Alpha Warriors of The Cause - Tamara Rose Blodgett Page 0,59

delight.

Merrick's gold brows drop low. “Fuck off, Bloodling.”

Slade's expression sobers, but the remnants of a smile hover over his lips. “We apply that to our exposed skin, and the nightloper will interpret your stench as a common animal.”

Jeb's jaw works back and forth. “Fantastic.” His nose scrunches at the foul odor.

“And you?”

“I don't have a scent. My vampire lineage cancels out odor.”

“Hmm.” More than a hint of admiration rides the fine line of envy in Jeb’s tone.

Slade ruthlessly shoves aside another pang of regret. He cannot be weak.

Merrick for Beth—it is the only solution.

Jeb reluctantly smears the foul rub onto his cheekbones and tops of his hands.

If Slade's fortunate, Merrick will take the fall, Dimitri will die, and nothing will stand in the way of his mating of Beth.

*

Merrick

The males go wide, Jeb several meters opposite Slade as they edge toward the front of Dimitri's fortress. Slade makes a high-pitched noise that mimics a bird call, and Jeb returns it.

The nightlopers snuffle, shaking their tawny manes and straightening from their semi-slouched positions.

The lead nightloper plucks the flail from its tether and moves silently toward a creature presumably as large as he.

Jeb jogs lightly toward the corner of the building, where he presses the side of his face against the cool stone.

The nightlopers raise their noses to the sky, nostrils flaring and sniffing the night air.

Jeb can barely tolerate the waxy substance smeared over his face and hands. He smells like spoiling refuse.

Suddenly, the leader's face whips in Jeb's direction. Jeb catches sight of Slade sprinting behind the three lions while Jeb's horrible smell serves as a distraction.

Slade's dark eyes flash at Jeb, and the second the leader is two meters away, Jeb hears a growl that tells him the nightloper has located him. He steps out, revealing himself.

The nightloper seems surprised his prey is humanoid, but the lion is cunning, nevertheless. He swings his flail in a practiced arc meant to lobe Jeb's head off.

Not today.

Jeb ducks, swinging out his arm, and grips the handle of the flail. He jerks it backward, and the sudden backswing of the spiked weapon crushes the nightloper between the eyes.

He begins to topple, and Merrick pitches forward to catch the flail as the end of another takes a chunk out of his hide. Jeb bites back a howl and spins the borrowed flail with grace, despite the pain. His strike lands between the legs of one of the others.

He howls, grabbing his ruined crotch, and Jeb strikes the second lion in the throat with the knuckles of his free hand, silencing the beast before he can rouse the entire compound.

Slade stands, blood dripping from his parted lips. He issues a primal hiss, and Jeb fights backing away, but is paradoxically fascinated by the fangs. They look as though they could belong to a small saber-toothed tiger.

“That was simple,” Slade says.

“No. You used me as bait,” Jeb says with clear reproach, his ass in agony.

“And if I mentioned you carried the scent of the primary predator of the nightloper?”

“I would have told you to go to hades.”

Slade grins, cocking an inky eyebrow. “Ah, but look how well it worked.”

Jeb wonders on that. “Let's get to Rachett.”

“You go first.” Slade sweeps his palm at the entrance doors a few meters away.

Jeb turns to study the huge double doors, arched at the top, anchored with hand-forged fasteners. The construction is similar to many doors on Papilio.

That is where the similarities between the two worlds end, Jeb is sure. He marches toward the entrance.

He can't wait until he is through this and back with Beth. Rachett will be reinstated, and Beth will be safe—or as safe as he can make her.

At the door, Jeb slides his fingers through the cold metal loop serving as a door knob and slowly swings open the heavy door.

The inside of the structure is how he remembers it. Yet, it is quiet like the tomb.

Too quiet.

He steps inside, feeling Slade's presence at his back. Jeb moves to ask Slade about the oddity of the building's stillness—then Reflective Ryan steps from the shadows.

Jeb’s every instinct comes alive. His stomach drops as adrenaline floods him.

“Well, hello, Jeb.”

Ryan's eyes flick to Slade. “I don't know how you managed it, my Bloodling friend, but I'm beyond happy.”

Jeb's stomach flips in a hot roil. However, he allows nothing to bleed onto his countenance. No hopelessness. No fear.

I am Reflective.

Jeb's eyes narrow as he steps sideways to keep both Slade and Ryan within sight.

“I am not your friend, hopper.”

Ryan