Page 115 of Tricky Princess
“Find Loki,” he said, taking a final breath as the magic in him died. “I have loved you since the beginning.”
He stilled in her arms, and Ellea screamed, screamed for all the hate and years lost, screamed for the father she never had or would have. If she could kill her mother again, she would. She would travel to the pits of Hel and find Cerce’s ravaged soul. She would teach that foul woman what torture really was.
Her body wracked with pain as she closed his eyes and brushed away his hair. Never again would a trickster suffer for what they were. It was a promise and a curse to whoever would stop her. The weight on her shoulders disappeared as a thud and a clink of armor sounded behind her. With her father still in her lap, she turned to see Ros being dragged away by two of Hel’s guards.
45
Rosier
Ros didn’t have time to register what was happening. He had his hands on Ellea, holding her as she grieved, and then he was on his ass, looking up at two of Beelzebub’s guards.
“What the fuck?” he cursed, trying to get away.
That battle had gone by quickly, and he wondered how his friends were doing. He wondered if Ellea’s parents were only a small part of this fucked-up situation. Maybe Cato’s sacrifice had been enough to save him from the pits and Beelzebub’s torture. Well, not his; his uncle was too lazy for that, but he employed the nastiest demons.
“Ros?” Ellea called, her voice thick with emotion.
Later; he would figure this all out later. His magic screamed and burned as he was dragged farther away from her. He threw shadows at the beasts, grabbing them by the ankles. They both fell to the ground with pained thuds.
I don’t have time for this.
He jumped to his feet only to find soldiers with their swords drawn. They were surrounded by the destruction the little battle had left. Windows were shattered, cars overturned. The council would have to pay to fix things—and then some more things after Ros finished with these assholes.
Their cold dead eyes were pools of blackness as they glared at Ros. Their dark armor glinted with menace, and soon they would be covered with blood. They all readied into battle formation, slapping their breastplates once and then widening their stances, ready to attack.
“Fuck.”
He turned to look at Ellea, catching her gently laying her father’s head on the ground. He wanted to buy her more time, but life was cruel; she would not get the chance to grieve. That would have to wait. Turning back, Belias emerged from the group of soldiers.
“Fucking Belias,” Ellea hissed, coming up behind him and wiping at her face.
“What do you want, cousin?” Ros sneered.
He could still hear the snarls of demons and vampires in the distance as their friends’ battle still raged. He could portal to them quickly—it was a short distance—but curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.
“Peace, love, and Hel,” Belias said with a smirk. “Not in that order.”
Belias looked toward Ellea, and Ros wanted to carve his eyes out for the way he appraised her. He would carve his eyes out when this was over anyway. Belias was out of chances.
“Hello, Ellea,” Belias said with a bow. He went to say something else, but a giant iridescent beast bolted from a nearby street and wrapped its massive maw around his body as if it were nothing. The beast bounded around a stop sign as the guards watched their “leader” get swept away, drool coating his pristine suit. They didn’t move until Belias shouted, “Seize them!”
After a second of confused glances, they turned and attacked. He and Ellea groaned with exhaustion, and she looked toward her dead mother. Ros knew she wanted her sword, so he wrapped his shadows around the hilt and whipped it toward her waiting hand.
“Thanks, big man.” She smiled weakly.
They were taking a long vacation when this was over. Somewhere sunny, where she could have endless margaritas and could fill her time with reading and fucking. He wanted to see her free of worry, skin flushed from the sun and all the ways he would worship her.
“Almost there,” he promised, and then lunged to the right as she took the left.
They clashed and roared. Ellea’s electricity made short work of a handful of soldiers. He would try and not kill them all to leave a few for questioning later. How did Belias get out of Hel, and what the fuck was he doing? He hadn’t even blinked at the sight of Cerce and Cato’s bodies. Ros thought he would’ve cared a little since they had been conniving for Gods knew how long.
Months ago, Belias had offered to partner with him, and Ros cursed himself for not looking into it more. What was the point? Why would he want alliances? The rulers of Hel all had their places, plenty of power, and time to live whatever life they wanted. Why search for more? And why involve Ellea’s parents? Bel would have to be the biggest idiot if he’d thought that would work. Whatever his endgame, it wouldn’t be worth it.
Ros shot a wave of helfire at ten soldiers, incinerating them where they stood. They didn’t even have time to scream. Even though he wavered slightly from such an intense use of power, the beast inside him roared for more. It was ready to give its all to stop the attack, to make sure Ellea was safe. He hated himself for not listening to his beast, for ignoring the signs and smothering it under all the darkness and ash. They had the same goal: get Ellea, keep her safe, and love her forever. If only he had realized that sooner.
Two soldiers came for him with swords raised. Lunging back, his heart slowed as he readied to counter-attack. With his exhale, he landed a dagger in the thigh of one and turned to come down on the other with his sword. He breathed in, stepping back before burying his sword under their armor. As he pulled back, blood and innards fell to the ground. Ellea’s roar had him turning, catching her shocking two men until they were unconscious, foam spilling from their mouths.
“Let’s keep two alive, princess.” He scooped her into his arms quickly, kissing her with so much passion before depositing her back on her feet for another attack.
