A Clash of Storms (A Shade of Vampire #50)(17)

“I’m just saying,” I grunted, shifting my position until I ended up riding the pretend-flying horse, with the Destroyer’s massive, rock-hard body awkwardly behind me. “Once this is over, you two will get the feast of your lives. I can promise you that!”

“I can promise you that.” The shifter-Destroyer hissed its approval, delight oozing from its husky voice.

We caught a clear aerial path ahead, Destroyers flying away from us and closer to the troops below, while the green fireflies were spread out toward the northern and western sides of the castle. We were going full speed ahead into one of the windows. I braced myself for the impact, wrapping my arms around the flying horse’s thick neck just before we crashed through the window. Glass shards scratched the sides of my face, and we landed with a thud in a narrow hallway.

It took the shifter-horse a few good feet to come to a halt, enough for both the pretend-Destroyer and me to shake off the broken glass and get a good look at where we’d ended up. We were in a narrow corridor with black stone walls and green fire torches.

I paled once I realized that Azazel could be watching through those flames.

“We need to put the fires out,” I said as I jumped off the horse and knocked one of the torches off the wall. I stomped on it with my boot until the green flame died out.

The shifters reverted to their original forms, thin, hairless creatures with pale, almost translucent skin, and quickly put out the others, waiting for my instructions as I collected the shield, the sword, and the satchel they’d left behind where they’d shifted, several feet from the window.

I looked around, lifting an eyebrow at the sight of the gaping hole we’d made through that large window. Only the wooden frame remained. This had once been an elegant residence, I briefly thought to myself—a smooth combination of natural stone, glass, and woodcraft, worthy of a nineteenth century nobleman at least.

“I thought Patrik was supposed to wait for us here,” I muttered.

“I am.” A male voice made me freeze.

I looked ahead and saw a tall, naked man with curly black hair and blue eyes grinning at me from the end of the corridor. Another, equally naked man stood next to him.

“Pa-Patrick?” I croaked, instantly looking away, my eyes nearly burned out of their orbits. “Dude! Clothes!”

The shifters growled, but I snapped my fingers and motioned them to stand down.

“They’re the good guys, fellas!” I said to my weirdly faithful companions.

“You must be Jovi,” the one I identified as Thadeus remarked dryly.

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing myself not to look at them. Nudity has this funny effect on people, I realized then. You really don’t want to look, and yet you can’t seem to look away. The paradox can be embarrassing, to say the least. “Seriously, though, where are your clothes? How are you so cool with roaming around a castle butt naked?!”

“I’ve already explained this to your sister,” Patrik groaned, and I could sense the exasperation in his voice. “Just put yourself in my shoes, and you’ll figure it out by yourself!”

A second passed as the notion sank in. He made a fair point, as uncomfortable as it was. I gathered the strength to look them both in the eyes, and pursed my lips.

“You’re barefoot.” I couldn’t help myself, trying to keep a straight face. He sighed with frustration, letting me know that it was time to get serious. “That makes sense, though. I get it. So, my sister saw you naked, then?”

I stifled a grin as the shifters rolled their black eyes at me. They were just as naked, and I’d never had a problem with that. I walked toward them, giving each a smirk.

“In your mindless wisdom, you two are actually right,” I told the shifters, confirming what I’d just been thinking. The understanding look they gave me in return once again reminded me that they really were no longer the asinine predators I’d once thought them to be. I shifted my focus back to the Druids. “How do we get to Nova?”

“Follow me,” Patrik said, and rushed down another corridor. I went after him with Thadeus and the shifters. We climbed up some dark service stairs to the seventh floor, then made a few turns, and I noticed the torches had already been put out on this side of the castle.

“You’ve already been to this part of the castle?” I asked, just to double check.

“We knew where you’d land, so we cleared the entire route of Azazel’s green flames for a smooth extraction,” Patrik replied.

They’d prepped the terrain prior to my arrival—proof of what good coordination could accomplish.

I watched as the Druids quickly shifted back into snakes, and my shifters followed suit, leaving me as the only two-legged creature around.

“Not fair,” I scoffed, keeping up with their quick, slithering movements.

I frequently glanced over my shoulder, just to make sure we weren’t spotted or followed by any real Destroyers, but it seemed quiet. I had a feeling Azazel was focusing his troops outside the castle, trusting that the inside would be clear and no one would be daring or stupid enough to try something.

Little did the self-proclaimed dictator of the Eritopian galaxy know that he was dealing with a master of bold recklessness like Jovi Blackhall. I wasn’t stupid, obviously, but I had enough daring in me to avenge my entire family for all the grief he’d caused us.