36. Fenric
Fenric knew things were going way too smoothly.
That was when shit always happened. The second you were sure you were in the fucking clear on a difficult job, everything blew up in your face and you landed yourself at the end of a rope.
The second he’d seen Lirion split off from his sister, his heart had lodged in his throat and remained there.
He’d been perched on a chandelier after slipping into the villa through an open window.
It had been so damn tempting to peck some sense into his brain, but there was no point.
Lirion had chosen this path for his sister and all those tortured captives.
Fenric was sure he might have done the same thing.
He’d been torn over which direction to go as Lirion hurried away, but in the end, he did as Lirion asked and flitted after his sister. She was the primary target, and Lirion had reminded Fenric more than once that he could take care of himself.
As Aria moved down the hallway of the second floor with her zombie guard, Fenric darted in his bird form, landing here and there on ornate sconces or chandeliers.
Aria would knock and whisper something to the girl who was working in that room with a client.
Most of the time, the girl could slip away with zero problem with a simple excuse.
Other times, it was enough to have the uniformed guard visible in the doorway for the client to shut their mouth and return to the room.
Fenric watched every room, every motion closely.
He could feel the seconds ticking away, knowing it was likely that while guards weren’t stationed in this corridor, there was always a chance they were making regular rounds.
Stuck in bird form, he twitched and ruffled his feathers, wanting nothing more than to have his blades in his hands.
He wanted to get back to Lirion to check on him, but his first duty was to Aria and the people she was trying to save.
Twice, a customer made too much of a ruckus, bitching about the interruption.
Fenric zipped down from his perch, shifting from bird to human in the blink of an eye.
The bastard didn’t even have enough time to gasp in surprise before Fenric was slitting his throat.
He’d hide the corpse under a blanket and send Aria on to the next room.
After the last of the workers were cleared out from the second floor, Fenric shifted into his human form beside Aria. “Is there anyone else?”
She shook her head, pink curls falling to frame her narrow pale face. “No. I don’t know anyone else working here. The main workers on the first floor have more freedom. If they notice something happening, I think they’ll leave on their own.”
“Let’s get out of here. I’ll be right behind you until you reach another member of my team.”
Her expression turned mutinous, and he could almost feel her digging her heels in. “What about my brother?”
“I’m coming back for him. I have to get you out first. Stay close to the guard.”
She glared for an extra second, but Fenric ignored it and turned back into his raven. Stubborn. Just like her brother.
Unable to argue with him any longer, Aria walked briskly down the hall toward a set of narrow stairs the servants and other workers used, the zombie guard close on her heels.
Fenric flew behind her, hanging as close to the ceiling as he could manage to remain out of sight.
Servants hurried past them, but they quickly averted their eyes from Aria when they noticed she had an escort, as if they thought she’d gotten in trouble with Count Pierres and didn’t want her bad luck to rub off on them.
Fenric shivered suddenly, his feathers ruffling as he perched on a cheap brass wall sconce that had burned out, leaving this part of the hall deep in shadow.
A sharp tingle of magic suddenly permeated the air.
Something was wrong. Or was going wrong.
He wasn’t tuned in to magic the way Hapi and Malfas were, but he could still sense its presence, and there was a new spell hitting the air.
It couldn’t possibly be something that could help them. His luck wasn’t that good.
They reached the final side door at the same time as another young woman with wide frightened eyes and deep blue hair. The second she saw Aria, she hurried over and grasped her in a tight, trembling hug.
“Is this really happening?” the new girl whispered.
“Yes. It’ll be okay. We’re almost there,” Aria replied in the same low tone.
With her arm wrapped around the girl’s back, she ushered her out the door into the shadows of the buildings and the crisp, cold night, where hell was already breaking loose.
The air vibrated with Belstrom’s enraged war cry, followed by the pained and panicked shouts of the guards he was destroying with the wide sweep of his fists.
Hapi strolled casually behind him in a swirl of black mist that rose and curled around him like tentacles.
Each time Belstrom killed a guard, Hapi’s black mist shot out, hitting the chest of the corpse.
A second later, the dead man sat up, grabbed his sword, and joined in the fight against the guards.
Hapi was joyfully building his army of the dead with Belstrom.
They were keeping most of the guards busy, but that was only going to last for so long.
Zombies were a distraction, not an effective fighting force until you got in the thousands, and Hapi wasn’t strong enough to manage that many zombies at once.
At the same time, fireballs arced through the air and smashed into the wall and upper levels of the villa. Fenric swore he could hear Malfas’s cackles over the screams and shouts of the guards. At least the warlock and the necromancer were having fun.
“Where-where do we go?” the blue-haired woman stammered.
Fenric ripped his eyes from the mess Bel and Hapi were making as he shifted back into human form.
Torches flickered in the darkness, causing shadows to dance and lunge wildly.
More fires dotted the gardens, lighting up the night.
“There!” He pointed at the side gate that was currently open and clear of guards.
It looked as if it was usually reserved for deliveries and servants.
Another girl in a flimsy dress was running through it ahead of them.
They darted to the gate and outside the walls, where they could see more girls racing toward the beach.
“Follow them. There’s a rowboat on the beach that will take you out to our ship.”
