Donnchadh - Lynn Hagen Page 0,29

the hellhounds bore down on them.

Donny clashed with one of them, shoving one of his blades into the hellhound’s mouth to stop it from biting. He rolled with the large Rottweiler and hit the wall, swinging an arm around its neck.

“This is for the son of a bitch who bit me.” Donny drove the blade into its skull, just behind its ear, and dropped when the hellhound burst into dust.

He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face, sucking in some of that dust. Fuck. He’d just inhaled bits of a hellhound. Now he felt dirty on the inside.

He was shoved forward when another hound leapt onto his back. Donny swung around, propelling himself into the wall, slamming the hellhound into it.

When he pulled away, one of the hound’s claws was stuck in his hair.

“You did not just touch the dreads,” Donny snarled, shoving his blade backward, embedding it in the dog’s gut. “Nobody touches the hair except my shorty.”

He dislodged the claw and tried to stab the hound in its head, but it dodged away, slid on the floor, and spun to bare its teeth at Donny.

Those teeth.

Memories of that night tried to take hold, tried to render him powerless with fear, but Donny shook it off and let his rage take over, let it consume him.

Hondo joined him. Fireballs bounced in the palms of his hands. Donny noticed blood on Hondo’s upper arm. “You good?”

“Baby scratch,” Hondo said. “Caught my arm on a locker.” He nodded toward the hellhound. “Let’s Wonder Twin him back to fucking Hell.”

Donny ducked when a hellhound went sailing over his head. Deandre must’ve used his telekinesis to do that.

Ten Takeo swooped through the corridor, landing punches on any hellhound in his way.

“Why can’t I freeze time?” he heard Kane shouting.

“Let’s do this,” Donny said before rushing forward. He jerked sideways when flames shot past him and set the hellhound on fire.

“We really need to work on our coordination,” he said to Hondo. “You saw me running first.”

Donny watched as the hellhound dropped and rolled. With the floors being so wet, the fire went out. Donny didn’t wait for the Rottweiler to regroup. He struck, shoving the blade deep into its head.

This time Donny jumped back before the dust could infiltrate his lungs. He wasn’t swallowing a hellhound for a second time. He still had the bitter taste from the first one lingering in his mouth.

And fuck, that sounded so damn dirty.

Donny spun and saw Phoenyx trying to fight off a hellhound while still keeping hold of Cadeym.

He ran toward the redhead, blade in the air, but he was knocked sideways. Donny slid down the wet hallway, slamming into a set of lockers.

Shoving his boots into the steel, he leapt to his feet just as the hellhound clamped its jaws down. Donny cracked his neck from side to side, held his blades beside him, hilt first, and narrowed his eyes.

“You fuckers just don’t know when to quit.”

The hellhound transformed into a human. The bastard smirked at Donny. “You don’t remember me, do you? It’s a shame you survived my bite. I guess this time I’ll have to make sure I finish the job.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Deandre said from behind the hellhound. “This time I won’t fail him.”

Donny wanted to argue that Deandre hadn’t failed him the first time, that it had been Donny’s arrogance that had gotten him bitten. But knowing this asshat had been the one to nearly take Donny’s life infuriated him.

Instead of letting Deandre defend him, Donny tackled the bastard and took him down. He wasn’t in his hound form, so Donny didn’t fear his bite.

But the bastard needed to fear Donny’s.

They were back on their feet, and Donny threw gut punches and uppercuts, working the guy’s body like a punching bag. He took all his rage out on him, the stark fear that he would die when he was fighting for his life, and for trapping them in the fucking building, taking Donny away from his mate.

He pulverized the hound, slamming his fist into the guy’s face repeatedly.

“He’s out cold.” Deandre pulled Donny back, but Donny fought to keep using the bastard as a relief to his aggression. “We need to figure out how to get out of here. He’s unconscious, Donnchadh.”

Donny walked over and grabbed his knives from the floor, returned to the hound, who looked a bloody mess, and drove the blades into his skull. “That’s for Cadeym, you sick,