Page 113 of Death Warden
Young.
Shit, these guys were barely adults. How had I not noticed that? Cannon fodder for the Mageri, maybe?
“Okay,” one of them said. “Just…don’t die.”
They made to back away, then froze. Their chests jutted out, mouths opened wide, and then they slumped to the ground, dead.
“What the fuck just happened?” Curo demanded.
The door of the house opened, and a figure stepped out. Bare-chested, barefoot, and wearing black joggers.
“Fin!” My pulse quickened with relief.
He locked his gaze on me and smiled, a sly, slick, smarmy smile. One I’d seen in my dreams, on the man with Fin’s face.
“Hello, Adienne Blackmore,” Dralos said.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
Dralos sauntered onto the porch and several robed figures spilled out of the house behind him. I recognized their faces. The Sisters of the Golden Apple stood with blank expressions as if awaiting instructions.
I switched to gray sight and bit back a gasp. Ethereal twisted forms clung to each sister. Souls from the spirit plane. These females were possessed, and the spirits possessing them were all connected to Dralos.
But Dralos wasn’t here, not really. There was a crimson fracture behind him, and dark tendrils of ether pushed out of it, gripping onto Finley’s body and leaving a network of inky veins across his skin, stuff that was invisible when not seen in gray sight.
“He has Finley,” Curo said.
“You can see it?”
“Yes.”
Of course, as a lich, Curo could see gray sight. So could the hellhounds.
“It is so good to finally meet you in the flesh,” Dralos said. “Although I have enjoyed our little dream get-togethers.” He made Finley grin at me.
“Let him go. It’s me you want.”
“Actually, I want you both.” He looked over the fence toward the fight. “And I want revenge on all who thwarted me. All those who kept me from claiming my debt.” Anger flashed in Finley’s eyes. “A trade is a fucking trade!”
His rage was a blast of icy air that burned my skin with cold fire.
I didn’t give a shit about the Mageri council. He could slaughter them for all I cared, but not all the Mageri were power-hungry. Some were from other bloodlines. Ones unrelated to the three that made a deal with Dralos.
They didn’t deserve to die. “Hey! Don’t you think you should focus on the prize first?”
“What are you doing?” Curo demanded.
Logan nudged me with his shoulder, a question in his amber eyes.
Honestly, I had no clue. I was going on instinct. And my instinct told me to get Dralos back onto the spirit plane.
I dropped my voice to a whisper, relying on Logan’s hellhound hearing to pick up what I said.
“I’m gonna make my move. When I do, find his body and destroy it. Leave the rest to me.” I canted my head and smirked at Dralos. “You do want me, don’t you?”
His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. “I’m owed.”
I broke away from the guys and headed up the porch steps. “Then come get me.” I ran at him, noting the flare of shock in Finley’s eyes a moment before I slammed into him, taking him out of gray sight and through the fracture, straight into the spirit plane.
