forcing the warrior to leap backward. He sidestepped to keep the Sidhe between himself and the other four. His father had taught him how to fight multiple opponents when he was a kid, and he’d used those techniques to kill his first assassin when he was fourteen.
Spotting a familiar sigil on the man’s chest plate, he snarled. “Konir. Still doing Siobhan’s dirty work?”
“I demand a sacrifice,” Liam roared, his voice booming over the alley, amplified by his power as Essus winged overhead. “Feed them to me, Conal Donovan!”
For a heartbeat, Konir’s eyes widened in horror through the narrow visor of his helm. Conal bared his teeth. “Yeah, that is Maeve’s pet death god, Konir. Are you sure Siobhan’s favor is worth becoming a meal for him?”
“Whore!” The Sidhe lunged, bringing his sword down in a furious diagonal hack, but the distraction threw off his rhythm. Conal blocked and rammed Darkbane into the Sidhe’s chest.
Over Konir’s strangled death scream, Liam boomed, “Delicious! Feed me another, boy! Sweet, sweeeet death!” He was definitely chewing the scenery now, trying to freak out the Sidhe who knew his reputation.
It’s not doing a lot for me either, Essus muttered in their link.
I don’t care what he eats as long as he helps me get Helena back. Conal swept a calculating glance over the Sidhe, desperate to take these bastards out so he could rescue her.
One of the warriors turned his head toward the blazing comet that was Essus. The light of his shield dimmed a fraction. If you weren’t used to dragging magic from the Mageverse, it was easy to forget to keep a barrier reinforced. Conal snaked forward and punched Darkbane through the courtier’s shield with his full strength, aiming the blade through the slit of his visor and into his right eye.
Blood spilled between the Sidhe’s lips as Conal jerked the blade free, letting him fall.
The closest of the remaining Sidhe dove at what he obviously thought was an opening -- and plunged right into a plume of phoenix flame from Essus. Conal had to leap back as he caught fire, screaming. A heartbeat later he was glowing smoke on the breeze. Conal gave the remaining Sidhe a snarl. “Looks like you’re the last,” he growled, angling Darkbane for an attack.
The man immediately threw up his visor, revealing Birk Bhaltair’s smirk. “I wouldn’t, unless you want your werewolf to end up a fur coat.” His grin widened. “Surprise.”
Conal raised a brow. “I’ve known you were a traitorous shit since you sent me to Siobhan.”
Birk’s eyes narrowed as if offended Conal wasn’t properly shocked at his betrayal. “I did what I had to do. You have no idea what it’s like living cut off from the bulk of your power.”
Conal lifted Darkbane and took a step forward, trailing violet light. “Let’s find out how you’ll like being separated from your head.”
“Don’t be so hasty,” Birk said, taking a quick pace back. “I bring a message from Siobhan I think you’ll want to hear.”
“I seriously doubt it,” spat Essus, still flaming, as he circled just over their heads.
“I say we cook him and be done with it,” Liam suggested. “I could use another sacrifice.”
“I’ll bet he’d go up like a torch.”
Birk swallowed and cast an uneasy look skyward at the circling phoenix eagle. “Then you won’t be able to rescue Helena. You know you’ll never get through Siobhan’s shields, even with the death god’s magic.”
Conal had participated in a lot of negotiations over the past century, some of them at sword point. But he also knew the way Siobhan thought. “Let me guess,” he growled, his sword blazing with his fury. “If I turn myself in, she’ll free Helena.”
The traitor gave him a smug smile despite the fear in his eyes. “Exactly.”
“Or,” Conal drawled, “I could go get Arthur and the Magekind and burn Siobhan’s palace to the ground.”
Birk blinked, and unease flashed across his face. “Arthur has no reason to interfere in this.”
Conal gave the fucker his best shark smile. “Arthur owes Maeve favors.”
“And what will happen to your pretty werewolf in the meantime? Maybe you should take a look.” He flicked a finger, and the spark of a gate appeared and swelled open.
Staring through it, Conal felt his heart clench. Helena sat in Bloody Olwydd’s lap, the troll’s huge hand wrapped around her entire head. She was back in human form, dressed in her pretty red party dress. One eye was swollen shut, an injury she must have received since shifting, or it