“Look.” Ryder nudged her, and she glanced up. All along the school, students lined the upper walls, windows and balcony.
All of them were silent and standing to attention.
It was eerie.
“What are they doing?” She spoke in a hushed whisper, afraid to speak louder and break the student’s silence.
“They’re showing you their respect, a great honor only rarely given to a warrior going off into battle.”
“I don’t understand.” Morgan ducked behind Ryder, their reaction leaving her queasy. “They hate me.”
Ryder shook his head. “Maybe when you first arrived. Since then, you’ve saved the lives of almost every person here, not to mention saved the Academy. They would follow you into battle if you gave the signal.”
A lump tightened her throat. She’d always been an outsider. She didn’t know how to react to being the one people respected and counted on to save them. It was a responsibility she wasn’t sure she was ready to handle.
Then she realized that it didn’t matter if she was ready or not. Her team relied on her—she didn’t have a choice, she needed to be ready.
“Do they know the truth?”
“Rumors, but no one knows for sure.”
“So it’s begun.” Defeat slumped her shoulders.
They knew—she wasn’t a type of girl who inspired such loyalty. She was too honest at times, too much of a hunter to invite that kind of blind devotion.
The van was outside the garage, the guys milling around it, waiting for her. Not wanting to face them or waste more time, she climbed directly into the vehicle and took a spot next to the window. Without a word, the rest of the guys piled inside. To her surprise, Atlas took the seat next to her. Kincade was driving, and Draven took the seat next to him, avoiding making eye contact with her, which left Ascher and Ryder in the back.
She glanced over her shoulder at Ascher, resisting the urge to look anywhere but at him. “I’m sorry for bailing on you.”
Instead of laying into her the way she expected, instead of the lecture she no doubt deserved, he gave her a small smile and shrugged. “Next time just take me with you.”
It was not so much forgiveness as a demand, but underneath she sensed a hurt that wouldn’t go away so easily. She’d fucked up. He’d given up everything for her, been her partner longer than anyone else, and she hadn’t thought twice about literally skipping out on him.
She gave him a nod and vowed to do better, determined to find some time to spend when it was just the two of them. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and stole a kiss that made her stomach flutter. Much too soon he pulled away, settling himself more firmly into his seat, little wisps of smoke rising from him. She blushed and faced the front of the van, still able to feel his lips on hers.
Suspiciously, she glanced at the others, but no one appeared disturbed, and the last of her unease, the fear of losing one of them by showing affection to another, vanished. They truly were hers, and the feeling left her giddy.
Now she just needed to keep them all alive long enough to have a future with them.
It wasn’t long before the vehicle was winding down the twisted mountain road. Tension filled the confined space, so when Atlas touched her arm, she gave a startled jump. When he pulled back, Morgan was immediately contrite, and she grabbed his hand, weaving their fingers together.
The dark elf stared at their joined fingers, his expression confused, almost flustered, and she realized he hadn’t been trying to hold her hand, just gaining her attention. When she would’ve pulled back, those emotions were swallowed up by the pure possessiveness on his face.
He lifted their joined hands to his chest, right over the mark that linked them together. The sweetness of the gesture warmed her heart, and she leaned against him. He seemed content to play with the tips of her fingers, the purple tinge to his skin a reminder of his darker self, which she had come to find charming.
To distract herself from his nearness and how much she wanted to crawl into his lap, she glanced out the window. Something in the shadows moved, something dark that she couldn’t see, even with her enhanced sight, and she leaned closer until her face was pressed against the glass. “Um, guys? What is that?”
Demonic red eyes gleamed back at her. She’d guess it was a giant wolf, but the damn thing was the size of a freaking horse, and it easily kept pace with them. Kincade had just taken his foot off the pedal when the beast from hell slammed into the side of the vehicle.
The van rocked violently, while glass shattered into thousands of pieces and rained down on her. Ryder surged forward from the back seat, blocking most of the flying particles, although little stings nicked her arms and the side of her face when she didn’t get her arms up fast enough. Kincade cursed, wrestling to keep them on the road.
Before she could even lower her arms, Atlas grabbed her and jerked her to his chest. In the next instant, what looked like giant two-inch dinosaur claws slashed at the van, peeling strips of the roof away like a blasted can opener. The claws were long, black as night, and seemed to be able to shred metal with the ease of butter.
When the beast didn’t get what he wanted, his enraged snarl filled the tight space, making her ears ache. Without conscious thought, the metal around her wrists and hands melted down, until she was holding two intricately carved black blades in her palms.
She shrugged out Atlas’s hold.
She didn’t need his protection, she needed to protect them.
A large mace, like a spiked ball at the end of a whip, swung past the rear window, and she realized that it was the creature’s tail.
“Down!”
Not even a second later, the back window of the van exploded, both Ascher and Ryder hitting the deck. Kincade tightened his grip on the wheel, yelling over his shoulder, “Guys, we’re not going to survive many more blows.”
Ascher reached out the window for the mace tail, braced his feet on the rear doors and pulled with all his might. The tail whipped back and forth angrily, and she worried that the hellhound would be yanked out of the vehicle.
