Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)(98)

Predictably, the four curs were chained to the walls with silver shackles, the stench of burning flesh enough to turn her stomach, but it was the sight of their ragged appearance and the wretched defeat etched on their filthy faces that made her heart twist in fury toward Briggs.

They had quite literally been broken by the evil Were.

Damn the bastard.

She hoped Salvatore ripped out the pureblood’s heart, chopped it into pieces, and fed it to the rats. Then raised him from the dead and did it all over again.

Her grim mood didn’t improve once she had the curs released and was leading them through the tangle of trees in a straight path back to the church.

She’d expected to have a brawl on her hands when she told the curs that they were leaving without Salvatore. Actually, she expected a mutiny, even after telling them that their king had ordered them to go with her.

It was disturbing to have them follow behind her with mute obedience, their heads hanging and their spirit lost.

Once in the empty church, she’d settled them on a rickety pew, her heart twisting as they huddled together, needing the physical contact to ease their fear. A part of her felt a befuddled need to do something to comfort them. She was supposed to be their queen, after all. It seemed like it should be her duty.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a clue what to do.

She didn’t think a pat on the head and a “there, there” was going to help.

Another part of her, however, was consumed with her relentless awareness of Salvatore.

Since their mating, the sense of him always hummed through her. More like a background noise than an intrusion. Now she found herself restlessly pacing the empty vestibule, the feel of Salvatore so acute it was almost painful.

Unwittingly rubbing the spot just over her heart, Harley walked to stare out a broken stained glass window. Something was wrong.

And it terrified her.

Turning back, she caught sight of the large bald-headed cur regarding her with a melancholy expression.

With a lift of her hand, she gestured for him to join her. “Hess.”

Despite his bulky muscles, the cur moved with a fluid grace as he crossed to kneel at her feet, his head bowed.

“Your Majesty.”

Harley reached out and hastily urged him back to his feet, disturbed by the cur’s groveling. Respect was all fine and dandy, but she was never going to get used to very large predators bowing and scraping.

“Please don’t do that,” she muttered. “My name is Harley.”

He grudgingly nodded his head, not pleased by her refusal to follow tradition. A cur of the old school, obviously.

Bleck.

“If that is your wish.”

She frowned at the sight of violent bruises and raw burns that marred his bare chest.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing that won’t heal.”

His dull, lifeless tone warned Harley that the worst of his wounds weren’t physical.

He needed Salvatore.

Hell, they all needed Salvatore. Herself included.

“Tell me what happened,” she demanded. “How did Briggs get you to the shed?”

“I was leading the others from the caves as you commanded when Briggs found us.”

“Predictable. He has a talent for always being at the wrong place.”

“He…” Hess licked his lips, his expression haunted. “He said he needed to make sure Salvatore would follow him.”

Well, at least now she knew why the curs had been left in the shed. They had been expendable once Salvatore arrived.

“You were bait.”

“Yes.” His glance briefly shifted to the other curs still huddled together on the pew. “We couldn’t fight him. He gets in our brain and makes us do things.”

She reached out to touch him, surprised to discover she could sense the mass of anger and confusion that tormented the cur.

“No one blames you, Hess,” she said softly. “There was nothing you could do.”

“I blame me,” he growled, his hands clenching. “I have failed my master over and over. I’m not worthy to be his servant.”

Harley frowned, her sympathy being replaced with frustration. Okay, Hess and the other curs had been through hell. She got it. But right now Salvatore needed them to be strong.

And that’s what they were going to be.

Without giving herself time to think, she reached up and slapped the cur with enough force to snap back his head.

“Stop that.”

Hess growled deep in his throat, the dull shame in his eyes being replaced by a spark of anger.

Thank God.

“It’s the truth.”

“Whether it’s the truth or not, Salvatore needs his warriors, not a bunch of self-pitying whiners,” she snapped.

He flinched at her brutal accusation, a meaty hand lifting to rub over his bald head.

“You said Salvatore had ordered us to leave.”

“He did.”

“Then obviously he understands that we are useless.”

“He’s concerned about Briggs taking control of you.”

“Because we were weak.”

“For God’s sake. That’s enough.” She stepped until they were a mere inch apart. The cur might be twice her height and three times her weight, but she was a pureblood and her strength would always be superior. “Salvatore needs us.”