by Kit Fawkes
He laughed, pulling her closer. “It’s okay. You’ll get used to me.”
“I certainly hope so,” she murmured as she snuggled closer.
After that, she went from one set of arms to the next, not entirely keeping track and just enjoying the experience. It blurred into a long line of teasing touches and exciting experiences, though the individuals were hazy. In her mind, all six of them became entwined in part of the same experience. It felt right, so she didn’t try to separate the individual memories. Instead, she just allowed the hazy, pleasant feeling to buoy her as she walked with them out of the club more than two hours later.
They surrounded her in a protective circle, and she had to resist the urge to sway toward the nearest one. What held her back wasn’t because she wanted to be in Ryland’s arms. It was because she didn’t want to be in just Ryland’s arms. After spending just one evening with the six of them, she was more confused than ever. If this was some sort of spell Caius cast upon her, it was strong magic. And if she was genuinely supposed to choose from the six, that seemed like an impossible task. How could she ever pick just one?
Chapter Fourteen
They’d almost reached the van when a large group appeared from the shadows, all clad in black, and all silent. They were varying heights, with the shortest one likely no more than four feet tall, and the tallest one somewhere around seven-and-a-half feet. She froze in fear, but the six men around her reacted seamlessly, immediately switching from relaxed to ready.
“Hand over the Trueblood, and this doesn’t have to be unpleasant.” It was the tallest one who spoke, and he had a gravelly, rough voice. In a way, it was a bit like Eli’s, but without the sexy smoothness to balance out the roughness.
“I think it’s going to get very ugly, especially when we remove your mask,” said Kriss. His wings extended, and he reached between them to pull out a sword. She assumed the scabbard was hidden by his plumage, but there had to be some magic involved. The sword was too long and sharp for him to wear comfortably between his wings, especially when they were usually out of sight.
“That was a pretty decent insult for a flamer,” said Marek with a hint of admiration in his tone.
“Bite me, iceman.” The words were rude, but he grinned fiercely at Marek as Kriss said them.
A moment later, Marek held a blade similar to Kriss’s, though it seemed to be crafted from some black metal like obsidian. It wasn’t obsidian though, because it gleamed and sparkled in the light, and even from a few feet away, she could see how sharp its point was.
“Get in the van,” said Eamon, taking her hand to pull her closer to the vehicle.
She clung to him as she backed away.
Two of the group in black broke off to follow them, and she shuddered when the nails of one lengthened to lethal talons. Despite being no more than four feet tall, the creature in front of her was definitely dangerous. So was its companion, who stood two feet taller and suddenly seemed broader as well.
“What are they?”
“The short one’s probably a duende, but I don’t know about the taller one. Their masks do more than show their faces. It keeps us from identifying their origin and their magic until they use it.”
“Terrific. Magical camouflage.” That reminded her, and she looked down almost idly, and with the faintest hint of amusement, to see her Fae garment had become a vinyl catsuit. She looked ready for battle, but the sad truth was she couldn’t defend herself. She had no training, and even if her father had been set on teaching her self-defense—which he hadn’t—she wouldn’t have been prepared to face off with magic-wielding creatures anyway.
“Get in the van. Now,” snarled Eamon.
She hurried to comply, responding to the urgency in his voice. The door slammed behind her, and the entire van glowed faintly purple for a moment as he touched the frame. When he pulled his hand away, the glow slowly faded, but when she reached for the handle, it was stuck. She couldn’t open it, but she doubted anyone could open it from the outside either.
Unless they defeated Eamon. Would that remove his protective spell? She had no idea, and that was one of a million questions to add to her list. She knew practically nothing about any of this, but she would have to learn quickly if she wanted to survive.
Eamon blasted a purple ball at the duende, who fell back with a howl before puffing into thin air and disappearing. She doubted he had destroyed it, but perhaps had sent it retreating for now.
The bigger assailant turned on him, and he reached out with hands that looked thick and leathery, grasping for Eamon. She gasped when a finger hooked onto his shirt, and Eamon cried out. He wrenched free, but it looked like he had been burned by acid in the spot where the thing had touched him.
