Page 163 of Born of Blood and Ash

“He actually thanked me before he hit me,” Attes said. “Or was it between the first and second punch?”

“It was between them,” Ash said.

I shook my head. “I do not understand either of you.”

“We understand each other,” Attesinterjected.

I supposed that was all that mattered.

I started to turn back to Ash when a shiver of uneasecoursed through me, each hair on my body standing on end. Instinct kickedin—the kind that had nothing to do with the vadentiaand everything to do with the primitive part of my consciousness that sensed…

That death was in the air.

My eyes flew to Ash’s.

He stilled, eather flaringbrightly in his silver eyes as he picked up on my emotions.

Nektas rose, his chin lifting ashe inhaled deeply.

Eather flooded my veins as I spun, scanning the thick,sweeping pines crowding the foothills of the snowcapped mountains. My heartbegan to pound.

“If you’re feeling something, I’m not,” Attessaid as I walked forward.

“Neither am I,” Nektas said. “ButI do smell something.”

Attes’s booted feet hitting thestone as he walked echoed across the veranda as I eyed the dark shadows betweenthe tightly packed trees.

I squinted, straining to see as far as I could into the vastforest. There was something about the darker splotches farther back. Theydidn’t seem right. They were too thick and suddenly seemed closer. The barkingfrom Essaly—in the opposite direction of theforest—picked up in a nervous, almost frantic chorus.

“What do you smell?” Ash asked.

I stopped at the edge of the veranda. What I saw weren’tshadows. They were solid and prowled between the trees. I tensed as I suddenlysaw a pair of amber orbs reflecting back at me. Dozens of them. But theyweren’t orbs.

They were eyes.

“I smell wet dog,” Nektas answeredas the luminous, predatory glow blinked out of existence.

“Son of a bitch,” Attes growled asbranches low to the ground rattled.

The barking ceased.

My lips parted as a…dog trotted out from the forest, its furshining a deep reddish brown in the sunlight—if dogs could grow to be a sizesomewhere between a kiyou wolf and a dakkai, that was. And if they looked like they had beenbred with a barrat.

The creature was ugly, and not in ait’s-so-cute-it’s-ugly kind of way. Fur rose in spikes all along its back—notbecause it was matted into that form but because it just naturally grew thatway—or so it appeared. There was no fur on the pointy, twitching ears or onmost of its tail, except for a frizzy ball at the end. And its face? Well, thatwas where the barrat part came in. It had the face ofan overgrown rodent, whiskers and all.

“Kynakos,” Imurmured, eyes widening. “Dogs of War.”

The creature started prowling toward us, sniffing the air.

Attes was suddenly standingbetween us and the creature. “Stasi dato,”he ordered.

The dog’s upper lip curled as it growled, baring teeth thatwould make a dakkai nervous.

Ash was beside me at once. “I don’t think it’s standingdown.”

“Stasi dato nori,” Attes shouted.

The creature’s yellow eyes flickered over Attes to where Ash and I stood. Its powerful muscles rolledalong its sides and back a heartbeat before it leapt into the sky. I jerkedforward.

---