Keegan nimbly twirled his stick, and clubbed the first hell hound in the ribs, driving it into the ground. It wheezed for breath, but dragged back up and attacked Keegan again, its savage jaws snapping. Although Keegan staggered back and almost fell, he could swing that huge blackthorn club with the precision of a fencing foil. He blocked every biting lunge with unexpected graceful movements. He sidestepped with the deftness of a matador, and hammered the shillelagh into the beasts ribs again and again.
Orin wrestled with his own hell hound, tearing into it with his claws. He landed a crushing kick to the beast’s back leg, and it collapsed. Orin pounced on the beast, straddling its belly, his claws tearing at the hound’s throat. He was ripping chunks of flesh, slashing veins, blood splashing in arterial spurts. Orin cut and ripped until the beast laid butchered and lifeless. He ran toward Weylyn, dripping in the hot, black blood of the Cu Sidhe.
Dub disappeared from Brann once again, “Where the fuck did he go?” Brann snapped, dodging as another hell hound’s claw grazed his chest.
“Hell if I know,” Keegan huffed. “Help me put this thing down!” The hell hound clamped its teeth deep into Keegan’s leg, as the leprechaun hammered his shillelagh on the beast’s skull. It released Keegan’s leg, shook its ugly head, then bit down again, sinking its fangs into Keegan and shaking him viciously.
For just a moment, Brann hesitated, trying to keep a damper on the amount of dark magic he allowed himself to draw upon, but Keegan needed help, badly. This was no time to worry about the addictive consequences of Brann’s dark magic. Brann gave in, totally opened himself to the ecstasy of the surging flow, feeling the rush, filling himself with a massive hit of power. His eyes blazed, his veins bulged, his tattooed runes glowed like they were radio-active, as he injected himself with the raw energy of the living natural world around them.
Brann moved with blinding speed and power. He impaled the hound, driving his dagger up under the chin, stabbing through the mouth and palate, clear out the top of the snout. Keegan let out a blistering cascade of curses, drawing my attention to his bleeding leg.
I stood up, called out to Keegan, wanting to help, but Dante’s teeth clamped my shredded shirt, and pulled me back. Where the fuck did you come from? “Let me go, I need to get to him,” I cried out, but Dante yanked me back so hard I fell on my ass.
“You have to help him,” I begged. Dante whimpered, torn between leaving me and helping his friend. “Please,” I said through falling tears. Dante dashed to the defense of Brann and Keegan. As he did, Orin and Weylyn ripped and clawed the last hell hound to death. They glanced over at me, suddenly they were up and dashing in my direction, and Brann’s eyes widened as he screamed “NO!”
Which made me realize there was danger behind me—
Dub advanced through the driving rain like the walking dead out for a stroll, without a care in the world. I struggled to my feet and retreated toward the guys, when suddenly I felt something wrap around my throat, cutting off my airway. I reached up and started clawing at the smoke tendrils around my neck.
“Stop! She can’t breathe!” Weylyn shouted at Dub.
“Enough!” he roared, and the guys froze. A standoff.
I could see the wheels turning in Brann’s head. Orin’s veins are popping out of his neck, and Weylyn was about to leap at Dub, whatever the cost.
Dub released the tendrils slightly, and I sucked in a deep breath.
The next hit of his power sliced through my body, as I let out a silent scream. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I dropped to my knees. My panic grew, as I heard four yells of pain come simultaneously from my guys.
Dub stood still with a wicked grin, soaking in all the cries of agony. Then he flung his arm to the side. I was quickly thrown back, and slammed into a tree. I crumpled down to the ground and saw Weylyn stiffen as I let out a groan.
“Have a seat, dear. Watch what I’m about to do to your friends here. It’s going to be one hell of a show.” He turned his attention to the four furious men in front of me.
The trees above me began dropping dead leaves, but it wasn’t the raging storm. It was Brann, as he drew in more power. For just a moment, his face betrayed what looked almost like sinful pleasure. Then he snapped back, and started launching balls of fire at Dub. They exploded, one after another, dirt and debris flying, but as for Dub, the fireballs had no effect.
Keegan positioned himself defensively, between Dub and me. Orin and Weylyn swarmed into Dub, a barrage of punches and claw swipes. Wanting to help, I started to rise, but Keegan screamed for me to stay down. Brann moved in, daggers flashing, slicing away at Dub, nailing him in the neck, arms, and torso. The twins switched out with Keegan, who clocked Dub in the face with his mighty shillelagh. Dub staggered, and Keegan swung the shillelagh again. The instant the club struck Dub, the blackthorn wood burst into flame. With a yelp, Keegan dropped it, and the shillelagh was consumed in seconds, reduced to smoke and ash, hissing as the rain hit the embers. The leprechaun looked like he’d lost a brother.
Dub wiped the black blood from his lips as he smiled with sadistic pleasure. It seemed all these attacks had no effect on him, but the guys continued to fight, taking turns. Dub was moving so fast it became a blur. His dark tendrils had nearly engulfed every man there, and nothing was able to break through it, not Weylyn’s teeth or Orin’s claws, nor Brann’s magic, not even Keegan’s sheer rage at being contained.
I moaned and raised
