Theo
Thirty Minutes Before Intruders Breached Vivian’s Field
We had an agreement that she wouldn’t kill again. Why did she make me do that? Focusing on that betrayal was my only defense against my own gut-wrenching guilt.
It was my only choice. I couldn’t have exactly told her “yeah, darling, take on a horde of people twice your size with no battle experience, a dull axe, and PTSD”?
! She wouldn’t survive. Neither would I; I’d be too distracted trying to keep her alive.
Even if we both miraculously made it through this, she’d have lost another piece of herself.
A piece that I promised her she’d never have to sacrifice again.
I had to lie.
Of course the axe wasn’t in the cabin—it stayed out of sight, tucked in the alcove. But I needed her hidden—safe—while I handled this. And I would handle it. How? No fucking clue.
I ripped through the trees, alternating between running on two legs and toppling onto my hands for brief sprints. My feral form couldn’t decide which was better. Both felt unnatural to me in different ways.
Distance mattered. Seconds mattered. The element of surprise mattered. If I couldn’t live long enough to stop all of them, I could give Vivian her best shot at survival. She was strong. She may be able to save herself with enough factors working in her favor.
The popping of guns sounded close, but that'd been the case for a while. A loud barrage of gunfire was a loud barrage of gunfire. Hell, it surrounded me from all sides. Echoing. Vibrating. Warning. I’d never heard so many weapons firing at once; I had no clue how to read the explosive onslaught.
And then it all fell silent.
Someone with a heavy south-western accent shouted, “Nasty things keep comin’! ‘Ow the fuck a goddess livun’ out here?!”
Fuck, they were close. They’d be filtering through the columns of trees at any moment—costing me the advantage of surprise.
I ducked behind a large root system. The tangle of nature should camouflage me from however many eyes would be passing by shortly.
Time to listen and start planning how I’d stop an army.
Despite my violent history, I’d never seen an army. Because they didn’t exist. It was an archaic form of war, only described in textbooks. Swords, shields, and piles of bodies drawn in charcoal. Practically fictional as far as I was concerned. I was out of my element.
But that wasn’t the only way this differed from every hitjob I’d ever worked.
Those had always been cold, unfeeling, mechanical.
No anger. No sadness. No pain. No fear. Now these emotions crashed into me so thoroughly it was all I could do to not scream and run headfirst into a downpour of bullets.
I needed Vivian to live, to have her home.
I wasn’t a tool being used. I was a desperate male, willing to do whatever had to be done to see my female live to laugh another day.
Every part of my being fucking ached as I listened closely for any hints of how I could protect her. Now wasn’t the time to let my emotions take over. They needed to be a motivator, not a distraction.
“The field doesn’t let the beasts inside of it,” another voice replied flatly. “You’re lucky we have the crystals. The other guys had to fight those things off the entire way. One nearly killed Cassius.”
“Doesn’t make ‘et any easiah. They’re fooking all over tha place.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier?” the second voice laughed. “Then how’s about you toss your crystal and lead the charge?! See how far you make it without that thing.”
“Maybe if you guys kept walking, instead of stopping to shoot the damn things, we’d be there already,” a third voice—quiet but powerful—bit. “They can’t hurt us and you’re wasting ammo.”
“They was twounty of ‘em!”
“Twenty beasts who couldn’t touch you, dumbass.”
“I doun’t trust the rocks.”
“If the ‘rocks’ didn’t work, you’d be dead,” a fourth voice said smoothly. Authoritatively.
Why did they sound so familiar? Calm yet hostile. Deadly yet approachable. So pristine it was filthy. My gut twisted in slow, painful recognition.
The man continued, “Now, for the love of the gods, shut your oafish trap before I have Kithri do it for you. It’s bad enough hearing your incessant waste of bullets. I’d like a moment of peace between the bouts of cowardice gunfire.”
