“He’s the one who teleported you?” Dayne asked.
“Yes,” Xeno said. “Brought me back, and I knocked him out. He’s irritating and whiny.”
“Interesting.” Dayne pulled a taser from the back of his waist, aimed, and hit Niall in the leg. Niall’s body jerked several times, and blood dripped from his ear. “Bet you forgot to tase him.”
Xeno lifted one white eyebrow. “You know, I did forget.” He looked at Mercy and smiled, his fangs glistening. “Though apparently others did not.”
Bollocks. Now Niall couldn’t get the president out of there. Mercy had dropped her knife in the blast of fire. She looked around for a weapon. Anything she could use to get free. The fireplace poker looked heavy. She could ram it through Xeno’s throat. Maybe?
Something exploded in front of headquarters, shaking the entire castle. The chandelier swung wildly, and Mercy’s heart jumped hard. Was Logan there?
Shouts and screams of pain filled the silence along with gunfire and several more explosions.
“Lord? You should take your leave,” Xeno said grimly, drawing his sword.
Two Cyst soldiers rushed inside and slammed the door, taking up defensive positions, guns in hand and swords at their waists.
Dayne nodded. “Let’s go. Bring her.” He waved carelessly at the president and strode for the back door, shoving it open to reveal a Blackhawk waiting on the wide lawn. The second he appeared outside, it lit up, revealing two pilots already in place and ready to fly.
Xeno looked at his soldiers. “No quarter. Kill anyone who challenges you.” He turned toward the president and ripped her bindings apart.
Mercy launched herself at the fireplace poker and swung it at his head as hard as she could. “Run!” she yelled at the president, hitting him again and trying to shove it through his throat.
The president scrambled for a letter opener, slicing it toward Xeno.
Mercy yanked the poker free and struck him again, simultaneously kicking at his balls. “President Dawn, please go,” she screamed, trying to hold Xeno off. “You have to survive.” The president was needed to lead their people, and she had to get her ass out of there. “Go. Please.”
The president faltered, then nodded, turning and running outside and away from the helicopter.
Xeno roared, his fangs dropping. He shoved Mercy in the shoulder, and she careened across the office to collide with the fireplace. Pain exploded down her side, and she fell to her butt. He ran outside after the president.
Mercy’s stomach heaved, but she forced herself to stand, facing the two Cyst soldiers.
The sound of a heavy boot hitting the door came right before the wood cracked in two. Logan Kyllwood burst inside and took one soldier down while Garrett followed in pursuit of the other. They were fast and brutal in their attack.
The helicopter rose outside.
Mercy remained still, unable to move. The immortals fought hard, but soon the Cyst soldiers were dead.
Logan rose, bloody and battered, his eyes a furious hue. “Hello, mate.”
Chapter 41
Logan helped Mercy into the private plane, his temper nowhere close to being appeased. “You flying?” he asked Garrett.
Garrett glanced from Mercy to Logan. “Yep. I’ll be up with the pilot.” He tapped his ear comm. “The Fae have been rounded up and are being flown to demon headquarters in a Realm 747. We should beat them there by an hour or so.” Then he made himself scarce.
Logan shut the door and nudged his mate into a seat. Every bone in his body hurt, but that pain was nothing compared to the raging ache in his temples. “You have one minute to explain to me how you ended up in a fucking hell world when I told you to return to my cabin.”
The plane rushed down the runway and he took the seat next to her before he fell on his ass. His strength was nowhere near back. But as her gardenia scent filled his head, his blood started to pump faster. He allowed her to remain silent until they had ascended and the plane leveled off. Then he waited.
She crossed her arms and looked straight ahead, at a flat-screen television big enough to be viewed from all six leather seats.
“We need to talk,” he murmured, feeling his legs starting to heal. Finally.
“No.” Her mulish response failed to amuse him this time.
He reached for her, lifting her with one hand to straddle him. She planted both hands on his chest and pushed, trying to jump off his lap. “Settle,” he ordered, keeping her in place until she stopped struggling. Now they could talk. He relaxed a fraction—and thus didn’t see the punch to the neck coming until she landed it.
