Assured Ian would watch Harley’s back, he let his mind seep deeper into Harley’s and pulled her close. “I want you to approach the greenhouse and draw Raul outside. It’ll be easier for my hounds to restrain him there.” Calan reached a free hand back and rested his fingertips along her thigh. “Then I will kill him.”
“And Allie will be lost too.”
He tore his gaze from the building to peer over his shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not. A redcap’s word is not enough to go on. Once my siblings are released, we will search for her. For now, we must focus on returning the curse to Dar.”
“You’re right.” She tightened her grip on his waistband. “This is a trap, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t be certain of what, but he suspected Dar was behind it. “Now go, and remember, I am here. I’ll protect you.”
She nodded and pushed to her feet. With quick strides, she closed the distance. He followed her with his gaze and waited. She reached the clearing at the same time as squealing tires sounded in the distance behind him. Between one heartbeat and the next, the mark of the Hunt pulsed, announcing the arrival of a member of the Unseelie Court who wasn’t invisible to the Hunt—Dar.
Calan pivoted on his heel and faced the opposite direction. For a second, he was torn between his need to protect Harley and his duty to the world, but he couldn’t miss the opportunity to capture Dar. Everything depended on it, including Harley’s fate.
He ordered his hounds to stay with her, leaving them under Ian’s command, then allowed his Huntsman form to emerge. The change swept over him in a rush of pain he welcomed. The strength in his Hunter’s body fueled his limbs. He ran, the woods rushing by in a blur of color. He broke the tree line near the butterfly garden and cursed.
Dozens of sluaghs waited, all hidden from his detection: Raul’s puppets. Calan’s anger surged. The redcap would suffer for every human life he’d destroyed.
With a thought, Calan called Death to him and willed his sword to take shape. Both appeared in a puff of smoke. He leapt onto his horse’s back and raised his weapon. Flames danced over the length, snaking its way along the obsidian blade much like the living fire caressed Rhys during his unending torture.
Calan urged his horse forward and targeted the nearest rotting body. Once a young male, his muscular frame stood hunched, his spine contorted as his muscles and ligaments liquefied under the force of the chaotic taint eating away at its body. Without the immortality the fairies and redcaps held, the sluaghs’ existence was limited. It was why they killed. Fresh blood and flesh extended their pathetic lives.
Calan swung, the blade sliding easily through the soft flesh and bone. The sluagh’s head fell to the ground with a smack, blood and gore splattering. The sluagh’s soul rushed up in a vortex of light and wind from the headless husk. A sigh carried on the breeze, a thanks only a Huntsman heard.
He acknowledged it with a small dip of his chin, then leapt from his horse and turned to face the others even as the sound of the car grew louder. He swept his gaze over the unfortunate humans who awaited the mercy only he could give them. All appeared as malnourished as the one he’d just struck down.
Raul had been starving them.
Why? Surely he had suffered their hunger too as they were linked to him.
Calan pushed away the thought. He didn’t have time to dissect the redcap’s motives. The sluaghs advanced as one, clawed hands stretched outward. Their garbled grunts and groans carried over the rumble of the approaching car.
He raised his sword and cut through the nearest puppet. With a slash of the blade, another slaughter fell. He spun on his heel, swinging and thrusting at the group. One by one, they lost their heads. The whoosh of escaping souls echoed in his ears, along with their whispered gratitude.
With a whack, the last human victim found relief. Calan pivoted and ran toward the driveway just in time to see headlights crest the hill. The black sports car with its tinted windows took the turn too fast. It skidded sideways, spun, and came to a stop amidst a haze of smoke and burning rubber.
The driver’s unblinking, vacant eyes stared forward. Compared to the sluaghs Calan had just killed, the one in the car appeared surprising healthy. Whether glamour hid its monstrous body or it had been fed well, Calan couldn’t tell. He only knew it too would die after he dealt with the fairy whose taint rolled across Calan’s skin in a nauseating caress.
Stronger than it had been the last time he’d felt it, Dar’s evil presence swamped the area. The ground trembled, and gray clouds rolled across the sky where none had been. Lightning sparked, thunder rolled, and then the heavens opened. A line of torrential rain passed over the area. Behind the downpour, a wave of fog mixed with the tendrils of pure chaos weaving around his feet.
A human might be terrified by the raw display. Calan wasn’t impressed or frightened. Eagerness held him in a tight grip. He widened his stance and waited for the fairy to finish his little show of power.
The rear car door opened. Dar stepped out. The magical disguise he’d favored years ago—tall, lean body with golden hair and green eyes—hid his true form. Only his clothing and hairstyle were different. His black slacks and thin gray sweater matched the short, perfectly trimmed hair. Rings adorned his fingers, and a heavy silver watch reflected the light from the souls still whizzing in the air above.
Calan snapped his muzzle, the clack of teeth loud in the still of the night. He knew exactly what a bystander would
