That’s what Garrett had figured. “Okay. I know they’re all invited to Hope’s twenty-first birthday party. Tell them they should come. It’s time to bring the Realm in on this, and it’s the only way to get to Hope.” Hope was the Lock, whatever that meant. To him, it meant he’d take out Ulric before she had to get involved. He watched Dessie keep writing notes as she walked. Withering purple asters perked up as she passed. Now he had another reason to end Ulric before any ritual could be performed.
Logan sighed. “I have about half of the Seven on board, but Benny’s being a dick.”
Benny’s default setting was dick. “I’ll call him later tonight.” Garrett paused. “Scratch that. I’ll have Hope call him with a special invitation later.” The guy was a sucker for females, starting with his mate and twin girls. He also had three sons now, and no doubt they were as crazy as Benny, even though they were toddlers aged one to three years old.
“Smart,” Sam observed, still texting. “I had Bear reach out to the dragons about Dessie, and they haven’t heard of her. Bear’s take is that they’re not the enemy who blitzed her island. His instincts are usually spot-on.”
Garrett reached for the door before Dessie could. A chill clacked down his back. The wind picked up.
Logan and Sam instantly stilled.
“Dessie—” Garrett swung around and took her to the ground, covering her with his body. The glass blew out as the building exploded. Kurjan soldiers poured from the surrounding trees, knives flashing. “Stay down.” He was up in a second, ducking his head and charging the oncoming mass.
Logan and Sam pivoted to fight.
Garrett slid his knife free of his sheath, already slashing with it. One Kurjan pulled a gun and shot lasers at him that turned to bullets the second they hit flesh. The guy aimed for center mass. Garrett flashed his teeth as the bullets dropped uselessly to ping on the ground. “Fused torso, asshole.” He stabbed the Kurjan in the gut and yanked, slicing up to his neck. The soldier’s purple eyes widened, and he gasped. Blood bubbled on his lips, and he fell to the side.
Another Kurjan, this one with flaming red hair tipped in black, tackled Garrett into the side of the burning building. Glass imbedded in his arm, and pain flashed. Growling, he punched the jackass hard in the mouth, breaking all of the guy’s teeth. Then he kept going, rolling them over and punching the Kurjan’s pale face until he went slack.
Man, he missed the days when the Kurjans couldn’t venture out in daylight. A quick glance at Dessie confirmed she’d scrambled away from the fiery building and had her back to one of the SUV’s tires. Blood flowed down a cut in her forehead, and she mopped at it, her hands shaking.
A Kurjan soldier moved for her, and Logan tackled him in the other direction, hitting the ground hard enough to send up shards of asphalt.
Sam flipped a Kurjan over his shoulder and followed the enemy down with a blade to the neck. Blood spurted across Sam’s face, and he winced, removing his knife and wiping off his cheeks with his sleeve. Kurjan blood burned skin.
Garrett turned and blocked a knife attack from another soldier. It was a squad of six, and more were probably on the way. He needed to get Dessie out of there, and now. The soldier swung at his neck again, and Garrett moved under his arm, headbutted him, and slammed both hands against the offender’s wrist. The bone snapped loudly. The Kurjan yelled and dropped the knife. Garrett grabbed him around the neck and took him down, landing with his knee on the guy’s nuts.
The Kurjan shrieked.
Garrett leaned in, his fangs dropping. “Who are you here to kill?”
The Kurjan flopped beneath him. “Her. The girl.”
Shit. “Why?”
“Fuck you.”
Garrett pulled back his arm and punched the soldier several times in the head until he flopped unconscious. “We’ll take this one with us.”
He turned and stood just as a Kurjan soldier, bleeding from the neck, approached Dessie.
Her eyes widened. Then she partially sat up, set her knee on the concrete, and bowed. “My Lord,” she murmured.
What the holy fuck?
* * * *
Dessie moved into the proper deferential position automatically. Then she caught herself and tried to back away.
Garrett was instantly behind the monk, slashing a blade into his neck. The monk cried out, and his blood sprayed toward her. She held up her arms, and they burned. Crying out, she frantically wiped her arms off on her jeans.
Dessie struggled to her feet, the world spinning around her. The building was on fire, punctuated by mini-explosions every few minutes. Flaming debris drifted down. Orange smoke billowed into the sky, and the ground was littered with the bodies of the monks.
Except they looked a little different from the monks she’d known. Some of these had red tips on their black hair, some had red hair with black tips, and they all had weird-looking eyes. Red or purple. She’d never seen anything like it.
She coughed into her arm, trying not to smell blood. The coppery scent competed with the smoke.
“Dessie. Move,” Garrett ordered, hefting one of the monks over his shoulder. “This way.”
