by Danica Avet
Izzy shot again and again, nailing—she laughed at her own wittiness—the imps who charged at her. Grant was covered with the little bastards, though it didn’t look as though they were trying to hurt him so much as slow him down. The ones after her came with teeth bared and their little creepy hands extended.
One of them latched onto her leg, and without her leathers to protect her skin, Izzy felt every one of those wicked teeth going right into her calf muscle. Screaming out her pain and anger, she swung the tire iron down, laying into the imp with all of her strength. It fell in a broken mess, but was quickly replaced by another and another.
Shooting at them with her right hand and swinging the tire iron with her left, Izzy tried to make her way to Grant. She could barely see him he had so many imps hanging off of him. He kept breaking necks and throwing the bodies, trying to keep them away from his septum piercing, but it was only a matter of time before they brought him down. She couldn’t let that happen. She needed to get them the fuck out of there.
The wailing sirens were still too far away to offer help. His parents’ ranch wasn’t too far away, but she couldn’t bring this kind of hell on them. Swinging tirelessly, she mowed through the ranks, but for every imp she killed five more seemed to take its place. Her strength waned and she knew without a shadow of a doubt if they didn’t get some help soon, she was going down and Grant would be taken.
Izzy mustered all the strength she had and plowed her way to Grant’s side. The next packet of nails went into the gun. She fired more nails at the fuckers following her while her other hand dragged imps off of Grant’s back. He didn’t have a single mark on him. Thank gods.
His big hands cracked skulls at a steady pace while his hooves dealt brutal kicks to any that got close enough. She wanted to slump next to him with relief and exhaustion. She thanked the gods he was still going. Obviously his minotaur form was more durable than his human form.
A small fist landed in her eye and Izzy growled. “I hate imps!” She swung the tire iron at the imp who punched her, glad to hear it squeal and fall away.
“Run.”
The low growl vibrated through her back. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Raging Bull? These little creeps’ll pull you down and then I’ll have to save your ass anyway!”
Izzy fired again. She needed to make this last strip of nails last, so she made sure she aimed to kill. It was harder to do than it sounded since imps were small and fast, but she did her damnedest.
“You had an imp-killing party and didn’t invite me?”
The sultry voice was so unexpected, everyone stopped fighting at once. Izzy jerked her head around to see who had spoken, her heart beating a frantic rhythm of hope. Peering through the trees, she made out a pair of knee-high fur boots, then leather pants.
Rosetta Brown of the Blood Maiden Tribe sauntered out of the woods looking as though she’d just stepped off a fashion magazine. She’d obviously made an appointment with her stylist, because her hair was brilliant white, almost the same color as the snow, showing off her delicious tanned skin. She wore the Blood Maiden halter with a fur coat matching her boots over it. She looked exotic and not in the least bit feminine.
To finish it all off, she was in full makeup, her false eyelashes batting slowly as she took in the frozen tableau before her. Izzy wasn’t really surprised about the makeup. Rosetta never left her tent without looking like a billion bucks—she claimed inflation made her worth more.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Rosetta?” she demanded, though gods knew she was happy to see her.
“Bitch, you should be happy I’m here!”
“I am, but—”
“But nothin’!” Rosetta cut her off, giving her a once-over. “You look like shit. Haven’t you been using that facial cream I sent with you?”
“I haven’t had time. We’re kinda in a—”
“You need to use it twice a day! If you’re not careful, you’ll end up looking like a leather purse, and let me tell you, that bitch could bathe in a vat of moisturizer and it wouldn’t do a bit of good.” She paused to catch her breath. “You should’ve told me you were planning a party. I would’ve been here earlier. Do you like my new boots? I got them from Savio. Gotta love that fairy. Did I tell you he and I are dating?”
“Rosetta!” Izzy snarled at her best friend, though the smile on her face ruined the effect. “We could use some help here, you lazy bitch!”
Rosetta sighed heavily. “Fine, but I’m going to kick your ass after this and I want to know all the deets about you and the bull. Got it?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Oh, Saga’s with me…” she looked behind her. “Somewhere. So be prepared for two ass whippings, bitch.”
