Page 53 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

Cyran turned as Zel’s sword became two identical weapons. With crossed arms, he brought the blades together in a loud clang, their sharpened edges slicing off Cyran’s opponent’s head in one fluid motion.

As the body fell, Zel leaned forward, and Cyran realized he wasn’t as slender as he had first thought, his black pants accentuating his muscled legs. “That’s for touchingherand biting me, you bastard. I hope you rot in hell for your choices.”

Cyran raised one brow. “Well, that was an impressive ending. I’m positive he won’t enjoy his afterlife, no matter which underworld he ends up in. I know a few kings and one queen hunting for blood because of what’s happening to their worlds.”

Zel’s blades shimmered with a blue fire, cleansing away the gore before the swords disappeared. He turned to face Cyran, his expression angry. He had tanned skin, and his dark eyes looked black in the dim light as he shoved his hand through his short, wavy black hair.

“They have every right to be,” the newcomer said. “What Haman and the Fae are doing will not only disrupt the Nine Worlds but could very well end the Megaverse if they are not stopped. There is a reason the Celtic Courts are separate. The Seelie Queen and Unseelie King share a love like no other, but she is of the light, and he is wholly dark—evil dark. They will never be able to meet in the middle.”

Cyran frowned. “You seem to understand a lot about what’s going on. Care to fill me in?”

“Because he’s been in the thick of things since the beginning.” Loki pulled Shalendra into the room and slammed the door shut behind them. “There were a few too many soldiers with nasty magic-coated bullets flying everywhere out there. I thought it would be safer in here.”

Zel turned his glare on the god, crossing his arms over his chest, unmindful of the blood still dripping from his shredded arm. “It’s about time you returned. Where have you been?”

“Trapped on Jötunheimr, if you must know. Thanks to these two, the king set me free so I could come back and help you. How are Olivier and Jessica?”

“I’m here, so what does that tell you? Jessica is fading fast, and Olivier is not doing well either. I searched Svartálfheimr for the stone you told me about, but it wasn’t there. I returned here to find Fer-Diorich gone and Hamas on a killing rampage as his experiments increase.”

Cyran noticed Shalendra’s hands twisting together as she stared at Zel’s arm. She glanced up at him and then, in one step, moved in front of Zel and placed her hands over his injured arm.

“I’m sorry, but I have to heal you.” She closed her eyes, ignoring the way Zel tried to pull away. A white light appeared, surrounding her hands and bathing the horrendous wound. The light turned blue and then faded.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Zel snarled, grabbing her hands. Turning them so her palms faced up, his thumbs slid over the pristine skin. He frowned, his dark eyes popping up to hers. “How are you not injured? Your skin should be burned.”

Shalendra smiled. “It is my gift to heal. While your blood is acidic, it recognized my intent was only to give you aid and will not harm me.”

Cyran’s gaze narrowed on Zel’s face. “Why would your blood burn her? Who are you?”

Zel smiled. “Maybe you should askwhatI am, Elf Lord. I am the demon Azazel.”

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Cyran crossed his arms and gave the demon a droll glare. “I guessed as much. You look nothing like Shalendra’s uncle, so you were the obvious other choice. We were brought here for Olivier and Jessica…with a side trip to stop Haman, so if you thought to scare us with theatrics, it won’t work.”

Zel’s brow rose and smirked at Shalendra. “Is he always this accommodating and friendly?”

She chuckled. “No. You caught him on a good day. Regarding your previous question as to why your blood didn’t burn me, I am the daughter of Émilien and Hel Elasalor, the sister to Fenrir, and the goddaughter to both Freyja and Idunn, not to mention Loki’s granddaughter. Heimdall is also particular about what happens to me.”

The demon's genuine smile lightened his black eyes to a smoky gray. “I would say you have a very protective family, then. You are lucky to have them.”

“It is most definitely the other way around. I would never do anything to hurt them, and that includes my aunt and uncle. I was given the quest to find them and bring them home. My father has searched for his brother since Olivier disappeared.”

“It won’t be easy. Haman has the doorway guarded by the few werewolves he and the Dark Fae have managed to keep alive. It's also magically warded. While I may be a demon, my current situation with Olivier as my host leaves me limited in what I can and can’t do. As long as Jessica is alive and well, we are stable together, but I am not a mage, so I cannot counter his warding spell.”

Cyran frowned. “What happens when Jessica isn’t well?”

Zel met his gaze. “I can separate from Olivier. Unfortunately, when this happens, Haman can also control me as he did during the war on Midgard when Olivier and Jessica were captured, as well as my recent haunting in Svartálfheimr. I’m unsure as to why he isn’t controlling me now. It’s…unusual.”

“You impersonated the dwarf king,” Shalendra added.

Zel’s gaze snapped to hers. “You were there—as a prisoner.” She nodded. “I thought I recognized you, but when I see someone through another’s eyes, most times, they are distorted and unfamiliar. Possessing someone is one of my least favorite things to do.”

“There are more?” Cyran asked. “Surprising, for a demon.”

“Don’t ask what you don’t want to hear,” Zel said. “Besides, how many demons have you known during your life? I lived with them and can say I know only a few. They run and live in small bands—no more than ten-to-one groupings. Demons aren’t known for their camaraderie or getting along with others.”

“That’s so sad.” Shalendra placed her hand on his arm.

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