.
There is a thud and the sound of boots as they hit the concrete beside me.
I lift my eyes to see a dark shadow. The enormous male must have jumped from the roof.
With a flick of his wrist he throws another blade while simultaneously grabbing the third warrior’s head, and with a sharp twist, he breaks the man’s neck.
Both bodies crumple to the floor at the same time.
He moves between one heartbeat and the next.
With a flash of silver and a blade to the chest, the last fae warrior drops.
Without hesitation or pause, he has ripped through the fae like paper.
The silver blades in his hands wink in the overhead light.
I gasp as he turns his head and his eyes lift to mine, regarding me. Rainwater trickles down his face, a beautiful deadly face. Rain drips from his jaw. His strong cheekbones are highlighted by the orange glow of his eyes. “John.” I mouth his name. My lips remain parted in shock.
The hellhound is like a war machine. All that took a matter of seconds.
Dead bodies lie around him.
A hiss and an angry growl draws my shocked eyes away from John, just as an angry fae monster springs towards me.
I let out a squeak of fright. All I can see are glowing blue eyes and a mouthful of gleaming white teeth.
I lift my arms to cover my face and take a quick step backwards.
I trip over the body at my feet, and I go down heavily.
As I hit the ground, a sharp pain in my hip and shoulder resonates through me.
“Bad kitty,” John growls as he grabs hold of the skin at the scruff of its neck and yanks it away from me. I peek through my arms. Jaws snapping, the beithíoch quickly turns its attack onto John, and he grabs hold of its muzzle.
At first, I think he is trying to clamp its mouth closed. The beithíoch lets out a whimper—oh no—as John’s forearms bulge and instead, he rips the beithíoch jaws apart. Blood splatters to the floor and I gag.
The other beithíoch converge. “John, look out!” Muscles bunching, John picks up the dead beithíoch and throws its body. It hits the other beithíoch, slowing them down.
John shifts.
It’s a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of transformation.
The magic re-forms his very cells. Intact clothing scatters around in the wake of John’s hellhound form.
Riddick growls harshly, so deeply, it’s almost a roar.
The sound echoes out into the night. Riddick.
I watch wide-eyed as Ridd—I shake my head—no, John. As John crashes into the fae creatures.
I scramble back up to my feet, and my right hand lands on the warrior’s chest. I yelp and shudder with revulsion. The whole idea of touching a dead person makes me want to puke. Bile rises into my throat. I gag again and my chest burns.
The seven remaining beithíoch circle him, their tails whipping from side to side. Each of them takes a turn at dashing in to attack the hellhound. Teeth and claws.
The hellhound is no mouse. He is bigger than the beithíoch, and his thick coat fur offers him a measure of protection that the hairless creatures haven’t got.
I don’t want to watch him kill them. The beithíoch didn’t bring themselves.
Monstrous and scary, they are still innocent animals. I hate the fae for bringing them here.
John fights as if someone has hit fast-forward. His movements are so fast they are hard to track.
You are being pathetic. Do something. Help him.
I wobble on my feet and look around for the dropped knife.
Oh, God, I can’t see it anywhere. Instead, I turn to the dead fae and with trembling hands and a strange gurgling noise deep in my throat, I grab hold of the blade in his ear.
I heave as I pull. When the knife doesn’t come out, I wipe my hands on my wet pants and put my foot on his neck for leverage.
Wincing, I silently apologise to my would-be killer for what is surely desecrating his dead body.
I tug. The knife doesn’t move. “Ew…come on…come on.” I wiggle the blade as bile again creeps up my throat.
There are hisses and a yowl from the beithíoch.
I continue to half-heartedly tug at the knife still lodged in the fae warrior’s head. “Please come out—I need to help him.” Gah, I can’t believe I am talking to an inanimate object.
A warm hand touches my shoulder. I fling my arms into the air and scream like a banshee.
“Emma, it’s okay, it’s me. You’re safe, it’s me.”
I lift my eyes to see that John is next to me, and I cover my mouth with my hands. I hurriedly back away from him.
More dead bodies lie around us.
His naked body follows my frantic movement, and he prowls towards me. His beautiful body ripples with every step, and I almost swallow my tongue. I don’t know if I’m more turned on or frightened. At least I’m no longer numb.
“Why did you stand there and allow that fuck to hold a knife to your throat?” he growls.
Oh, heck, the hellhound is pissed.
John growls again. “You lifted your chin for him.” He reaches, and his massive hands grip both my shoulders.
He drags me towards him, and as he does, he shakes me.
“If I hadn’t been here, you would be dead.
Why didn’t you fight? Why didn’t you fight, Emma?
You always fight. Yet you stood there…you just fucking stood there.
” He continues to shake me until my bones ache underneath the grip of his enormous hands.
