Until someone did scream.
No, not a scream—a roar. It was faint, but I heard it. And I recognized the voice. It was Braxen. He was in pain.
My blood heated. Shivers ran over my arms, leaving behind a different person. I felt the change come over me. I was no longer Lora but Lomasi, mate to a Cerberus. In seconds, I was tearing down the driveway in the truck, my jaw clenched as hard as my hands on the steering wheel. I came to a stop just a foot from the front door and jumped out. I felt possessed as I set foot on the back bumper and launched myself into the truck bed. I wasn't a ninja. I didn't even play one on TV. I had no idea what I was doing.
No, that's wrong. I had an idea, but it was fueled by videos from the Internet. So much could go wrong. But I wasn'tthinking about that. Braxen's bellow had cracked me open, and I was coming out of my shell, reborn. A fucking warrior butterfly.
With crisp movements, I opened the RPG's case and then the one that held the ammunition. The thing was basically a large tube with one side wider than the other. Not at all like the huge things you see in movies. But hopefully, it would pack the same punch. I loaded it, knelt, set the thing on my shoulder, and aimed it at the front door. Bad idea. Such a bad idea. The guys could be right behind that door. But something told me they weren't. That roar had been too faint. So, I pulled the trigger.
And I screeched as not only did the rocket shoot out from the front of the RPG but fire also exploded out the back, and I went tumbling into the side of the truck. A cloud of smoke floated over my head—from both the weapon and the house. The boom of the thing seemed to shake the world.
When I got up, I was glad that I'd been blasted on my ass. There was debris everywhere, but the truck bed had protected me from most of it. The whole front of the house was gone, broken furniture and charred carpet showing through the hole like rotten teeth. Fire ate at the remains like a scavenger, but was only gnawing for the moment. My ears rang a bit, but nothing bad, and my immortal healing would soon take care of that.
Sure enough, as I loaded a machine gun, my hearing came back in full force, bringing shouts and screams to my notice. The neighbors were probably calling the police. I nodded to myself and climbed out of the truck, the unwieldy weapon hanging off my shoulder. As if I thought I was fucking Ripley, I strode to the hole in the house and positioned the gun. I guess an escaped soul from the Underworld was a type of alien.
“Hold on, boys,” I growled. “Mama's coming.”
Climbing over debris and dodging little fires, I entered the remains of the house. There was more left than I thought, the structure going back and down. I knew about the downstairs because there were holes in the foyer floor, and I could see straight down into a basement bedroom. I carefully navigated the mess, my hands steady and stare swinging. Searching for any sign of my Cerberus.
Another roar came, this one triumphant.
I turned, heading toward the sound.
Men came racing down the hallway I was in. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
“Damn it,” I muttered as I flipped off the safety.
“What the fuck?” one of the men exclaimed as the group came to a stumbling halt.
“Give Hades my regards,” I growled and tried again.
This time, it worked. And this time, I was prepared to be launched backward and set my right foot firmly behind me. But the kickback wasn't anything like the RPG. Still, my wide-legged stance came in handy, steadying me as I mowed the men down. A thrill raced down my spine as I watched them crumple. It was probably wrong to take delight in killing people, but these bastards had tried to hurt good men who had given up their afterlives to protect the world.
Before I could step over the bodies, another wave of people came running down the corridor. I didn't hesitate. I fired until the gun clicked. Empty.
“Shit,” I muttered as I stared at the bodies. “I have to go back to the truck.”
But then came the sound of heavy footsteps. I tossed the machine gun on the floor and pulled a handgun out of the waistband of my jeans. Calmly, I aimed, cupping the bottom of the handle with one palm, and waited for my enemy to appear.
Three men came around the corner. I flinched, just stopping myself in time before I pulled the trigger. They were covered in blood, so much blood that I couldn't tell where or how they were injured. But I still recognized my men. Yes, mine. The word cemented itself in my mind.
Mine.
And woe betide anyone who tried to hurt them.
“Holy fuck,” Rune whispered.
“Lomasi?” Braxen stumbled forward.
“Are there any more of them?” I demanded.
They looked at the bodies, then at the destruction behind me.
“Uh, no. I think you got them, sweetheart,” Merrick said.
Braxen got to me first. He gently took the gun from my hand and pulled me into his arms.
The other two processed.
