Page 10 of Alien Devil's Wrath
The response was immediate and deeply satisfying.
Glimmer Moths erupted from rock crevices in a living cloud of shimmering wings. They swarmed every piece of active technology in the ravine.
Equipment died in seconds. Comm units sparked out. Weapon sights went dark. The tracking arrays shorted in cascades of sparks. The ravine plunged into chaos as my allies performed their little dance.
“Excellent timing,” I whispered, watching the guards stumble in sudden blindness.
And then Zarek struck.
He moved between shadows, every motion economical and lethal. The first guard died before his scream could form. The second tried to run, but Zarek bounded up the rock face and dropped on him from above.
The third guard found cover behind a boulder, trying to signal with hand mirrors. Clever, but not enough.
I whistled. Three ascending notes brought one of my Stalkers flowing down behind him. The spines punched through before he knew the danger.
The fourth guard broke. Threw down his weapon and ran for the ravine mouth.
Zarek let him run ten meters before putting a knife between his shoulder blades.
“Precise throw,” I said, genuinely impressed.
By the time the Moths dispersed, four guards lay dead. Zarek stood among them, wiping his blade clean, breathing barely elevated.
“Efficiently done,” I said, dropping from my perch.
He shot me an unreadable look, but I was already scavenging. Death was wasteful if you didn’t extract value.
“Military med-kit. Power cells. Emergency rations.” I worked through their gear methodically. “Quality blade here. Good weight distribution.”
We worked in quiet after that. The efficiency of our partnership was remarkable. I provided strategic solutions, he provided implementation.
“Useful haul,” I said, shouldering the supply pack.
When I finished, the light had taken on golden tones. Evening approached fast.
“We need shelter before dark,” I said. “Temperature drops quickly, and night hunters will be active.”
He nodded once, then shouldered his pack. But his movements had changed. Slower. More deliberate. His hand never strayed far from his weapon.
Smart warrior. He was right to be cautious.
After all, the most dangerous predators were the ones that looked harmless.
ZAREK
We made camp in a shallow depression between two stone ridges, the position defensible and hidden from casual observation. The fire was small, barely more than coals, casting weak light that didn’t travel far beyond our shelter.
I took first watch, settling against the rock wall where I could observe all approaches. The night came alive around us. Distant howls, the scrape of claws on stone, something large breathing heavily in the darkness. Each sound scraped at my nerves, reminding me that this world belonged to predators far more at home in darkness than I was.
My hand rested on the Sovereign’s blade, the familiar weight a comfort in the hostile night. The ceremonial knife he’d given me, a tangible piece of the man who’d been more father than master.
Joric Slade’s face rose in my memory. Sharp features twisted by cruelty, pale eyes that had looked at me with satisfaction as his men left me for dead. The old rage stirred, a cold poison I’d carried for years. It burned in my chest, familiar and welcome. Rage I understood. Rage I could use.
But rage wasn’t the only thing stirring in my chest anymore.
I glanced at Bronwen, curled on her side near the dying fire. Even asleep, she looked deceptively harmless. Soft curves and peaceful expression, dark hair fanned across her makeshift pillow. Nothing about her suggested the calculating mind that had orchestrated the death of those guards with such gleeful efficiency.
She’d watched them die with eager eyes and genuine enthusiasm. Called her creatures pets while they tore apart flesh. The memory of her gleeful celebration made my cock twitch despite everything.