“Just shut up and fight already!” Izzy was laughing too hard to take offense. She was so glad to see Rosetta, and if Saga wasn’t far behind, even better.
As though the imps realized their advantage was lost, they attacked with more gusto, going for Izzy like she owed them money. She squeaked at the renewed attack, especially as her nail gun ran out of nails. Throwing the gun at the head of one of her attackers, she grabbed the spare tire iron she’d tucked in the belt of her skirt, and double-wielded them. It wasn’t as refined and well-balanced as sword fighting, but it was better than nothing.
Steel twinkled close-by, telling her that Rosetta was kicking ass and taking names. Bolstered by her friend’s appearance, Izzy fought like a demon. Grant occasionally bumped into her, but after a few awkward swings, they found an easy rhythm that allowed them both free movement. Though they were taking part in a deadly dance, Izzy had never felt closer to Grant than she did at this moment. How weird was that?
By the time the squad cars showed up, the mob of imps had been defeated. Izzy could only imagine what Ricky thought when he pulled up because he sat in his car with the headlights pinning them in place. Looking around, she saw that she and Grant were knee-deep in imp corpses, while Rosetta had a nice collection of imp heads at her feet.
Grant shuddered, drawing her attention from the slaughter. Whirling around, she watched his massive body shrink until he was back in his human form. He stumbled forward, prompting Izzy to slip under his arm to help him maintain his balance. Steam poured off his body as his naked skin met the frigid air.
A fur coat was thrust in Izzy’s face. Rosetta held it out with an expectant look. “Well? Don’t make the man freeze his dick off, ’cause that would be a shame.”
The coat fit Grant, not surprisingly, and he gave her friend a weak smile.
“Are you okay?” he asked Izzy, the concern on his face enough to melt her heart.
Rosetta’s, too, if the look on her face was anything to go by. Izzy nodded because the lump in her throat made it impossible to speak.
“Here now, little miss,” Ricky’s booming voice startled Izzy bad enough that she jumped. His big hands settled on her shoulders, gently tugging her away from Grant. “We need to get you both warm and then you can tell us what happened. Okay?”
Rosetta pulled Izzy away from Ricky, her sharp eyes taking in the bear’s height and, most especially, size. “Bitch, you didn’t tell me there was so much man candy around here!”
Ricky, who’d turned to help Grant, stopped dead in his tracks, his head swinging around to stare at Rosetta in horror. Izzy dragged her friend away from the bear, carefully stepping over the imps piled at their feet. She watched as Ricky led his cousin to one of the squad cars, putting him in the passenger seat and closing the door.
Rosetta, however, wasn’t as interested in Grant’s health. “That’s your bull? Did you do the dirty yet? How’s he in bed? Saga should be here soon; I wonder what’s taking her so long. She said she knew your big ass would be in trouble and she was right!”
Izzy gasped in outrage. “What is it with my ass? I haven’t gained a single pound in fifty years and now everyone thinks it’s big!” She slapped Rosetta’s arm.
Rosetta slapped her back.
They gl
ared at each other. Izzy snarled and windmilled on her friend, who replied right back with a flurry of open-handed slaps that landed light as a feather. Then it was on! It was their way of playing, but it still annoyed the shit out of everyone else.
Which was why when Izzy heard, “Why am I not surprised to see you two fucking off as usual?” she was prepared to defend herself.
“She started it! She said I have a big ass.” She turned to Saga, who stood several feet away, her foot resting on an imp skull.
Saga, looking just as beautiful as her queenly sister, leaned against one of the bare trees on the edge of the clearing. Her bright blue eyes surveyed Izzy’s skirt, now torn and bloody, festive blouse, and heels. “That doesn’t look like your uniform.”
Izzy’s face bloomed with color. “Er, I was going to a dinner party.”
She wasn’t fooled by the thoughtful look on her mentor’s face. Oh no, Saga was pissed off and about to tear a strip off her hide.
