9. Chapter 9 #3
Mental note: Ask more questions. Rowan had said he was guarding Milo—he had even noted Rowan consistently sweeping the area—but Milo clearly should have asked follow-up questions. He’d treated the whole of yesterday like a date, and in retrospect, he really should have been more on guard.
Milo’s head spun with ideas, some of them coming together nicely.
“So, love, let’s talk possibilities here.
I can place one alarm right below the cliff’s edge—as far as I can see—and that’ll be your first alarm.
The alarm can be connected to a large bell, say, at the top of the watchtowers nearby?
It will sound a general alarm to everyone in the area. ”
Rowan liked this idea and immediately nodded, the wind tousling his hair.
“I can also rig a second alarm system right along the cliff’s edge and have it go directly to you. That way, if by some chance the first alarm isn’t heard or is somehow gotten around, you’re still alerted.”
“Yes,” Rowan hissed, eyes alight. “Do it.”
“Loving that idea, are you?”
“Very much.”
“Let’s do it, then.” Milo headed straight for the edge, slightly buffeted by the wind, and took a peek over it, trying to gauge where to put the alarm line. It really would be a line, after all, with different spikes connected to each other, so he couldn’t just put them willy-nilly—
A pair of pitch-black eyes in an elongated grey face stared right back, then it bared razor-sharp teeth in a hungry grin.
“Shit!”
Milo immediately backpedaled several feet in sheer panic, scrambling to right himself. Then cursed himself for the instinctive reaction, grabbed his wand, and shifted his stance to fight back.
Rowan flew past him before Milo even gained his bearings, the large man moving swift as the wind, almost belying his size. His sword cleared its sheath with a shing, slicing through the air in a quick arc, and just in time.
When Rowan had said climbing a cliff for the Drachifel was like a walk in the park, he had not been exaggerating. In a blink, the Drachifel scuttled over the edge and onto the flat terrain before charging. Rowan didn’t even look surprised by its nimbleness, just met the charge head-on.
Milo’s heart was still trying to claw its way up his throat, his nerves skittering. He had a Sacred Flame spell poised to go, but he couldn’t even find an opening to use it. Rowan blocked his sightlines completely.
But Rowan seemed to have the fight well in hand. For all that the Drachifel charged at him, swiping those massive claws, even trying to bite his throat, Rowan expertly parried each attack.
Milo was so distracted by the fight he almost didn’t see the set of claws popping up over the edge. Another Drachifel got its head over the ledge, eyes taking in the fight.
Oh fuck no.
Without hesitation, Milo blasted the thing silly. It screeched in a death rattle as it lost its grip and fell back into the sea.
There better not be more of those things! Rowan hadn’t mentioned whether they liked to fight in pairs or groups. Suspicious, he darted for the edge of the cliff again, carefully looking over, and sure enough, there were two more steadily climbing the jagged cliff face.
Milo had a perfect line of sight on one, and he hit it with another Sacred Flame, blasting the damn thing’s head off. It also fell straight back into the crashing waves, landing far, far below with a faint sploosh.
One down. Well, technically, two down. Now if he could just get proper sight on the other one—it kept weaving in and around some rocks and scraggly brush growing out of the sides of the cliff. Maybe Milo should change angles?
Another Drachifel went sailing over the edge and into the sea below. Milo leaned back to look at his lover. “There’s one more climbing up.”
Rowan tilted sideways to see where Milo pointed, then grunted.
Several pounding footsteps came running up, and Rowan barely glanced their way before bellowing an order. “We’ve got this one. Patrol the cliffs, make sure there aren’t more.”
A male voice barked out, “Sir! All right, on the double.”
Milo absently tracked the guards who moved past him, but mostly he was focused on the last Drachifel. Almost…almost… Come on, already, Milo was aging here.
The head finally came in proper view and Milo lost no time in releasing his spell. It hit dead on, and the Drachifel screeched this godawful, piercing sound before it fell into the sea.
Phew. That was scary.
Rowan offered him a hand up, and Milo took it, eyes doing a quick scan of his lover. Rowan didn’t even look ruffled. Then again, he was likely used to such fights.
“Two alarms,” Milo said firmly. “Because I do not want to walk around with one eye constantly over my shoulder.”
“It does get old,” Rowan agreed with a faint smile. “Set to work, little mage. I’ll make sure a Drachifel doesn’t snack on you.”
Milo sniffed in disdain. “The only one allowed to eat me is you.”
“Damn straight.”
Notes:
AJ: So, Raina, what do you think of Milo?
Raina: He’s too adorable for words. I’m not giving him back.
AJ: You already told Rowan to seduce him into staying, didn’t you?
Raina: You bet your ass I did.