Page 27 of The Hellhound's Mate
“Saph? Yes, of course.” I frowned at them, having no idea what they were getting at. “Morning, what’re you?—”
“I knew you were involved, but I didn’t realize…” They laughed gleefully. “That’swhy Gaufrid can’t take control of Saph. His soul isn’t free. It belongs toyou.”
“His soul?”
I looked across the yard at where Gaufrid was suddenly yelling the same words over and over again, his face turning red and fists clenched. He looked enraged, but also…impotent.
His spell wasn’t working.
And there was Saph, taking an experimental step toward Gaufrid. I could see the moment Saph, too, realized the spell had failed. He still had free will and now he knew it.
My heart racing at this incredible turn of events that could save us all, I screamed my encouragement. “Send him back to Hell, Saph!”
Even I jerked back when Saph slashed open Gaufrid’s chest with a lightning-fast swipe of his claws. Gaufrid stumbled back, clutching at his bleeding chest, but Saph’s attack must’ve triggered Oisian because he sprang into action.
It wasn’t just the sight of these two evenly matched beasts fighting each other that disturbed me, but the sound of their snarls and growls and barks. Listening to them frightened me on a very primitive level that screamed for me to run away. They clawed at each other, bit and wrestled, and it was every horrible thing I’d tried not to imagine. I comforted myself with the fact that Saph wasn’t enslaved, couldn’t be controlled, and I refocused on the mission I’d given myself.
I had a necromancer to kill.
An injured one at that. And distracted, too, because he was focused on the deep cuts across his chest. He’d taken off his stupid preppy sweater and was pressing it to his injuries. He looked like he was mumbling something, though, so it was possible he could heal himself.
I ran toward Gaufrid. I wasn’t strong, I wasn’t skilled in combat, and I had no idea what I was doing, but I also wasn’t going to hesitate to end this. I didn’t care that I could die from tripping on this uneven fucking ground and stabbing myself with my own sword. I didn’t stop until I’d gotten close enough to slash at Gaufrid’s neck, red blood spraying out of him.
Gaufrid grabbed at his neck, snarled like a wild thing, and said something as he thrust his other hand out at me. As if something large and solid had hit me, I flew backward and landed on the grass so hard I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. When I sat up, I could see Gaufrid was concentrating on his injuries again, mouth moving and eyes closed now.
Healing himself took time, and I couldn’t let him have any.
I stumbled to my feet and lunged at him again. My blade sank into his gut so easily and I gasped at the way his flesh gave like that. Gaufrid seemed startled, too, but while I was horrified by what I’d done, he recovered and grabbed my hand still on the hilt of the sword. I tried to pull away, but that was what he wanted. Together, we pulled the sword free of him.
I should’ve known he’d aim it at me, but I didn’t see it coming until the sword was in me.
Humans weresodelicate. I fell back, the sword standing up out of my stomach, and couldn’t believe that people had evolved to be so easy to kill. Not even a little bit of armor or anything to protect me. Which meant I should’ve used my brain to keep me safer. Oh, what a dumb little thing I was to have run out here with just a sword. So stupid…
Someone was screaming, and I looked beyond the sword sticking out of me to see Diego and another biker were hacking at Gaufrid like he was one of the ghouls. Neck, shoulders, knees, they were whacking at his joints like I’d told them to. It wasn’t quite working as well on Gaufrid’s fresher body, but he was definitely distracted and absolutely suffering.
And maybe that distraction was why Oisian was able to regain control of himself because there he came, a deathly fury of claws and teeth that tore into Gaufrid with horrible efficiency. In moments, Gaufrid was in several gory pieces on the lawn.
And a screaming mist zipped back toward Ravensgate, a damned soul sent back to Hell.
“Ambrose?” Saph was suddenly in my face. “No. Oh, gods, no…” he moaned.
“You’re hurt,” I whispered hoarsely. His right eye was swollen shut, deep cuts all over his beautiful face. My hand was shaking so badly I couldn’t reach him.
He grabbed my hand and it looked like he might be crying. Morning was here now, too, and they pulled on something that made pain spike in my guts. I cried out and remembered then that I’d been stabbed by that fucking necromancer. He’d killed me.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to say before I coughed up something warm and wet. “I thought I could win.”
“Youdidwin,” Saph said, his voice rough. “You distracted him so much that he lost control of Oisian and the ghouls. We’re all free because of you.”
Remembering what Morning had told me, I said, “Because I love you. He couldn’t have you because you’re mine.”
“That’s right.” Saph smiled, but it looked so sad.
“Why are you letting your mate die?”
I looked over at Oisian as he came to stand behind Saph. He appeared just as broken and bloody as my Saph, and I was glad for that for a second. But what had he said?
“Letting him?” Saph said with a snarl. “I’d stop it if I could.”
