Page 61 of Griffin Undone
The riot of pain and hate that had stretched me to the breaking point for nine hundred years faded in the aftermath. Here, with Kat in my arms, everything was quiet. Peaceful.
Perfect.
ChapterTwenty-Six
Arik
It didn’t take long for the peace to fade and the panic to rise. Lying on the couch, Kat dozing off in my arms, felt…right. Too right. And anything too right in my life either disappeared or died. With Kat, the chance of the latter was even higher than most.
Not to mention, the closer I got to Kat, the harder it would be to use her. With the lust momentarily abated, my brain threw that fact up at me. Sex was fine; feeling was not.
How the hell did this woman threaten to make me forget my purpose over and over again?
I managed to hold on till Kat fell back asleep in the big bed I’d carried her to, but as soon after as I was able to throw on clothes and weapons, I was at the door. In the hours since, as I rode the air currents in animal form, the ghosts of my parents rose, haunting me, accusing me of faithlessness, their severed heads floating above lifeless bodies, gaping mouths crying out for justice. I couldn’t allow everything I’d worked for to be destroyed because of my dick.
How cliché would that be?
As if my parents’ memory wasn’t enough, my griffin had spent the time making his displeasure over the separation from Kat known. My animal had been possessive before, but now? Now he’d had a taste of her, a taste of what she could give us, and he refused to quiet; his female slept back in the lair, unguarded, alone. But the male in me had needed the separation, needed to escape, to understand what the hell kind of spell Kat had woven from day one to break my singular focus so easily.
I slapped down my animal with a roar of my own. A deep anger began to bloom in my soul—at myself, my griffin, Kat, the whole damn world. I let it fill out my hollow skin and wash away the weakness I would never have believed a piece of ass could engender. That’s all it was, all it could ever be, but I was treating it like some damnedromance.
Surveillance was familiar, automatic. The opposite of emotion, which was exactly what I needed right now. I easily fell into the pattern I’d established in the last few days, the griffin reluctantly obeying. The run-down, industrial area where I’d hidden Kat just after her attack had been a beehive of Anigma and Archai activity. The two sides seemed to be following each other, chasing their own tails in the process without making any actual progress in finding me or Kat. I planned to keep it that way until Maddox made his appearance and I could bait my trap.
And from the look of the street below me a half hour later, it appeared as if tonight might just be my lucky night.
Gliding silently above the slick black ribbon of road curving toward the lair, I watched six black-clothed figures leapfrogging their way through the shadows of buildings, shallow doorways, dumpsters, and trash-filled alleys. The precision of their movements told me I was watching Maddox’s pack; no way those were barely trained Anigma grunts. The big one had to be Baer—he surpassed Maddox by quite a bit in the size department, even if the shifter didn’t have the balls to get his brothers away from the Mad Hatter running their dysfunctional little family. Or maybe he did, but as far as I could see, he’d never made the attempt. For whatever reason, Baer stayed under Maddox’s thumb, and where he stayed, so did his four brothers. Before tonight only the five werewolves had made an appearance, but now I counted six.
Guess Maddox finally had his intestines secure inside his gut.
Careful not to alert the shifters, I furled my wings and arrowed my animal’s body straight onto a low rooftop directly above my temporary lair’s entrance, pulling up at the last second. Werewolves preferred the ground, where their noses and claws could do more good; I preferred to drop in uninvited. And clothed. I made quick work of shifting, then dressing before I moved to the edge and glanced over.
The team filtered into the alley one by one, taking position at varying points. I let everything else drop away—the night with Kat, my uncertainty and anger, everything—and focused in on the tableau below me. Once the group of shifters surrounded the door, the youngest member of Maddox’s pack directly below my position, I dropped silently into the shadows, just behind the shifter.
A quick grab ’n’snap and the werewolf fell like garbage onto the filthy pavement, a shallow scream all he could get out with his neck broken. Not dead—no, he was a far more effective distraction if the others had to guard against anything that might sever his spine for good. The short sword I palmed fit the bill, but I wouldn’t use it. Yet.
Instead I stepped casually over the fallen Anigma as the rest of Maddox’s pack swung around, their red-tinged eyes zeroing in on me. Theshhckof multiple knives pulled from their sheaths rang from every corner of the alley.
The door to the lair opened.
Sun walked calmly into the alley, four males wearing Archai insignia on their chests following, blades already in hand.
So did that make this eleven against one or even numbers?
Baer didn’t seem to care about the newcomers. One look at his fallen brother and his roar shook the brick walls surrounding us. He charged me, and the fight was on. Grunts and moans and curses, the heavythudof flesh striking flesh, theclangof metal striking metal filled the alley. I caught glimpses of the Archai engaging the rest of the Anigma team—even numbers, then—but all my attention centered on getting through Baer to reach Maddox.
Baer feinted. His short sword reflected the light as it sliced the air beside my cheek, but I refused the invite to drop my guard and blocked the werewolf’s return strike instead. Our skills were evenly matched, but Baer’s extra inches and massive frame gave him enough advantage to keep me occupied. I played mouse to Baer’s cat until a bright flash lit our left side. Baer turned, a short, tortured sound escaping his lips when the male left standing wasn’t his pack mate. I used the distraction to slam Baer’s temple with the butt of my knife, the full-force blow knocking him down and out.
I turned for Maddox—and froze.
Maddox stood at the end of the alley, arm locked around one of the Archai warrior’s necks, machete at his throat. The chill night air filled with the Anigma leader’s laugh.
“What’s the matter, Arik?” He stroked the lethal knife edge along the shifter’s smooth cheek. “It’s not like you care about any of them, is it? Come and get me.”
No, I didn’t care. I didn’t even know this warrior’s name. The prisoner’s death would serve my purpose, I knew—nothing could incite a war faster than murder. But the warrior had fought, if not for me, then at least alongside me, and even I wasn’t enough of a bastard to hasten his death. Let Sun’s team prevent that if they could.
Step by cautious step, I moved closer, gaze locked with Maddox’s. The hostage would make it or not, but Maddox was the key to either outcome. Better to focus there and not give Maddox reason to believe I cared.
When no more than a couple of yards separated us, Maddox slid the barest tip of his blade lightly along the Archai’s jawline. A bright red stripe shone in the dim light—a warning.