Patton Gable. Why would the leader of E.A.R.T.H. stoop so low as to trek up a mountain of beasts, unforgiving elements, and bloodshed? It seemed beneath him to be hands-on kidnapping a goddess. Yet, here he was.
“Building a road here will be tough,” a nasally voice reflected. “It’ll have to wait until next summer. And will take at least a year.”
A low growl rumbled in my chest. That was why he was here? He didn’t see this as an abduction, but as opening day for his next fortune. A new factory.
Dr. Gable sounded bored as he continued, “Kithri, I need you to set up a building site so we can get started immediately. Without a road, I figure we need task forces of… let’s say twenty men to start.
Most of them should be transporting materials up and down the mountain.
Stick to Quadmos and Lychans. I want a steady supply to keep progress moving. As much as each person can carry.”
“Yes, sir,” Kithri replied.
The nasally voice cut back in. “You won’t be able to make any progress in the winter. The blizzards are deadly out here!”
I could hear the annoyance bubbling under the unbothered facade of Gable’s tone. “Instruct the builders to prioritize shelter first and foremost. Start with a roof at least double the field’s diameter so we can progress through the winters. And a road. We can’t simply waste half of every year.”
“Even if you make roads, they’ll be snowed over for half the year, sir. Long-distance operations will have to shut down at the very least. You can’t do away with the elements of Cyciciah!” the logistics-fixated male objected.
“Consult scientists, engineers, build a fucking tunnel. I don’t care what you do. We will not be shutting down every winter! Figure it out!” Gable’s composure finally snapped. “Kithri?!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Relocate several squad leads from other facilities to establish new teams here. For each one lost, I want five new people hired to fill their vacancy. We don’t need any lapses in productivity or security.
Keep the successful ones, dispose of the others.
No dead weight is to be tolerated in any department. Am I clear?”
“Crystal, sir.”
“Permission to speak?” A new voice cut in.
“You’re already speaking. What do you need?” The Thornian leader was clearly straining to keep his voice neutral, political.
“We are picking up increasing magnetic signal. I suspect we are within a mile of the field.”
Blood pounded in my ears. I’d been so consumed in my horror that I hadn’t noticed the voices had passed me. They were closer to the field than I was now. Standing between me and my mate.
Thunderous rage pumped through my veins, my fingers were dug into the ground deeply enough that my palms were flat against the dirt.
The root I’d been using to steady myself splintered and crumbled within my grip.
I’d be doing the same to these people shortly.
Gouging. Crushing. Destroying. No prisoners kept.
Without time left to waste, I approached the squadron from behind. There was at least fifty of them. I could only hope their inflated numbers made them cocky.
Their leaders would be towards the front or middle, and surrounded by the biggest muscle.
Gods forbid Patton Gable need to defend himself from anything.
The rear of this group would be weaker—less skilled.
If I was careful, I could pick off several from the back before anyone even noticed I was there.
I waited for the first straggler. They didn’t have to fall far behind, just enough that they were out of the group’s periphery. I’d always been proud of my stealth while working for G.P.O.
It was only a matter of moments before I saw my first opportunity—a fearful Thornian who tripped over their feet when a snap sounded in the distant woods. Afraid there was another shadowy wild beast on the prowl? They should be.
I launched silently behind them. Their lips barely had an opportunity to part in surprise before I clamped my palm over their mouth.
Their horns made for convenient handles as I gripped tight and snapped their neck.
The body went limp and I quietly lowered them to the ground.
Good to know I still had that light, covert touch.
I'd be needing it to chip away at their numbers.
I was already turning on my heels, about to retreat and wait for my next opportunity, when there was another pop of gunfire. I jerked my head toward the sound.
Up the slope, one of the larger beasts was charging.
Its dark cloud trailed behind it as strange black limbs stretched forward in its stride.
Claws bared. Maw open. Roaring. It wasn’t yet heeding the crystals they touted.
Even knowing that the charms should work, it’d be easy to panic. And panic they did.
Once the first shot rang out, the rest joined in. Attempting to pulverize the creature. Cowards.