My teeth and eyeballs feel like they are rattling around in my head.
“If you are ever in that situation again—you fight like fuck. Even if the odds are insurmountable. You fight.”
Isn’t he supposed to say, “Do nothing—don’t be stupid and don’t antagonise the bad guys, Emma…call and wait for help.” I blink up at him with confusion. The rain hits my face and John moves closer. His huge body leans over mine, blocking me from the worst of the weather.
To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the poke-the-bad-guys-in-the-eye speech.
Is this another trick? ‘Cause if it is…I don’t care how I do it, I will kill him. Dead John can haunt my dreams, no problem.
I think I am in shock. No, I know I’m in shock. This is all a little too much.
I open my mouth in an attempt to answer him and a keening, frightened noise escapes.
I clamp my lips closed. Wow, where did that come from?
Wide-eyed, I stare at John. The hellhound’s eyes also widen and with no further words of reprimand he pulls me into his body.
I bury my head in his naked chest, and his equally naked body wraps around me.
His heat and comforting shifter energy surround me.
The scent of him, bonfires and fabric softener, fills my nose.
His voice rumbles through his chest. “I will come for you, I will always come for you. But you don’t give up like that. Even when you think there isn’t a chance, you fight. You always fight, you silly fool. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even attempt to run.”
“Are they all dead?” I mumble into his chest. My lips brush against his hot skin and in response his entire body shivers. He groans.
“Yes. They are all dead. I am sorry about the beithíoch—I had no choice. Without the fae to control them, they would have killed all the horses.” I expect him to move away from me, but instead, he threads his fingers through my wet hair and strokes the back of my neck, offering me comfort.
“Why are the fae now after me?”
“They’re not. They were paid assassins. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” John drops his chin onto the top of my head.
“‘Cause you’ll kill them?”
“If I have too.”
“I’m sorry you have to,” I murmur.
“Don’t be sorry. The fae warriors were bad guys. No one will miss them. The man who hired them was an old business associate of Arlo’s. He’s dead.”
“Oh.” What do I do, say thank you? I should…but I hate the idea he has to come and kill people because of me. “What do we do now?”
“I will get you home safe. I have the hounds coming to investigate and do a clean-up. I will also have a better ward installed.” I nod, and shiver. “Do you not own a coat?” he growls out, tucking me closer into his body, into his warmth.
“Am I in trouble? Are you in trouble?” I mumble against him.
“No, Emma, the fae are the only ones in the shit. Neither of us is in trouble.” He crushes me to his chest and drops his voice to a chocolatey whisper. “I’ve grown to care about you in the time we have spent together.”
I lift my face from his chest. “Time?” It’s as if John has flipped an angry-switch in me.
What the hell am I doing cuddling with this naked man in the rain?
“What time are you talking about, John? The time when you spent hours torturing me? Or the time when you disguised yourself as Riddick?” I snarl. I glare at him.
My hands come up between us and I shove him away.
I squirm out of his hold. My back bumps into the wall of the stable and I use it to prop my useless, trembling body up.
“If you think about it”—I flap my arms about—“we spent many nights together while you played hellhound bodyguard. But I’m not willing to spend any more time with a man who thinks it’s okay to lie to me.
What was all this?” I wave at the bodies. “Did you set this up too?”
John’s torso tenses and he steps away from me.
“I didn’t set this up,” he splutters incredulously.
“I saved your life. While we’re on the subject, I didn’t intentionally set up the fake kidnapping or the vampire attack at the house.
The lack of wards at the house was to encourage you to leave and to lead me to your accomplices.
I didn’t realise at the time that you could walk through wards. ”
I grind my teeth and narrow my eyes. I bloody told him I could do that when he had me chained to a bloody wall. What is it about this hellhound and his listening skills?
“The vampire attacks were Alexander. That was a real car crash, Emma, with real bad-guys.” He rubs his face.
“Did I take advantage of the situation? Yes. I used it as an opportunity to get more information out of you. The angel agreed to heal you and when we were ambushed, I asked him to come and get you. To set up an interrogation. I never set out to hurt you.”
I huff with disgust and shake my head. His colossal body is blocking out the light, so I can no longer see his expression.
“Well, you did hurt me. I sat in that chair over that drain for hours while you played with me. I can’t shift and make everything perfect again.
You had no idea if I had internal injuries.
Yet you proceeded with your games anyway.
I sat in that chair, frightened to death and in pain.
” I spin and undo Bob’s top stable door.
I open it and peek in. The fat cob is already settled and is back to eating his hay.
I march over to the other stable and open its top door as well.
“You, John Hesketh, are a stubborn grade-A dickhead. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours.
Thank you for saving my life tonight. Now leave me the hell alone. ”