“A little help here,” Ascher grunted.
Ryder didn’t hesitate, adding his strength by grabbing a hold of the beast right next to him. Claws pierced the roof of the van, metal screeched and long rents appeared as Ascher forcefully pulled the beast off the roof one inch at a time.
The back doors of the van began to bow outward when the creature was finally pulled free. It smacked the road with a heavy thump, then rolled ass over teakettle before settling on his feet, his claws slowing his momentum.
Kincade stomped on the gas, his face grim. Morgan glanced back to see the giant, dog-like creature charging after them again. “Is he part of the hunt?”
Atlas just looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
Of course it was…it was too much of a coincidence otherwise. “What the fuck are we dealing with here?”
She’d studied creatures all her life and hated that she couldn’t place this one.
As if reading her mind, Draven whispered, “It’s a Cù Sith.”
“Say again?”
He turned toward her with dark eyes that didn’t hold a speck of hope. “Others call them Black Dogs or Ghost Dogs. They are a myth—a creature said to haunt the moors of Scotland.”
“Lessons later.” Morgan glanced back to see the dog was only a yard away and gaining fast. “How do we kill it?”
Atlas grabbed his to-go bag and pulled out a crossbow, loading a bolt, and began firing. The first arrow struck true, but didn’t seem to even penetrate the hide, the beast bellowing more in anger than pain at the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Three more bolts were released in rapid succession before the beast pulled up next to the truck.
Atlas held out his arm, pinning her back against the seat, and shot one more time, nailing the creature in the neck. This one finally hurt, if the creature’s snarl of rage was any indication. He turned those red eyes of his on them, then threw himself at the v
ehicle.
The van swerved, rocking the vehicle until it was dangerously close to tipping on its side. The tires hit gravel, sending the van spinning wildly. Kincade wrenched on the wheel, physically trying to wrestle two tons of metal into submission, but it was much too late. “Hold on!”
Morgan squeaked when Atlas boldly plucked her up off her seat and pulled her onto his lap, curling himself around her. She dropped her blades, felt them twist back around her wrists and hands, and grabbed his arm for stability in a tilt-a-whirl ride gone wrong, spying the monster in the flash of the headlights as the van spun. A loud pop like a gunshot sounded, and the truck swerved drastically until they were headed straight toward the ditch, hitting every bump and rut on the way. Then they slammed into something so hard the van rocked to an abrupt halt, throwing everyone against the side. The already weakened metal crunched under the strain and folded like an accordion, and the lights vanished, leaving them in complete darkness.
Everything fell eerily silent.
She peered out in the darkness but saw no sign of the Ghost Dog. She patted Atlas’s arm, smothering her laughter. “When Kincade said to grab onto something, I don’t think this is what he had in mind.”
“Wrong.” Kincade lifted his head, touching his brow where he’d slammed into the steering wheel, staring down at his bloodied fingers with a scowl. “It’s exactly what I meant.”
Atlas gently set her aside and leaned over to pull open the door, but it was wedged tight against the tree. Draven tried his door and received a screech of metal in protest. No matter how much he threw his shoulder at the door, it wouldn’t budge.
Kincade tried his door next, his scowl darkening when it refused to budge, the beast having inflicted too much damage for it to open. When she assessed the vehicle, she noted what the others had already realized—the van would never function again.
“We need to get out of here.” Draven peered outside, glancing in every direction. “They call the Cù Sith the Black Dog or the Ghost Dog because it can slip in and out of the shadows. Most don’t see it coming until it’s too late. Once it’s caught the scent of its prey, the beast will never stop hunting.”
Shame practically darkened the air around him. The way he wouldn’t meet her gaze let her know that he still considered everything his fault, and her heart cracked a little at knowing that nothing she said would help.
“Which means it will return.” Kincade grabbed onto the steering wheel, then began kicking out the windshield. “We can’t stay in here. We’ll be like sitting ducks.”
“The first one out will be targeted.” Atlas looked contemplative, almost eager.
“Bait.” Ascher seemed resigned.
“No. No fucking way.”
Ascher’s eyes lingered on her, and a deep foreboding nearly took her out at her knees. “They’re after me. If I go, they’ll leave you guys alone.”
“Doubtful.” Draven met her gaze for the first time since he entered the van. “The queen made it very clear that anyone with you tonight would be a target. She has no intention of letting any of you live.”
You live.
Not us.
As if he knew and had accepted that he would be taken and never seen again.
After numerous kicks, the windshield finally tore out with a crunch of glass, and Kincade turned to view the van. “If we stay in the van, we’re dead. He’ll be able to pick us off one at a time. If we’re to have a fighting chance, we need room to fight.”
“But whoever goes out first will be picked off.” Morgan was determined to be the one.
“Not if we move at the same time.” Ascher gave a nod to Ryder. “We’re more protected in our altered forms. We’ll provide a distraction, draw him away enough for you to get out and circle around behind him.”
Morgan pursed her lips, wanting to argue, hating that they were putting themselves in danger, but their plan was sound. When no one spoke, she realized they were all staring at her, waiting for her to agree. They knew her too well. They wouldn’t move without her word, rightly afraid that she would try to sneak out.