Reckless cowards at that. That beast may not hurt them if they had their crystals, but I didn’t fear their shiny talismans. The noisy chaos created an opportunity. Their audible camouflage was gifting me a window to make a solid dent in their numbers—no discretion required.
Now was my chance to slaughter.
I launched at the back of the group. Five soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Distracted. All fair game.
I jumped onto the back of the closest male, sending him collapsing to the ground. I’d broken his neck before he even hit the dirt. Now on all fours, I swiped out the leg of the person standing next to him. Another quick kill.
Finally, the other three noticed me and stumbled back. When one tripped during retreat, I wasted no time crushing their windpipe before standing to my feet.
The first bullet hit me. Full of rage and adrenaline, I barely felt it. Wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for the gore that hit my face as it sliced through the meat of my forearm. An explosion of red splattered onto my cheeks.
No matter. Moving on.
I leapt for my next victim, aiming for the throat to take them out quickly.
As much as I wanted to methodically pummel every person targeting my female to a bloody pulp, that wasn’t efficient.
Quick, clean kills were better. Later, when I was not so outnumbered, I could indulge my more primal urges.
A subset of the group noticed me and fell behind, the rest still distracted by the beast ahead. Bullets whizzed around me. One could end my life at any moment. But first, more damage. More death.
I took down as many as I could, using my opponents as shields whenever possible. Their quickly pulverized bodies only helped so much. I was taking on bullets rapidly. I’d be dying pretty-fucking-soon at this rate. I was so far from done. This wasn’t enough of a dent. I needed to do more.
Time to retreat and reassess. I can’t kill if I’m dead.
I dropped the freshest corpse from my hands and bolted.
My body spasmed and twitched as it absorbed more lead. Breathing burned. It was a fucking miracle my heart was still beating and my skull was intact. My arms had taken the worst of the blows, one hung limply at my side no matter how much I tried to will it into moving.
I found a tree trunk to lean against while I caught my breath and regained my composure.
I estimated that I’d cleared twenty percent of the problem.
Hopefully, my three good arms were enough to get me through the last eighty percent.
If my head and chest stayed in one piece I could fight.
I wouldn’t let something as silly as bleeding to death cost Vivian her freedom.
The shooting quieted in the distance.
“What the fuck happened?!” a woman shouted.
“Feral Quadmos! He—he just attacked and then disappeared!”
“Should we find him, sir?”
“No need,” Gable replied calmly. “He’ll be where we’re going.”
I hated that he knew exactly who I was, what I was doing, and where I’d be. My mate was their objective, and I’d be protecting her to the death. My cards were laid flat on the table.
“What’s the damage?”
“Twelve, sir.”
“Twelve,” he repeated softly. “Maybe now that your peers have started dying, you’ll heed my advice and stop shooting at beasts that can’t hurt you. Keep an ear out for what can and will.” His voice had risen to address the entire squadron. A hint of disdain punctuated his words.
I wanted him to sound afraid. Even a hint of trepidation in his voice would bolster me.
But no. His confidence was a reminder that he didn’t see a world where he lost. Twelve men down?
Who cares. They were the pawns. The real warriors were beside him.
His protectors who shielded him for years, never batting an eye at a threat.
They were the reason this journey was nothing more than a bureaucratic walk in the woods for him. In Gable’s eyes, he was untouchable.
My mouth watered. I would eat his fucking heart.
If Gable wasn’t afraid of me now, I’d make him afraid.
I would spend my last breath ensuring that he felt so much terror he could never face this mountain again.
I would be the monster that haunted his dreams for the rest of his pathetic, artificial life.
He would regret the day that he targeted my mate.
This wasn’t a job; this was my reason for living. My reason for dying. My reason. I felt every bit of that weight as I gritted my fangs through the pain and prepared for what I was about to do.
I am not Theo the hitman.
I am Theo: Guardian of Cyciciah.
And I am death incarnate.