Page 56 of The Satyr's Guilt
“I mean, nothing sane. A single thought isbouncing around in his cranium. That’s all.”
“What thought?”
“Power to Scath. Over and over again. On aloop.”
Cage trembled before he went into a full-onconvulsion. When he did, he shifted into the hideous semi-coyotefrom before.
Dax flipped a scowl at Tyr. “Two fuckingdays to find him, and he’s gone.”
Tyr nodded.
The vampire Firebrand wrapped both palmsaround Cage’s neck and twisted it off his shoulders. With noremorse, he tossed the head onto the couch. Walking to the sink, heturned on the faucet, rinsing blood from his hands.
“Let’s go chat with my other lead,” he saidto Tyr.
The warlock shrugged. “I gotyour back, vampire.”
****
Jarek planted the point of his spear intothe ground as he did each morning when he exited his steelfortified yurt at the Encampment Stronghold to inspect his command.The gesture demonstrated his trust. He put his life in their hands.In turn, they offered him their loyalty. A just trade.
Being a Scion Firebrand was a legacy. ThePhoenix called to service only those with an ancestor who hadserved.
His grandfather Anthive once marched withthe legendary Ten Thousand Immortals. His father also reported toduty. Jarek followed in his ancestors’ footsteps, protecting Scath,Darque, and even Earth. Now he was a commander.
At six-foot-eight with a solid build, hisshoulders were as wide as most big-ass berserkers while hisfighting skills inspired mythic tales. Few of his warriors dared tospar with him these days. Those who did wanted to improve theircombat knowhow and didn’t care if they limped away with brokenbones, bleeding wounds, and concussions.
Jarek eyed his command, a ragtag bunch ofmisfits who dressed like the thieves, murderers, rogues, andassassins who roamed Scath. Some wore pelts of slain beasts in themanner of berserkers. Others wrapped desert scarves around theirfaces in the style of Arabs. The rest were bareheaded with longhair worn loose, pulled back, or braided. Scars as plentiful astheir tattoos decorated war-tested bodies. They sent a clearmessage to those Aeternals bent on breaking the laws.We are themeanest mutherfuckers in the realm.Jarek counted himself atthe front of the line.
Darius stepped forward. “Commander.” Hisvoice was low, hoarse. A scar ran from under his left brow, down tohis jawbone and neck. A century ago, a berserker nearly severed hishead, messing with his vocal cords. Darius hid the scar with asnake tattoo twisting along the path of the wound. The Firebrandsobeyed Jarek’s right-hand male without question. Nobody everknowingly pissed him off.
Jarek nodded at his second. “I received acall last night from someone with intel on a female sex slave. Shecould be who Aisen is rumored to have sold minutes before hisfacility was raided.”
While Aisen along with his vamp brotherSilas worked for Cerberus, they imprisoned humans who had a splashof witch or warlock DNA hidden in their genetic markers. Thecaptives not testing as Blood Coven descendants were sold off toAeternals for a high price. All quite illegal.
Murmurs rolled through the gatheredwarriors.
Darius raised a hand to stop the chit-chat.“Where is she?”
Original intel on the locations of purchasedslaves came from a loose-lipped satyr, captured in the raid on astockade of Silas and Aisen’s. The asshole traded the names of allbuyers he could remember for less pain. Empty of additionalknowledge, he met his death with his bowels intact along with mostof his skin. Recently, Jarek’s warriors relied on rumor and reportsfrom citizens.
“The male caller said she was outside theberserker village of Longphort. In the mountains. He refused to saywho has her.”
One side of Darius’s mouth warped into asneer. “Let’s pack up.”
“When nobody talks?” Norum, a longtimeberserker Firebrand, decorated his ears with the bones of hisvictims, his own brand of bling. “It’s the village’s MO. There is astandard among them. DNT.”
The warrior braids at Jarek’s templesslapped against his shoulders when he nodded. “I am aware of thedo-not-talk rule. When we tire of the silent treatment from thelocals, we start ransacking the berserkers’ homes, tearing aparteach room.”
Someone shouted from the line. “Yeah. Tossthe places good.”
The thrill of a fight was already racingthrough the Firebrands, flood waters through a canyon. Soon, itwould be hard to hold his warriors back.
Kara, an Amazon, wore the skull of a Darquewere-tiger on her head. “Permission to open a can of whoop-ass ifthey aren’t forthcoming with the info?” She grinned, shoving herthumbs into the rear pockets of her low-slung jeans. She licked herlips like a big cat who’d targeted a weak gazelle.
“Permission granted. Now if I may continue.We portal to the north edge of the berserker village, going on footfrom there. When we get to the lodgings, we’ll split up, each of ustaking a different dwelling. I have a search grid already marked.Gather around.”
When Jarek spread the map out on a tabletop,Darius directed the warriors to memorize their assigned areas.“When you have finished questioning the berserkers in your sector,start tossing their places if you suspect they’re holding out.Clear?”
