“Yup, that’s me.”
Her warm laughter wrapped around him, rooting him to the floor. Nik stood there, staring at her like some awestruck fool. Hell, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and head upstairs, but work called. Reeling in his desire was damn hard, but he did. He gave her direction to their quarters. “I’ll see you shortly.”
“Can’t wait.” She flung him a mischievous grin and headed for the stairwell.
As she disappeared up the stairs, Nik rubbed the compression in his chest and made his way to the Arc’s study. Silence fell as he entered the softly lit room, the open French doors letting in the sounds of chirruping insects. The warriors clad in their patrolling gear watched and waited. Their tension stretched around him like a rubber band. He couldn’t blame them when he usually had nothing to say. But this creature’s vibe, hell, he was dead sure, it was the same one he sensed in the alleys two weeks ago.
Michael rose from his chair behind the L-shaped desk. “What happened?”
“The hellhound made an appearance.”
“What?” Týr straightened from the doorjamb, his bored expression vanishing. “How did the thing find you in that isolated place?
“No clue.” Nik scrubbed his palm over his shorn hair. Terror still knotted his gut, recalling the hellbeast leaping for Shadow. “But it did, right there on the mountains.”
“And here we were all ready and waiting for it or the Narakas to show up, and nothing,” Aethan drawled. “Meanwhile, you’re having all the fun.”
Nik snorted. Any other time he would have gladly taken on the monster with little fear—hell, it was what he lived for—vengeance for his torture in Tartarus. But not if it meant endangering his mate.
He filled in the warriors on what occurred on the mountaintop. “It was fucking brutal and disturbing at how easily it tossed Race and me aside,” he muttered. “It shrugged off our weapons as if they were twigs, our abilities, a sprinkle of rain, then it charged Shadow…” Stars, he inhaled deeply. Even though she’d moved like lightning and attacked it, those images would remain imprinted on his mind.
“Is she okay?” Týr asked.
Nik nodded. “Yeah.”
“It will follow you here,” Dagan murmured. His puzzled stare skimmed over Nik, probably wondering what the hell he was doing here during the blood moon, pain-free and sane.
“Likely. Because of these lacerations—” He yanked his t-shirt, revealing the still healing three claw slashes on his abs. “Those things may be able to mark a target, too.” Nik let his shirt drop and cover his wounds again.
“Anyway, Shadow hurt it. After it tossed Race and me aside, the thing leaped at her—and she charged it, sliding between its forelimbs, and somehow, she managed to injure the creature with my obsidian dagger—sliced it apart given the amount of blood that drenched her. I’m still dumbfounded at how quickly she moved. Thankfully, the beast vanished after being hurt.”
“Yeah, those wounds won’t heal fast, not when injured with our mate’s da—” Blaéz stopped, and a grin started. “Bring out the champagne. The Greek’s taken the leap.”
Chuckles broke out all around, chasing away the somber air for a moment.
“About time someone nailed your surly ass.” Týr smirked, then sobered. “Any idea why this creature came after you?”
Nik hooked his thumbs in his back pockets. Should he tell them about the souls he had housed? What the fuck, might as well. He couldn’t hide what Shadow was. Sooner or later, they would sense it. If anything occurred, and in this twisted life of theirs, anything could, he wanted her protected. “It probably wanted the demon souls I had trapped in me since Tartarus. It’s what those specters in that hellhole used me for—a sponge to absorb the vile entities.”
“Shit,” Aethan muttered. “That must have been hell.”
The Empyrean hadn’t been one of those incarcerated in Tartarus. His banishment happened because of him accidentally killing his little sister. But the others? Yeah, they’d all endured their own agony in that hellish place.
“However, they no longer inhabit me,” Nik said, moving on. “Shadow has the ability to absorb the dark energy of souls. Something to do with the otherworldly blood she’d been given a few years ago after blood demons had attacked her, and she nearly died. The plasma formed symbionts, it seemed. It’s what keeps her alive.”
Silence dropped in an explosive boom, the shock reverberating in the study.
Then fucks rang out.
Ely sat forward in her chair near the Arc’s desk, her dark stare pinned on Nik. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah.”
“So, she sort of neutralizes the dark souls once consumed?” Blaéz asked.
“Yeah, her symbionts do. I think the hellhound sensed this energy in her, and that’s why it went after her.”
“No worries, Greek, we got your back,” Aethan said, moving away from the unlit fireplace. They all nodded.
And they would. After surviving the horrors of Tartarus, they’d stood together through every shitstorm they encountered through the passing millennia.
“Wait,” Michael said, pinning Nik with a questioning look, the silver fissure fragmenting those blue irises like a bolt of lightning. “What kind of blood?”
Shit. He shrugged. “She doesn’t know.”
“Feeding off demon souls for energy could only mean—”
“I don’t care what it means or what blood was given,” Nik said, his tone like steel and non-negotiable to whatever the Arc would say. “She is my mate, mine. If this is against your protocol of not having demons here, I will move out and live with her elsewhere.”
Michael lifted his head and glared at the ceiling. As if asking, why me? “She’s your mate, regardless of what keeps her alive. On the other hand, with a soul joining, wouldn’t it neutralize the need for the symbionts to feed?”
“I don’t know. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take, not with her life on the line.” Nik cut the Arc a steady stare. “I sense them now and know when they need nourishing.”
No one asked how she would feed. Thank fuck for some mercy.
“Okay, that’s it for now. But keep an eye out for those Narakas,” Michael said. “They’re usually controlled by higher level demons. It means trouble for us if they’re after mortals. Be aware their saliva will immobilize at skin contact. We have to find the damn demon behind this before pandemonium breaks out.”
As they filed out of the study, Ely murmured, “So we’re fighting wendigo-like demons now, huh?”
“The Narakas aren’t wendigos, just overblown shitheads with dodgy spit. You watch too many horror movies,” Týr drawled, removing his M&M’s from his pants pocket.
“I know.” She slanted him a grin. “Kira introduced me to them, says you don’t like her choice of films.”
He snorted. “Why would I when I live that shit?”
Nik passed them, scanning for Shadow, and found her still in their quarters. Frowning, he flashed up to the second floor.
Shadow paced along the length of the padded bench at the foot of Nik’s bed and dragged her fingers through her unbound hair. Since they’d left Romania, she’d been on tenterhooks, trepidation twisting her tummy. She’d tried to tell Nik about Tolvi back at the monastery but had chickened out at the last minute.