Bel commanded, “Open the Gate.”
A crack of thunder shook the ground.
I sucked in a quick breath and spread my legs to steady myself. I placed a bracing hand on Bel’s left shoulder and gripped his shirt in a tight fist.
The air pressure changed, pushing at me.
My muscles clenched at the odd sensation.
Bright light flooded my eyes.
I squinted and stepped closer to my lover, not releasing my hold on him. Until my eyes adjusted to the bright light. My mouth bobbed, and a chuckle built up inside my throat, but I bit it back with much force.
The Gate was open.
We’d arrived just in time for naked playtime.
Four druids—three men and one woman—had paused in their sexual act together, their heads all jerking up and turning in our direction.
A peculiar gurgling noise erupted from Bel’s throat before he whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Gwen, the head. Get the fucking head for me.”
He stuffed the Original vampire amulet and the Original druid amulet down into his pockets while I quickly unzipped his backpack and yanked the head out. Smooth like, I slid the head down and passed it off to his left hand by his leg.
Just as fast, he tossed King Niallan’s head past the Gate’s entrance into the grotto. It bounced twice and rolled once on the smooth orange-brown stone ground before it stopped moving.
I zipped up his backpack with one hand and then placed my palms on the handles of my guns holstered at my thighs.
This was just fucking bizarre.
I was pretty sure I had an eyelash in my eye, too.
Way to enter a magical island. With tears.
I blinked rapidly trying to dislodge it. But…
False alarm, thank fuck. My vision cleared.
Right as…one of the men jumped to his feet.
And raced as fast as he could toward us.
I squinted and shook my head. I had to be seeing shit, like a magical illusion from the place, the naked man far too familiar.
Instinct screamed that this was no illusion.
What the fuck?
My lover was no help. He just stood there in shock.
Using my vampire speed, I sped in front of Bel.
I unholstered my guns and aimed true.
The man skidded to a stop, his hooded gaze captured by the weapons in my hands. He lifted a blond brow, and muttered, “I haven’t seen that type of gun before.”
“You’re dead. And if you want proof, you’re standing next to your head,” I hissed, baring my fangs. “How the fuck are you here, Niallan?”
The man’s blond head tipped down and stared at the head on the ground. He used his bare left foot to turn it around to see the face. He grunted as he stared down at it, his attention wholly captured by it.
