Page 98 of Tricky Princess
Sam quickly kissed her on the cheek before Ros shadowed them back to their own room.
“How did you know they were doing the dirty?” Ellea asked.
Ros didn’t have that type of power; half the time, he was too aloof or grumpy to realize what was right in front of his nose.
“I didn’t,” he said with a smirk. “But a demon can hope.”
“You’re horrible,” she said, heading to the bathroom to wash away the dream and new fears.
She felt Ros come in and stand at the open door while she splashed cold water on her face.
“Are you okay, princess?” he asked with such a soft voice.
Was she okay?
She looked at him from his bathroom mirror while she wiped the water from her face. Turning, she leaned against the sink and sighed.
“I was hoping for a longer break between kidnappings, parents’ murdering sprees, and vampire attacks.” She looked down at his black tiled floor.
Ros’ bare feet walked into her view, and he gripped her chin, making her look at him.
“None of this is your fault.”
She couldn’t help but pout. “It sure as shit feels like it.”
“That feeling will never stop.” He pulled her bottom lip from her teeth, and her skin instantly heated regardless of their conversation. “And outside of your parents, I feel like all the work you’re going to do will not be easy.”
“Fuck,” she breathed. Her parents were an instant mood killer.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“I’m not feeling tired anymore,” she said as he grasped her hand and pulled her out of the bathroom. “I think if you read to me, maybe it would help me sleep.”
She batted her lashes at him as he turned to her with a face she couldn’t quite read.
“Anything for you,” he said.
And damn, if that didn’t make her melt.
36
Rosier
They were fucked. There was no getting around how unbelievably fucked they were. The past two days of planning were burning in a trashcan somewhere, and he was ready to burn with it. Everyone was injured and running low on magic and energy, and the vampires kept coming. Ellea’s vision had been correct, but they’d missed something in their scouting. He wasn’t sure how they’d miscounted the mass number of volatile fuckers. The addition of the west coast pack hadn’t even mattered.
As the second hour of battle turned into the third, Ros began questioning how they would get through this. Going to Hel for help wasn’t an option; he didn’t have the time or magic. The same was true for Florence and Duhne. His cousin was soaked in blood, but it didn’t seem like it was his. And he looked like he enjoyed it. A feral roar rang around the massive demon as he tore a vampire in half, holding the severed ribcage in the air. Several vampires began running from him, and he laughed at their retreating forms. Florence paused her fighting to glare at Duhne. He guessed his cousin missed their time on the battlefield and was using this catastrophe to sate his bloodlust.
Ellea’s magic had held out longer than all of theirs. She continued to shield with illusions or power and then cut down any threat with his mother’s sword—her sword. She swung a graceful arc, its dark design swallowing the light. The same design marked his spine. He wished he had time to watch the beauty of her fighting, the rawness and unrelenting strength she showed with each parry, each counter attack. He could look at the feral glee on her face all day. Ellea roared, and Ros turned to see yet another vampire bite her. The bite wouldn’t turn her, it only turned non-supernaturals, but he still had to fight the urge to go to her. He had his own group of fifty or so to kill. Her pale skin was peppered with bite marks and blood, but she kept pushing through. They all kept pushing through.
Sam and Billy were working with two other wolven. They would dance around the outskirts of the battle, picking off vampires as they tried to enter the main fight. Devon and Ellea had worked side by side, one always there to help the other. Devon’s magic had dwindled first, but the recent training he’d done was paying off as he fought with knives and force. He would hold off as many as he could and Ellea would go in for the kill.
Ros kicked in the chest of an oncoming attacker as Garm swooped in to bite off his head.
I don’t know what to do, Garm yelled, mind to mind.
“I don’t know what to fucking do either,” Ros yelled.
Can we retreat?