She looked away for a moment, unable to bear seeing more, and other battles caught her attention. Her men were outnumbered, but they fought fiercely, and as though they were ten times as many in number. They were certainly brave and capable, and she was glad Caius picked them for her. Maybe his Oracle was right, and she was meant to be the mated to one of them.
At the moment, they all defended her as though she was already their mate. It seemed to take forever, though was really no more than a couple of minutes, before the group in black disappeared, either literally fading away in front of her eyes, or melting back into the shadows that littered the street with its broken streetlights.
Eamon placed a hand against the van, and it seemed that he was using it both to support himself and to remove the spell. A moment later, the van stopped glowing, and the wound slowly shrank until it was only a faint scar.
A second later, Kriss opened the sliding door, and she tumbled out into his arms. “I was so worried about you. All of you. That was the scariest thing—”
“We’re okay.” Marek said the words quietly as he put a finger on her lips to end her rush of words. “We expected more and worse. They underestimated us tonight.”
“Which means they won’t make that mistake again,” said Eli.
“That’s true, but we’re heading to Fire & Ice tomorrow,” said Ryland, and he seemed to be deliberately ignoring the way Marek and Kriss both flinched at the words. “They won’t be able to pass through the portal without permission, and even if a few managed to, there’s no way their entire group would be permitted to do so.”
“What if they come in pairs over a series of days?” asked North as the horrible possibility occurred to her. “They could still amass enough people to take me.”
“We’ll all die before that happens,” said Kriss with fervent intensity. “Not just anyone can wander through the portals, sweetheart. It records your magical signature, and Caius is good at figuring out who has valid business, and who’s up to something nefarious. You’ll be safe from them in the Fire & Ice realm.”
She started to nod, but then hesitated. “Something about the way you say that makes me nervous.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “You’ll be safe from them, but not necessarily from others in that realm. It’s practically a war zone, and I’m not looking forward to visiting.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, and don’t scare her,” said Kriss sharply. “We have a cease-fire.”
“Though it’s tremulous at best,” said Marek. He seemed unconcerned though. “You’ll be safe enough with us around you. Just don’t wander off, North.”
She nodded as they slipped back into the van, with Eli lifting her in as though she couldn’t step in by herself. When he started to buckle her seatbelt, she glared at him. “I’m not that helpless. I was really pathetic tonight though. I can’t offer any defenses if they try to take me again.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” said Eli in a confident way.
“But it wouldn’t hurt you learn some defensive techniques,” said Ryland with a thoughtful look.
“That’ll be part of her training,” said Marek.
“True, but I thought maybe we could teach her a few quick and dirty things while she’s developing her
talents.”
A pleasant shiver made her tremble as she imagined just what quick and dirty things he might have in mind. A surge of disappointment accompanied his next words.
“I’m thinking just basic self-defense—blocks, lunges, and how to fight dirty. Where to aim for maximum pain. That sort of thing.”
She swallowed back her disappointment, knowing it was silly to feel it. She should be ecstatic that he was offering her the opportunity to learn how to defend herself. “I’ll be a good student.”
“And we’ll be good teachers,” said Eli with a hint of predator in his gaze. His smoky tone and gleaming eyes left little doubt he was talking about something completely different than self-defense.
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, not sure if she was anxious or excited about the future. It seemed impossible, with so many daunting tasks ahead of her, but she’d been blessed with six guardians to navigate it with by her side. It wasn’t the future she’d asked for, and it certainly wasn’t what she’d expected, but she had a hint of optimism that it would turn out all right.
Maybe she really could be the Trueblood they claimed she was, and maybe she could navigate her new destiny with confidence. And maybe she could pick just one of the men around her from among the six to be her partner.
Or maybe she was just fooling herself on all counts.
ll
The next book in the True North series will release Jan. 2, 2018. Preorder now!
Author Bio
Kit Fawkes is the pen name USA Today bestselling author Kit Tunstall uses when writing steamy paranormal (especially shifter) romances. It’s simply a way to separate the myriad types of stories she writes so readers know what to expect with each “author.” Kit lives in Idaho with her husband and two sons.
Author’s Website
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