Page 21 of Savage Claim

“You proved it to the whole damn bar.” His lips ran across my temple as he breathed me in. “Can’t say it’s not a turn-on to have someone release that kind of power just to lay claim on me.”

Talons sprouted from my fingertips, and my teeth sharpened, the desire to shred Greta to pieces suffocating me. I wanted to taste the metallic tang of her blood in my mouth as I ripped her throat out.

The door burst open, and a coyote shifter stumbled in, his jeans and sweatshirt torn and blood scenting the air. Everyone forgot about us, and music from the jukebox sheared off.

“There’s a bunch of monsters out there.” The guy jerked his thumb toward the door, and a few patrons rushed to help him into a booth along the wall. “They’re attacking people. Humans.”

My heart leaped into my throat, and I reached for the transformative hilt I used to carry with me. Instead, I found nothing but claws still protruding from my fingers.

Fane’s mismatched gaze settled on me, darkening. “I don’t suppose you’d stay out of this.”

“What do you think, Maverick? I can’t stand by while sub-demons attack humans.” I tore out of his hold—or he let me—and sprinted for the door, the demon shifter close on my heels. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather me rip Underworld trash to pieces than that female shifter vying for a spot as your side chick?”

Fane grumbled behind me. “I don’t need a side chick when you monopolize all my attention.”

I couldn’t decide if that was an insult or not.

We bolted onto the street as chaos unfolded. Sub-demons about the size of large dogs with green scales, sharp teeth, and onyx sickle claws chased humans and battled nightworlders. A single horn rose out of the center of their forehead like a miniunicorn from hell.

“Maltera demons,” Fane muttered. “Those bastards are stupid, but they can bite, and their horn is poisonous. We’d survive a hit but not the humans.”

I cracked my neck and drew on my supernatural senses. “Avoid the horns and teeth. Got it.”

Before I could dash off, Fane gripped my arm. “Be careful.”

My mouth parted as a burst of concern flooded the bond before he could hide it. His lips thinned when he realized he let his real emotions slip.

“You too,” I said and then sprinted toward a maltera demon attacking a group of humans. Someone would need to compel them to forget all this—any that survived. My heart clenched at the two dead humans sprawled on the sidewalk.

I slammed my talons into the sub-demon’s back, crushing his spine, and then I ripped his head off. The humans screamed and scuttled back on their hands and knees.

I pointed to the door of Lunar Souls. “Get inside!” They’d be safer if they simply ran away, but they couldn’t leave without getting their memories wiped. It was for their own good. I knew what kind of trauma something like this caused.

The man and woman scrambled up and sprinted for the bar, a female shifter waving them in.

It only took minutes for the nightworlders to contain the situation once Fane and I joined the fray. A few demons still scampered around when a pair of eyes drilled into me, glaring from the shadows between two buildings across the street.

A broad form peeled away from the wall, and glowing yellow irises burned like two sinister suns. Ice flowed through my veins instead of blood as those wide shoulders materialized, and then the beginning outline of small horns protruded from his forehead.

Son of a bitch. Had Venna finally ordered her henchman Mykel to attack me?

Chapter

Eight

My hands curled into fists as rage blasted through the ice. Images of Mykel’s harpoon dragging Fane across the bridge in the Underworld infiltrated my mind, and the urge to tear the dux demon to pieces overwhelmed me.

I stepped forward, bloodlust and violence warping my thoughts.

A savage pain erupted in my thigh, and I screamed as a maltera dug his horn into my leg, searing poison leaking into my system.

“Tate!” Fane’s fierce snarl pierced the night and even gave the maltera pause. While the critter was distracted, I reached down and ripped my talons through his neck, severing his head.

I stumbled back, unable to hold myself up on my injured leg, and slammed into a hard chest, familiar arms enveloping me.

“What the fuck?” Fane sucked air sharply. “How bad is it?”

He already knew the answer. He could feel the agony wrapping my muscles.

---