“Wait, did I hear you say a ‘party?’” She tilted her head to the side, her long, brown ponytail trailing over her shoulder. Izzy had gotten very good at judging Saga’s moods by that ponytail. “I was pretty sure Queen Albreda sent you here for something important. Let me think.” She frowned at the sky, snapping her fingers. “Oh yes! I think it was called ‘solitary confinement!’ Or was it ‘exile?’”
Rosetta, showing just how fucking smart she really was, edged away from Izzy. She saw the ticking time bomb that was Saga DeLacey and wisely wanted no part of it.
“It wasn’t my fault.” Yeah, that was mature. Apparently Saga agreed because she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “I couldn’t just let the nymphs make off with him. They were…hurting him.”
Saga’s eyebrows shot up, but her expression was still cold when she replied. “Hurting him. Hurting a two-thousand-pound bull. Nymphs.” She shook her head. “You had one simple job to do here, Izzy. You were to stay. Out. Of. Trouble.”
Shit, shit, shit! She opened her mouth to defend herself, but was interrupted by a smelly bear that stepped up to Saga and put a massive paw over her mouth.
“Now, now, I can’t have you upsetting little Izzy here. Not when my cousin is planning to make her part of the family,” he told the very pissed-off Saga with a grin. Ricky looked at Izzy, his brown eyes concerned and grateful. “You head on to the car now, darlin’. Grant’s starting to freak out because your blood is forming a nice little pool in the snow.”
Izzy looked down to see the damned bear was right. She was standing in a puddle of her own blood. Nice. She’d never be able to wear these shoes again.
Saga, the most badass Amazon Izzy had ever had the honor of working with, struggled in Ricky’s arms, though it looked more like they were dancing. She would move, Ricky would move with her. It was…disturbing. A quick glance at Rosetta said she was just as freaked out over Saga’s inability to kick the bear’s ass.
The way Ricky looked at Saga wasn’t cool either. If her head wasn’t spinning and if she wasn’t leaking blood like a faucet, Izzy probably have taken more note of Saga’s expression. There was something about it that rang a bell, but there were lots of bells going off and lights, too. It was kind of pretty in a really fucked up…
* * * *
The attack hadn’t gone the way he planned. The imp leader quivered in fear.
“You failed.”
The imp cringed, ducking his head lower. He was already prostrate on the floor, any lower and he’d be beneath the tiles. “I’m sorry, master. We almost had him this time. Another Amazon showed up and—”
“Does your usual master put up with these lame-ass excuses?”
“N–No, sir.”
“I didn’t think so. You failed. That’s all there is to it. Now you’ll pay the price.” With a flick of his hand, he summoned his clan who descended on the imp and tore it to pieces. Sitting back in his chair, he sighed. You couldn’t find good help anywhere. “Send a message to Avyn, tell her to eliminate the demon lord those imps belonged to. They’re defective.”
“What do we do next?” The question came from his second, a bear who’d been kicked out of his clan for killing his parents for fun.
“We’ll have to go after the minotaur ourselves. No more of this woo-woo bullshit.” Someone snickered at the unintended pun, but shut up as soon as he glared in their direction. He didn’t tolerate humor. “Form two squads. I want this bastard in Ormond’s hands by tomorrow night.”
They trooped out of the board room, but one paused in the doorway. “What about the Amazons?”
He hated Amazons. His lip curled in a silent snarl that had his clan member scrambling to leave the room. The Amazons would be wiped out. He’d see to it himself.
* * * *
“Grant! Where is he, Ricky? Where’s my baby?”
He rolled over, burying his head in his pillows. For fuck’s sake, he was trying to sleep!
“Calm down, Aunt Belle. He’s doing just fine. He and Izzy are resting and—”
“That woman is the reason he’s in all of this trouble, I just know it!” Her dramatic screeching edged closer and closer to Grant’s door and he prayed Ricky stopped her from entering.
He groaned from the piercing pain in his head. He felt like it was about to split open.
Something hit him in the back of the head making it throb even more. He growled.
“Stop making all that fucking noise or I’ll push your ass to the floor, bull boy.”
