Phoenix Reborn (Alpha Pack, #7.5)(31)
The commander pulled out his cell phone, answering an incoming call with a greeting loud enough to be heard over the engine and whirling blades. “Jarrod, what’s going on?” After a brief conversation, he ended the call and keyed the handheld radio that would send his voice through their headsets.
“Got a bad situation fifty miles north, a panicked family under siege by what they described to the dispatcher at the sheriff’s office as large beasts with wings.” He let that sink in as the copter lifted into the air through the portal in the hangar’s roof, and several of the team cursed.
Micah almost choked. “Demons?”
“Demons are my best guess,” Nick confirmed for the benefit of those listening on units in the other helicopters. “We haven’t fought anything this lethal in a while. They’re going to make the goblins look like poodles. You guys ready?”
A chorus of Fuck yeah and We got this chimed in through the headsets, and Micah grinned in spite of the sliver of fear that send shards of ice sliding into his blood. Some things never changed. The Pack never backed down from an enemy. Never.
“Watch the fangs and claws,” Nick went on. “Their venom can be deadly, even for shifters. Go for the kill, fast. Don’t listen to anything they might say, or engage in a verbal confrontation. Let the bastards get into your head, and you’re f*cked. They love to take slaves to the Underworld almost as much as they love to kill—which is probably why the family they’re trying to get to isn’t dead yet. They’re toying with the poor people, but they won’t wait much longer.”
Micah shuddered. Of all the horrors never to experience, aside from his own kidnapping and torture, being taken to the Underworld and subjected to whims of demons were right among the top five. According to legend, the demons answered to Hades. Was that even true?
Another item to add to the list.
Let’s not find out.
Across from Micah, Kalen and John were talking. Glancing next to him at Rowan, he was disconcerted to find her observing him worriedly. Shaking his head to stave off any questions or lectures, he looked across to Ryon to find the man staring at him. Or, not at Micah, exactly.
More like, glancing around him.
“Man, what are you looking at?” he growled.
The other man stilled for a few moments, eyes glazing over, which was creepy as hell. Then he met Micah’s gaze and simply said, “Later.”
“What?”
“I’ll talk to you about it later.”
“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?” A suspicion struck him. “You seein’ dead people again?
Around me?”
Ryon’s grim silence was answer enough.
“Who are they?” Rowan demanded, startled.
“Seriously, f*ck that shit. Tell ’em to buzz off.”
Ryon just sighed and turned his gaze out the open side of the Huey. “Doesn’t work that way. Wish it did.” He refused to say more, and silence descended between the three of them.
“Go on, fly away,” Micah hissed to the spirits or whatever was hovering near him. Of course, he couldn’t sense them, but that didn’t mean it bothered him any less.
Ryon knew they were there, and that was good enough evidence for him. What the f*ck did they want?
Ryon gave a negative shake of his head to indicate that hadn’t worked to send away the spirits, and went back to watching the forest whiz past below them.
Well, Micah’s friend didn’t seem too concerned, so apparently there was no immediate danger. Putting it out of his mind for now, he closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the coming battle. Demons were big bastards. Shut out their voices. Get underneath them. Avoid sharp objects. Go for a quick kill, head and heart. Easy. Like taking a Sunday stroll.
Okay, maybe not that simple. But Micah couldn’t deny he was looking forward to the fight. Anticipation began to pump through him the closer they got to their destination, and by the time the Hueys landed in a meadow surrounded by mountains, his mind was totally focused on the job.
As soon as they were clear to move around, his sister and John bailed from the helicopter without looking back. With their particular Psy gifts—Rowan was a Dreamwalker and Hammer a Tracer—they would fight better in human form, with weapons, like when they had been in law enforcement. Kalen’s panther was lethal, but his skills as a Sorcerer were essential in a battle against such a formidable enemy, so he remained dressed in his dark jeans and long leather duster. Micah, Nick, and Aric shed their clothes quickly and shifted into their wolf forms.
Nick, a large white wolf, led them about a hundred yards from the helicopters. Jaxon Law, RetroCog/Timebender/ gray wolf and the Pack’s second in command, strode quickly to the head of the group in human form to stand with Nick and John. Jax was an imposing figure, tall and muscular with short black hair and a neat goatee. He was a son of a bitch in a fight, too, no matter what form he chose.
“Listen up,” Jax called out. Then he pointed over the meadow to the north. “The homestead is just over the rise, about a mile and a half away. Unless the demons are stone deaf, they heard the copters, which means we need to strike fast. Hopefully the noise distracted them and bought the family some time, but that and landing closer meant sacrificing the element of surprise. Hit those f*ckers fast and hard! Let’s go!”
Handing the enemy advance warning of your arrival?