She reluctantly nodded, the hair on the back of her neck rising.
It had been too quiet for too long.
Without another word, the guys began moving like an organized machine. Both Ryder and Ascher stripped, then, without another word, threw themselves out the back window and disappeared in the darkness.
Morgan hefted her leg over the back seat to follow, when Atlas grabbed her around the waist and hauled her backwards. “Hey.”
Without pause, he passed her to Draven. Kincade met her eyes, then launched himself out the front window. Draven tightened his hold on her for a second, then tossed her out a moment later. She rolled over the top of the hood, landing in a crouch at the front of the vehicle, then quickly scrambled after Kincade as he rounded the van.
The other two had just emerged behind her when she heard the sounds of vicious fighting. She picked up speed, rounding the vehicle in time to see Ryder fly past them, nearly bowling Kincade over.
Ascher snarled, backing away from the Black Dog nearly three times his size, the beast flickering in and out of existence as it jumped shadows. The hellhound was limping, bleeding badly from a wound on his leg. Then Atlas strode forward with his crossbow, firing arrow after arrow with machinelike precision. While some hit the mark, most of them flew harmlessly into the darkness beyond when the beast flickered in and out of existence.
Ryder staggered to his feet, blood matting the fur of his right shoulder, where it looked like a chunk had been removed.
“We’re not going to be able to take him this way.” Kincade grabbed her arm and began to haul her backwards.
“If we run, it’ll only pick us off one at a time.” Morgan grabbed the bag Draven had looped over his shoulder, then rummaged around inside until she found what she wanted. She pulled out a flashlight, then pointed it directly at the monster.
While the beast didn’t flicker out of existence like she’d hoped, the black shape dimmed considerably, backing away as if the light hurt him. He snarled in fury, crouching low. Two more beams of light quickly joined hers, and the beast vanished. Morgan whirled, having trouble believing they’d managed to banish the creature so quickly.
The guys did the same, going back to back with each other.
Then it felt like a train slammed into her, sending her flying backwards and she went skidding across the asphalt until she was surrounded by darkness. Though she couldn’t see anything, Morgan knew she was no longer alone.
While her lungs struggled for air, she curled her hands into fists, calling her blades.
Not a second too soon.
A large string of drool dripped out of the darkness right above her face. The beast looked down, sharp fangs glistening in the darkness, but it was those demonic red eyes that seared into her brain, revealing a complete lack of soul or conscience. Whatever the creature was, it had never been part of this earth.
Knowing she was about to become puppy chow, Morgan lifted her arm and slammed her knife into the side of its skull. Her blade met resistance for a moment before his shape vanished in a puff of black smoke. She was pretty sure she didn’t have long before it returned, and launched to her feet to see that she was about twenty feet away from the guys.
She locked eyes with Kincade and took a single step toward him when the Black Dog took shape between them. Its fur bristled, his fangs dripping with saliva as he took a menacing step toward her. The guys yelled and swung their arms, trying to draw its attention. Ascher and Ryder began circling, nipping at him before leaping back, hoping to draw him away, but the beast would not be deterred.
The rhythmic sounds of air whooshing had her turning…in time to see the guardian statue at the school snap its wings out wide to slow his descent. His arms and legs were out, his claws bared, and he slammed into the creature full force, throwing the great beast off his feet.
Bones snapped, a great howl echoed throughout the darkness surroundin
g them, and Morgan charged after them, terror sending her heart slamming against her ribs. When she finally found them, it was just in time to see the Black Dog launch itself at the gargoyle, latching onto his wing until she heard a nasty snap of bones. The gargoyle arched under the pain, giving a mighty roar, revealing inch-long fangs that were stained with blood. The gargoyle’s tail lashed, its speared end slicing down along the dog’s side, nearly gutting him.
The beast released his hold, whipping around to use his own tail, the mace swinging toward the gargoyle’s head. The stone creature easily caught the whip-like tail, leaving his torso vulnerable. The creature took advantage of the distraction, using his claws to make deep gouges across the gargoyle’s ribs and tearing open his side.
Morgan fisted her blades, ready to throw herself between them, when Atlas leapt through the air, bringing down his sword, slicing the Black Dog through the spine and directly into the heart. The beast gave a shudder, then disappeared in a splash of black smoke in a very unsatisfying way.
The gargoyle dropped to his knees, and Morgan rushed forward to catch his shoulders before he pitched to the ground. “Is it dead?”
“Yes, but it won’t stay that way for long.” Draven grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away, but she refused to budge.
“I’m not leaving him.”
He flashed her a look, then sighed and came to the gargoyle’s other side, pulling the thousand-pound stone man to his feet. “We need to get moving.”
Chapter Thirteen
The gargoyle curled his nose up in a snarl at Draven, obviously not appreciating the help, but the beast didn’t pull away. One of his wings hung awkwardly against his back, while blackish blood gushed freely down his side.
His stone hide was more like leather than rock, his body warm. He glared at the others through narrowed eyes, using the arm she placed over her shoulder to hold her slightly behind him, as if protecting her from them.
Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3) Page 13
