Page 28 of Tricky Princess
We’re wasting time, Billy said, and that snapped Devon into action. He left them all behind and began running in the direction Garm and Billy had come from.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
They had dropped their packs behind a large bush and now spied on a group of creatures around a large fire. There were ten, like Garm had said, but they didn’t look like the old, pudgy hags he knew. These creatures looked deadly with their inky green skin, elongated fingers, and sharp claws. Their noses and ears were pointy, and it looked like none of them knew what a hairbrush was. Excitement radiated off of them as they spoke in a language Ros couldn’t understand. Sam was still alive. He looked furious, tied to a tree and gagged with a pine cone. They’d left him in his pickle print boxers, and he looked…shiny?
They want to eat him.
Ros’ powers cracked under his skin as the scents of fear and bloodlust wafted around him. He took a deep breath and then grabbed Devon, who was ready to bolt for Sam. They had a plan and needed to stick to it. Garm and Billy were already getting into position, creeping around the camp on opposite sides. Ros sent his shadows along the forest floor. They coiled around the ankles of four of the creatures and yanked them into the waiting maws of his friends. They both got to work, snapping and ripping heads and body parts. Ros and Devon only had a moment of surprise to attack the six that were left. They put themselves between Sam and the others. The hair on the back of Ros’ neck stood when their screams and howls shook the trees around them as they witnessed their ilk being killed. They didn’t have time to free Sam as they pounced. Claws and black teeth slashed and bit. Both men threw magic and wielded their daggers, fighting, blocking, and never allowing them near their next meal. They’d gotten three down by the time Billy and Garm joined them.
One hissed to Devon in that ancient and wild language. He snarled a “fuck you” back before jumping on it. He caught the creature’s neck in his free hand, and before it could claw and fight back, Devon rammed his dagger into the side of its skull. He yanked it out and stabbed it over and over again.
It was well beyond dead by the time the others were finished. Billy pried Devon back; he was still screaming and snarling like a beast himself.
It’s over, rang through Ros’ mind as Billy tried to calm him down.
Devon snapped out of it. After one last glance at the bloodied beast at his feet, he turned to a wide-eyed Sam. Ros hurried to cut down the rope they used to bind him to the tree. Devon went to his boyfriend, and with a gentleness he wasn’t showing moments ago, pulled the pine cone from Sam’s mouth.
“Did they hurt you?” Devon asked, searching Sam from head to toe.
He didn’t answer, only flung his arms around Devon and kissed him. Kissed him so hard and soundly that Ros and the others turned away to give them a moment. Ros couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Even after the short and brutal fight, warmth spread through him to see how happy his friend was. He was whole and with the person he loved. Both of his friends had found love—well, if you could call what Garm and Billy had love.
“How did they get you?” Garm asked, now in his human form.
Sam shivered before he could answer. “I’m not sure, but I was circling our site after hearing something, and the next thing I knew, I was hit over the head. I woke up when they tied me to that tree. They were rubbing something all over me.”
“Is that why you’re so greasy?” Devon asked.
Billy, also now on two legs, sniffed and grimaced. “Animal fat.” Sam looked like he was about to be sick. “If you weren’t such a damn snack, maybe you wouldn’t get kidnapped.”
“I think I’m well-seasoned too.” Sam tried to brush off the herbs that clung to his lard-covered body. “What were those things?”
Ros didn’t know; they weren’t anything he had witnessed in his long life. He looked toward Garm, but Billy answered.
“We don’t have a name for them, but they lived in this realm before the Gods arrived. They were left to haunt these woods.”
Sam shivered, and Ros glanced down at the dead creatures around them. Beasts older than the Gods? He had a lot to learn.
“Let’s go,” Garm said. “There is a stream ahead where you can wash off, and then we need to move before more creatures come for us.”
They all looked at each other. Ros swallowed hard, realizing that what came next would be the hardest part of their journey.
11
Ellea
SIX DAYS IN HEL
Ellea left Azzy’s study and headed toward the library. After almost a week of being in Hel, she was navigating the castle fairly well for someone with horrible direction. The demons and creatures had stopped scurrying around like they were afraid of her, and not a moment too soon; it had reminded her too much of being in Halifax. Each step into the hallway during those earlier days would have her stomach dropping to her feet and her magic roaring to scare them all. But now, she was finding a routine and some comfort. She was mostly left alone on her usual route from her room to the study and then to the library. Sometimes Duhne or Florence escorted her, but her “handlers” hadn’t picked her up today. So she opened her book and let her feet guide her from memory. She was on a mission to bug Viatrix for some more books. The one she was reading now was an ancient journal from one of the first dukes in Azzy’s court. He had passed away almost a thousand years ago, and his accounts were fascinating. It was a good distraction. Yes, she loved what she was learning, and all of her training had her feeling stronger than ever, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Ros, her friends, and her family.
She was getting through a passage on a time when Beelzebub had tried overthrowing Azzy when her magic zinged under her skin. It was a warning. She kept her stride steady and eyes on the pages, but let the sounds around her and any flicker of movement wash in. Under her lashes, she eyed an alcove about ten feet away. The shadows inside moved slightly, as though someone was hiding there.
With her eyes still trained on her book, she reached one hand down and feigned that she was fixing her billowy skirt. The closer she got to the alcove, the more her magic buzzed and her blood roared in her ears.
We aren’t afraid.
Her powers answered with a wicked caress. No, we are ready, they seemed to say, and Ellea smirked as her hand curled around the dagger that was hidden in the fabric of her skirt. A large scaly hand reached for her, curling around her upper arm and pulling her into the shadows. She didn’t even think. She didn’t take a second to worry that it was a friend. Her dagger thrust into armor-like skin. It would have held strong against a regular weapon, but hers was made of obsidian. A loud howl answered as she sliced through what she thought would be his groin area, and blood sizzled as the demon crumpled to the floor.
She yanked the dagger away and held it to its chin. “Who sent you?”
