Page 26 of Elven Throne

So wherewashe?

Her first quick scan of the tree line in that direction turned up nothing. Even when she slowed and peered more closely at the woods, searching for movement or the familiar silver glow in the darkness, there was still nothing.

Why couldn’t she find him?

Something must have gone wrong.

“Hey, has anyone seen Hannigan?” she shouted, unable to look away from the tree line for fear she’d miss him when he showed himself.

Before anyone had a chance to respond, a swift movement from the tree line caught her eye.

It wasn’t Maxwell, wolf or man.

Something heavy and much smaller hurtled toward her through the air.

Her stunned vision caught up to it a split second before the object hit the asphalt in front of her with a wet, squelching thump, bounced twice, and rolled across the rubble toward her.

When it stopped at her feet, wobbling beneath fading momentum, horror rippled through her before she could process any of the finer details of the severed head staring back up at her.

8

Arare,mindlesspaniccoursedthrough Rebecca from head to toe as she struggled to comprehend what she was looking at.

She’d been so preoccupied by the sensation of Maxwell’s approach, of how long it had taken him to reach her, and of the inexplicable difference in exactlyhowshe felt him, that the first crazed thought blundering through her mind was that this was theshifter’shead.

The instant terror of it nearly brought her to her knees before she realized in the darkness that this was definitelynotMaxwell staring up at her with wide-open eyes glazed over in death.

Her heart skittered painfully in her chest until she forced herself to breathe and make sense of the evidence instead of drawing stupid, baseless conclusions.

This head belonged to a grimbúl, the overlarge mouth gaping open, thick lips flecked with spittle and blood. The jagged strips of flesh at the uneven base of the neck—or what remained of it—proved this particular body part had been ripped viciously off a pair of shoulders by something that was definitelynota clean-cutting blade.

She’d only seen this face once before, right after first joining Shade, and she had no trouble recognizing it now.

Eduardo.

“What the…”

“Holy shit!”

“Is that a… Oh fuck.”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“I swear, if it startsrainingbody parts now, I’m done. For real.”

Her operative’s useless comments pulled Rebecca out of her stunned staring. She whipped her head up toward the spot within the trees from which this severed head had been thrown her way.

More movement there within the woods, and when she recognized that too, her knees almost buckled.

Maxwell emerged from the thick darkness of the forest, moving slowly, barefoot in a pair of dark jeans, his gray-and-red flannel button-down shirt hanging open at the center. His silver eyes glowed fiercely as he stepped forward, and they seemed to brighten with every step.

He walked in a straight line, spine erect and shoulders rolled back, confident and sure. Though he didn’t appear to be injured, there was something about him Rebecca couldn’t quite place,

Something she could only describe in that first split-second assessment as completelywrong.

Her gut clenched.

When he drew closer to one of the two remaining streetlamps still functioning within the parking lot, she realized what it was.

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