To Hell and Back (League of Guardians 1.50)

For a second, a sliver of hope rolled through Kira—it looked like Priest had the upper hand—but then she felt the heat of danger at her back and knew her time was up.

A roar sounded behind her.

The cold dread that sat in her gut tasted like sawdust. Kira gripped the dagger still in her hand and turned around. The demon had followed her from the forest and stood a few feet away, legs spread, deadly blade in hand, a grin exposing sharp, serrated teeth.

It began to walk toward her, each step accompanying an answering heartbeat inside Kira. She was cold. Numb, really.

Had she really escaped death weeks earlier only to find it once more out here in the middle of nowhere? Was the love she’d found with Logan going to wither and die as her blood spilled?

She thought of the child. Of the man she loved. And sorrow filled her. It was deep and heart wrenching. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away.

Focus.

The noise from behind her faded. Priest would meet his own destiny, and Kira needed to forge her own. To make a stand even if it was her last.

Her fear and anger and pain slipped away as she got to her feet, swaying slightly, her body exhausted and shaking from adrenaline overload. The demon was much closer now, his otherworld stink filling her nostrils, the inhuman glint in his eye unmistakable.

She held the dagger in front of her.

Always take the head, it’s the only way. Logan’s words echoed in her mind and the despair inside her tripled. The beast was huge and strong and grinning at her as if she was going to be the most delectable appetizer he’d ever had. How in the hell was she going to bring such a creature to its knees?

It was nearly upon her, Goliath to her David, when it paused and a strange expression fell over its face. The eyes were wide now, filled with something that looked like shock. Kira took a step back, breaths falling rapidly, knees shaking like crazy, and watched as the demon’s head slowly tilted forward and then fell to the ground. It rolled a few feet toward her as its massive body buckled and fell to the side.

The sun shone so brightly then, that for a second, she saw nothing but the blurry outline of a tall body.

“It’s about bloody time.”

She whirled around and heaved a sigh of relief as Priest strode forward, dark blood dripping from the end of his sword.

“Sorry I’m late to the party.” The tall newcomer said as he stepped out from behind the dead demon and moved toward her. Before Kira could react, he grabbed her elbow and turned toward the road. “And though I’d love to chat, catch-up-and-get-to-know-each-other-time isn’t on our side at the moment. We’ve got to get going.”

“Who are you?” she asked in a small voice.

“Cale.” He didn’t miss a beat.

“Where are we going?” She shrugged out of his grip, eyes trained on Priest.

Priest’s steely gaze moved to the second man and something passed between the two of them. “The Pines,” Priest answered carefully. “It’s the only place we can keep you safe.”

“The Pines,” she arched questioning brow. “Where is that?”

Priest nodded into the distance. “Not far, but if we don’t get out asses in gear, it’s gonna feel like eternity.”

Chapter Six

* * *

SHE’D FALLEN ASLEEP an hour into the ride. The warm air blowing from the vents, the glare of the sun through the windows of the truck, the heavy wool blanket Priest had given her—all of them, combined with exhaustion, lulled her to dreamland.

And at the moment it was a place she never wanted to leave.

Warm. Safe. Sensual.

Kira carefully picked her way through a bed of moss-green grass, so soft it felt like she was walking on clouds. Her toes burrowed deep into the blades and she sighed happily as she moved forward. A butterfly drifted in the air, the large, multicolored wings luminescent beneath the sun’s rays. God, how she loved butterflies.

Her gaze followed its languid progress. She watched as it dipped into the breeze and rode an invisible wave higher until it once more drifted down. A glow emanated several feet ahead of her, its warmth caressing her bare flesh, and as a breeze picked up she couldn’t quite place the smells in the air. Fresh. Tangy. Sharp, yet … soft.

Where was she?