He laughed low. “Very sure. I’m going to shove my cock so far down your throat you choke and give me those tears, and that’s only the start, Sky. I am going toruinyou.” Dark velvet shadows brushed my soul.
Maybe I wanted to be ruined.
“And as far as magic, I don’t know if you remember, but you practically exploded with it when you passed out. It’s in there. We’ll bring it out.”
I didn’t get to respond. Someone yelled outside, and everyone turned to look. The door opened. “Pres, we’ve got company.”
The leadership moved as one, putting me behind them and going for the door. The rest of the club was with them.
“Stay here,” Grave growled.
“Like hell.”
There were people outside the gate. Not too many, but enough. As soon as the club began to exit the Clubhouse inside the gates, they moved, yelling and jeering, throwing glass against the wrought iron. Sparks glinted in the newly dark night, flying over the gate and landing in the door directly behind me.
Glass shattered, and gas spread, burning pain tearing through me as the bottle exploded into flames.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
____________
SILVER
TOY SOLDIERS
The first Molotov exploded directly behind Skyla. Every instinct I hadroared. My senses sharpened and horizons expanded.
Three more bottle bombs flew and hit the roof of the clubhouse, spreading flames like wildfire. Delta slid next to Skyla, hauling her away from the flames, and Comet was already directing the people to take care of the fire.
Wraith stood by my side, and then we were moving. The members knew they where they were meant to be in an attack on the compound. Those meant to defend were already through the gate and over it.
Of course they fucking used Molatovs. Our patch was one. Fang probably thought it was beautifully symbolic and not juvenile.
I pulled my gun from the back of my jeans and shoved through the side gate, aiming for one of the runners. My shot hit him in the back. He went down, and his friends left him.
We didn’t need weapons. Our fae bodies were far more powerful than any human weapon. But you couldn’t beat a gun for quick range. Or making a point. They scattered quickly, like rats, back into the shadows. No bikes, but if this were Legion, they wouldn’t be that stupid.
The scent paths in front of us were laced with fear. Easy to follow. Humans couldn’t mask their scent or their emotions. One of the many reasons Skyla was so appealing. Every shift of her need and desire was written in her scent.
I walked over to the man on the ground, who was crawling, trying to make it to cover. He stank of piss and alcohol. But no magic. The fucker wasn’t even a warlock.
Kicking him onto his back, I pressed my boot to his chest. “Who sent you?”
Blood bubbled between his lips. “No one had to send us to take out bitches like you.”
I pointed the gun at his head. “When you’re rotting in hell, spend some time thinking about better last words for your next life.”
Pulling the trigger, his head was nothing but pulp on the pavement. “WRAITH.”
He appeared a minute later, chest heaving from running. “Take whoever you need. Follow the scents. I want every one of these fuckers on their knees in the plaza by eleven.”
“Got it.”
Shadows enveloped him, and he vanished. Wraith knew how to do his job. I didn’t question him. He would get it done.
I strode back to the gate and hauled it open. Flames licked at the Clubhouse. There would be damage, but it was under control. It wasn’t an attack meant to actually destroy the building. Anyone who wanted to try knew they would need more than some lit gasoline.
Skyla stood near the gate, braced against Jessie. The dancer turned sweetbutt who’d always been a good friend to her. Ghost lurked behind her, watching, just like Delta was watching as he healed Skyla’s back. “I’m fine,” she said. “Do what you need to do.”