Both eyes open now, Grant lifted his aching head to see the most beautiful sight in the world. Isola, eyes closed and hair spread out on the pillow beneath her head, wearing nothing but a sheet. A dark bruise covered her forehead, and from what he could see of her, the rest of her body hadn’t fared well.
“Are you okay?”
“Does this look like I’m okay?” she demanded with her eyes closed. “I’m trying to fucking sleep and you and your mother keep making all that noise.” Her face was scrunched up in a scowl that boded ill for anyone who crossed her.
He smiled. How could he not? She was so adorable, he wanted to hug her close and never let her go. He opened his mouth, but she thrust her hand in the air, index finger extended.
“Shut. Up.”
And he did because what did he have to complain about? His mate was in his bed, where she belonged, and though they were both too beat up to enjoy it, he felt soothed by her nearness. Relaxing back into his pillow, he turned his head to watch her. The tension drained from her face as she eased back to sleep.
Unable to help himself, he nestled closer and closer until they were touching. Grant sighed, letting his eyelids fall shut as he absorbed the sensation of knowing they were both alive and relatively healthy.
Ricky and his mother still spoke outside, but the sound washed away on a tide of utter contentment.
“Oh my gods! Grant, get away from that female this instant!”
Isola snapped to wakefulness, which was very unfortunate for Grant’s nose since he’d had it tucked into the crook of her shoulder. Blood flowed. His mother screamed. Isola groaned and fell back on the bed, her hand over her eyes.
“What’s going on here?” The voice was cold, feminine, and cut right through the drama.
Peeking over his cupped hands, Grant saw the Amazon from the woods standing in the doorway. Her legs were braced wide apart, her blue eyes taking in the scene with one glance. She sighed. “Get out, heifer, my Amazon is recuperating.”
His mother gasped her hand flying to her chest. “Why I…I don’t believe this! Grant, are you going to let this…this…”
The Amazon’s eyebrow rose as she fingered the knife strapped to her thigh.
“…this woman to talk to me that way?” Arabella finished weakly.
Grant had to clear his throat a few times to get the blood out of it, but he finally croaked, “Ma, we’re hurt. We’re trying to rest up so we can investigate. I’ll call you as soon as something comes up. Promise.”
�
��But why are you in bed together? You have another room, Grant Torrance Strickland, and that woman is not your mate.” Oh she was mad. “I want her out of that bed this instant!”
Ricky, who’d wedged himself in the room behind his aunt, made a face the Amazon apparently didn’t appreciate. The cold look she gave him was reminiscent of an iceberg, but Ricky winked at her.
“It was easier for us to take care of them together,” he told Arabella, “and they look cute together. Look, they have matching bruises.”
“Richard Davis, I don’t need to hear your smart-ass remarks. Get that woman out of my son’s bed!”
Isola groaned, but Grant couldn’t tell if it was from pain or frustration since her hand still covered her face. The blood flow from his nose trickled to a stop, but he couldn’t stop staring at his mate while his mother argued with Ricky and the Amazon. He saw her lips thin and felt her body tense next to him. She was in pain, severe pain, and his mother acted as though it didn’t matter. Rage roared through him like wildfire.
“Get out.” His voice was so low and deep that it took several seconds for the others to respond.
“What?” his mother asked when she stopped for air. “Did you say something?”
“I said get the fuck out of here.” He didn’t hear them moving. “Now!” The bellow reverberated around the room, shocking them into silence, but it wasn’t until Grant made to leave the bed that his mother scrambled.
Ricky, with a wink and a grin, tried to herd the Amazon out, but she wouldn’t budge. Pressing a hand to Ricky’s chest, she moved him out of the way so she could pin Grant to the bed with a deadly glare. “Hurt her and I’ll skin you alive.”
With that said, she shoved Ricky halfway across the bedroom before stomping out.
His cousin chuckled softly. “That little lady is a handful!”
“Are you fucking nuts?” Grant asked, his rage seeping away as confusion took its place.
Instead of looking offended, Ricky shook his head. “Maybe. I kind of like the way she pushes me around.” He laughed again. “Take care of your girl. I’ll take care of her friend.”
