Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)(35)

So she’d turned around.

Watching the annoyingly beautiful man tie his shoes and collect his gun and dagger, Harley ignored the treacherous leap of her heart.

She was here to find her sisters.

That was the reason she’d returned.

The only reason.

It had absolutely, positively nothing to do with Salvatore Giuliani, King of Weres.

Busy reminding herself of that very pertinent fact, Harley was caught off guard when Salvatore whirled toward the trees behind him.

“Curs,” he hissed.

Belatedly catching the unmistakable smell, Harley tightened her grip on the gun. Dammit. The pack was already circling them.

They’d been so occupied with the near-death fight with the zombie Were that they hadn’t even noticed the approaching trouble.

“Just frigging perfect,” she muttered.

Salvatore cupped her chin in his hand, his expression fierce.

“Run.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He growled in frustration. “Very soon we’re going to have a long conversation about the proper way of following orders.”

“Any conversation about following orders is going to be very short and will probably involve bloodshed.”

The golden light of his eyes flared, but before he could argue, two curs crashed into the clearing. Turning, Salvatore moved to stand directly before them, arrogantly confident despite the fact the two had already shifted into werewolves that were as large as ponies, and powerful enough to fill the air with a prickling heat.

Sensing another cur approaching behind them, Harley silently slid behind a tree, her gaze still trained on Salvatore as he held out a hand toward the curs. Even from a distance she could feel a painful pressure filling the clearing.

She didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but she suspected the curs weren’t going to be happy.

She was right.

With agonized whines the animals fell to the ground, their fur-covered bodies writhing. Still Salvatore continued to hold out his hand, his powerful compulsion hammering into the hapless curs.

Harley winced at the sound of bones popping. Somehow Salvatore was forcing the curs back to human form.

A painful process, if their howls were anything to go by.

Fascinated by the macabre spectacle, Harley nearly missed when the cur behind her began to move forward. Pressing herself to the tree, she shook her head in disgust as she recognized the man who was trying to sneak up behind Salvatore.

A red-headed, fiery-tempered cur, Frankie always had more brawn than brain.

And thankfully, that included ramming headlong into a battle without making sure he wasn’t about to be out-flanked.

Following silently in his wake, Harley pressed her gun to the back of his head.

“Hello, Frankie,” she murmured. “Miss me?”

With a foul curse, Frankie whirled around, murder in his eyes. “Bitch.”

Before he could guess her intent, Harley hit the idiot on his hard head with the butt of her gun, the force sending him sprawling onto the ground, knocked out cold.

“You have no idea.”

“Done playing?” Salvatore asked, a faint smile curving his lips.

Harley shrugged. “What now?”

“Now we leave.”

She waved her gun toward the unconscious curs. “What about the Three Stooges?”

“I don’t think they’ll be in the mood to follow us. At least not for a few hours.” He moved to grab her hand, tugging her through the trees.

“What did you do to them?”

“Just a little reminder that I’m their king.”

“Little?”

“They’re still alive, aren’t they?”

Harley grimaced. “I thought you didn’t have a God complex?”

He chuckled, lifting her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles.

“I don’t like to lose.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She pulled her hand from his grip, unable to concentrate when he was touching her. Or at least, she couldn’t concentrate on what she needed to concentrate on. Ripping off Salvatore’s clothes and taking the gorgeous Were in the bushes wasn’t going to help them escape. “So I assume that was the infamous Briggs?”

Salvatore’s smile widened, as if he could read her mind.

Jackass.

“A projection of him.”

Harley had heard of the trick, but she’d never encountered anyone with the magical power to perform it.

“He wasn’t really there?”

Salvatore knocked aside a dead tree leaning across the path, leading her down a steep hill covered with leaves and loose stones. Absolutely perfect for sliding down and breaking her fool neck.

“A portion of his essence was bound in the spell, but his physical form wasn’t present.”

“He felt solid enough.”

“Si. It’s the risky part of such a spell. Although he’s far away, he can allow his spirit to become a solid force. It gives him the ability to travel at will, but it also makes him vulnerable to attack.”

“Then he was injured?”

“His physical body carries the wounds he suffered in spirit form.”

Satisfaction flared through her heart. She hated to waste a perfectly good bullet.