Page 77 of Bad Demon

I lifted my foot, about to kick in the front door, desperate to get to Fern, but Jagger grabbed my shoulder, shoving me back. I jerked from his hold, and the alpha’s second closed in.

“We go in there hot, she could get hurt. You need to get those new fucking emotions under control and play this smart.”

He was right, of course, but, fuck, it was hard. The rage felt like a wildfire rushing through me, burning off the hard exterior and exposing all of those new and confusing emotions.

Lothar grabbed the door handle, and his biceps jerked, the veins in his forearm popping. “Warded, but it’s weak.” He gritted his teeth and twisted the door handle, shattering the lock.

I pushed forward, and every muscle in my body jerked, spasming, as I breached the ward and rushed through. Lothar was right; it was weak, but for anyone else, this would be impenetrable. Whoever this witch was had not been keeping up their wards regularly. Or maybe they were just that fucking arrogant that they thought no one would find them.

The main entrance was dark, but I could see a few flickering lights ahead. Tilting back my head, I breathed deep, and my nerve endings, my blood, fucking lit up like I’d been struck by lightning. Whatever had been blocking her wasn’t working here because it didn’t need to.

“She’s here. I can smell her blood.”

Beside me, Lothar bared his teeth, the rage rolling off him, almost as volatile as mine.

“We need to assess the situation before we kill—you hear me?” Jagger said. “Whatever this place is, something is not fucking right. The darkness here is thick, fucking heavy.”

I grunted, but if Fern was hurt, I was going to kill anything that moved, consequences be damned. I rushed ahead, Lothar and Jag keeping pace, letting me follow Fern’s scent, letting it guide me to her. I didn’t need my powers to find her in this place. Her scent was heavy, but it was bitter in a way I’d never smelled on her before. Something was wrong—something really fucking bad had happened—and it was taking all my control not to kick every wall down.

“That smell, like chemicals. The same scent was in that building we tracked Faron to,” Jag said.

He was right, it was, but all I could focus on was my female. We made our way down one hall and then another.

“Hear that?” Loth said, tilting his head to the side. “Whispering.”

Until then, all I’d been able to hear was my blood rushing through my fucking ears. I forced myself to listen, to tune in—the sound of a low, roughened voice reached me. He was saying evil, sick fucking shit, and I knew instantly who he was directing that fucked-up shit to.

I broke into a run, barreling down the hall and turning into the next. There was a set of doors ahead of me. She was in there. My Fern was in there.

It was hard, but I made myself stop, and instead of busting the doors down, I eased them open as quietly as I could—

The beast lurched forward, snapping beneath my skin, while every muscle in my body contracted and every nerve ending went fucking haywire. Red rage filled my vision as I took in the scene.

Nothing could have prepared me for what was in front of me.

Fern was strapped to a gurney—naked, with a large and raw wound on her stomach and blood coating her chin. She was surrounded by sleeping creatures, the kind I’d never seen before—deformed, stitched together from mismatched body parts—their fucked-up bodies littering the floor. Only one was still awake, and he stood beside her, so close that she’d feel his breath on her skin. Her eyes were closed, her skin flushed and coated with sweat, and she was shaking uncontrollably.

Jag and Loth froze beside me, their rage as hot as mine, like a blast of hellfire.

On silent feet, I moved up behind the fucked-up creature as quietly as I could, and grabbed it, one hand covering its mouth, and twisted, snapping his neck with the other. It went limp, and I lowered him to the floor quietly. Stepping over it, I gently touched Fern’s fevered face. Her eyes snapped open, locking with me, but there was no acknowledgment, no recognition. There was just … nothing.

What have they done to you, baby?

I pressed my finger to my lips, telling her not to make a sound, as I slid off my vest and covered her with it. She’d been through enough; I didn’t want her to see what was about to happen next.

“Eyes closed, Tink,” I whispered.

“Kill them all,” Jag said low.

Whatever these creatures were, they weren’t the brains behind whatever this was. They were a fucked-up army created by a sick piece of shit. Loth and Jag shifted, tearing into them, but I stayed in my human form—well, as best as I could because Fern was scared enough as it was, but my poison-tipped claws had burst from the ends of my fingers, my face had distorted, and my mouth was now elongated and full of vicious teeth. I tore the creatures apart, firing my power at them and sending them across the room to smash against the wall, taking out creature after creature, until the place was strewn with blood and body parts.

Jag took off out the door to search the rest of the building, and Loth stood guard at the door as I got to work on Fern’s restraints. My fucking hands shook as I undid the ones at her ankles. I moved back up, and she was utterly motionless. She did nothing, said nothing.

“Fern?” I said in a garbled voice around my elongated jaw and fangs because I was seriously struggling to pull the beast back. “Tink, I’m here.”

* * *

FERN

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