“If you kill her, we won’t be disguised anymore. We need these faces if we want to have any chance at getting Morax,” she quickly tells me as I pull my weapon back and ready it for another strike.
Understanding dawns in my eyes, followed closely by frustration, and I growl, my hands gripping my scythe and lowering it in my hands. Medley nods, understanding exactly where I’m coming from.
“That’s right. You need me,” Shateel proclaims arrogantly, but the wobble of fear in her tone gives her away.
“What are we supposed to do with her then?” I ask, my scythe practically vibrating in my palm with the need to mete out the call for retribution flowing in my veins.
Medley hands me her scythe, and I hold it for her as I watch her curiously. She turns to Shateel whose smirk slightly wavers, and then in a blink, Medley cocks her arm back and slugs the snake-haired demon right in the face.
Shateel’s head whips around so fast that I hear a cracking sound, and I don’t know if it was her jaw or her neck. “Whoopsie daisy, I can hit harder than I thought,” Medley says sweetly as we watch Shateel slump to the ground.
“She’s still breathing,” Delta says with a shrug. “That’s more than she deserves.”
Medley nods with her job well done, shaking out her fist slightly before I hand her scythe back. The guards with Shateel seem to snap out of their stupor at seeing their unresponsive leader on the ground, but Medley and I dust them before they can manage a step in our direction.
The room is now eerily quiet as the cloudy remains of the demons we just reset settle around us. I take a fraction of a second to feel a sliver of relief, and then panic floods me at the sound of a pained groan.
My mates.
25
Chests heaving, I search for them amongst the destruction. We’re surrounded by multiple piles of ash that used to be demons, broken wine bottles, an upended shelf with crates spilled all over, and Shateel’s body sprawled out, totally unconscious. It’s a complete disaster down here.
The hissing sound of pained breaths reaches out to me like a lure, and I track the noise, frantically searching for the source. My heart wrenches when I find Toreon. He’s on his knees and clutching his chest, teeth gritted and face way paler than it should be.
No.
My first instinct is to run to him, to check him over, but I can see he has no physical wounds. The protector bond is doing this to him, which means I need to help Vudu in order to help Toreon.
Whirling on my feet, I spot Vudu by the knocked over shelf, and I tighten the hold on my skirt again before I sprint over to him, letting my scythe disappear right as I skid to a stop next to the huge armor plated demon.
He’s sitting slumped against the broken wood of the shelf, a wine bottle broken beneath him and seeping into his pants. I hurry to kneel down in front of him. The hem of my dress and my palms sink into the liquid, and shock slams through me when the liquid is warm instead of the cold it should be from being stored in this room. Horror fills my chest, and I immediately realize my mistake. This isn’t wine.
A sharp pain pierces my chest when I realize that the puddle Vudu is sitting in is his own blood. “Oh, Vudu…” I say, my throat closing as I get choked up. He’s in bad shape. Really, really bad.
I can’t lose them.
I shove that thought away and focus. “Will my blood help you too?” I ask, blinking fast so that no tears fall from the pool that’s welling in my eyes. I need to be strong right now. For him and Toreon both. I need to figure out how to fix this.
Vudu slumps a little bit more, but I quickly reach up and grab his face, cradling both of his cheeks in my palms. “Stay with me, big guy,” I tell him, and he forces his eyes to stay open for me.
“Toreon!” I call. “How does the bond work? Should I give you blood or give it directly to him?” I ask frantically.
There’s a pause until Toreon grits out one word. “Him.”
“Alright, you’re up then, Hulk. Stay awake with me,” I encourage as I drop my hands and inch closer to him.