Aria grabbed his arm with both hands, her nails digging into his flesh through his shirt. “What about Lirion? I’m not leaving without my brother!”
Fenric’s head jerked back in the direction of the wall, but there was no sign of the damned incubus. Where the fuck was he? They’d needed a distraction of only a couple of minutes to get the girls safely out. He should have been running toward them already.
But seconds ticked by and still nothing.
Fenric’s stomach churned and an icy chill crept along his skin that had nothing to do with the cold night air.
As they stood there, more guards were slipping around Hapi and Belstrom, despite their efforts to keep everyone occupied.
Guards who were heading straight into the building where Lirion remained.
Something was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
He couldn’t wait another second. Fuck it.
Fenric roughly pried one of Aria’s hands off his arm and gave her a shove toward the beach. “Get out of here. Now! I’m going back for him.”
“But—”
He didn’t pause long enough to listen to her arguments. He tapped into the magic spell he used for his swapping ability. Normally, he just did this with small items. It made sneaking into a place so much easier if there wasn’t an opportunity to sneak inside as a cat or bird.
This was the first time he’d ever attempted it with a living person. Same principle, right? No big deal. All he needed was to have touched the item, and he’d touched Lirion plenty of times.
In a heartbeat, he had the feel of Lirion in his mind, the texture of his smooth, warm skin in his hands.
Swallowing against the sudden dryness in his throat, Fenric gave the magic a final push, and the familiar pull started in the pit of his stomach.
His heart lurched, and the world flashed dark for a second.
He blinked and found himself standing in the center of the main stage of the entertainment hall.
For several seconds, everyone just stood there frozen.
Dozens of guests and servers were at tables with spilled drinks and scattered drugs.
The entire room was already in chaos, with people fighting their way to the main exit thanks to the attack launched by Malfas, Hapi, and Belstrom.
But there were still several people staring at the stage, faces bright red and eyes wide in shock.
Mouths hung open, but no sound came out.
Scattered among the tables were about eight guards with their weapons drawn, approaching the stage, while a lone zombie guard stood in front, his drawn sword already splashed with blood.
Fuck. Of course. Fenric’s timing was impeccable.
It appeared Lirion had been about to get grabbed by the guards.
If there had been some magic holding him trapped, it was gone now as the guards circled Fenric.
After a moment of confusion, the guards made him their new target.
That was fine. With any luck, Aria was dragging Lirion down to the dock and the rowboat right this second.
“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Fenric shouted at the top of his lungs, waving both of his hands in front of him. “Wanna see a magic trick?”
As the room seemed to hold its breath, Fenric swore he could feel the vibrations of Malfas’s manic joy as he was set loose on Utopia, which meant Fenric had a matter of seconds to get the fuck out again.
“Now you see me…” Fenric called.
He accessed his shifting ability once again, but he chose his rarely selected and most difficult form—gryphon.
In the blink of an eye, the world was sharper and power flowed through his new body.
He dug lion talons into the wooden planks of the stage and threw out his giant wings, stretching them until they touched either side of the stage.
He tossed his head back and a high-pitched screech erupted from his beak.
Chaos erupted. A fireball slammed into the wall, blasting through in a shower of sparks, stone, and dust. The world trembled and people screamed.
Customers and servants scrambled for the exits, trampling each other in their haste. The guards seemed to hesitate, faces pale and covered in sweat. This couldn’t have been what they were expecting when they took this job.
Fenric launched himself off the stage, tackling the closest guard to the floor. With a swipe of his massive claws, the man’s throat was torn out. He tucked his wings close to his body and pounced on one man after another.
Unfortunately, after their initial shock, the guards regrouped and attacked, surrounding him. Fenric batted tables and chairs at the guards, trying to create a new opening for escape, but they kept him corralled by the stage.
Smoke trickled in from the various open doorways and the temperature skyrocketed.
Malfas was working his brand of mad magic, setting the place on fire.
Unfortunately, Fenric hadn’t made the quick escape he’d hoped for.
If he didn’t escape soon, he was in danger of the whole place collapsing on his head.
With another shriek, he lunged and took another guard to the ground.
A blade slashed along his side and another cut his left shoulder, but the way to the side door was now open.
Gritting his teeth against the pain spreading through his ribs, Fenric raced to the exit, claws digging into wood and carpet with every step.
As he got into the hall, he slammed the door shut with a kick, hoping it was enough to get the damn thing lodged in the frame and slow down his attackers.
Around him, wood creaked ominously and black smoke filled the corridor.
This place was seconds from coming down.
At least he was sure they’d gotten the stolen men and women out of the place.
It was on the heads of the servants and customers to get themselves out in time.
He followed the hallway as it twisted and turned around the building before finally leading him out a door through the kitchen that was now empty.
The moment his paws touched open ground in the destroyed gardens, he launched himself into the black night glittering with bright stars, spreading his wings wide.
People screamed, but each flap of his wings carried him higher and higher, away from the noise and chaos.
When he was far enough away, he banked to the left so he could see the remains of Utopia. Dancing orange flames consumed the glorious three-story building while black smoke billowed into the night sky.
If they were lucky, Count Pierres was trapped in there somewhere. It would have been nice to take that slime out while they were rescuing the kidnapped people, but if not, maybe they’d be lucky enough to rip his head off another time.