“You were pretty handy bringing that douche to his knees.” Sophie plopped another beer in front of Amaya. “That drink is on me.”

“Thanks.” Amaya downed it in a long swallow.

“That hold you used, I’ve practiced it next door at Maximum Effort, but you made it look so effortless. One quick flip of your wrist and he was on the ground. Good thing I was looking that way or I would’ve missed it.” She grinned wide enough to show all her teeth.

“You’re a little blood thirsty, aren’t you?” Amaya saluted the waitress with her beer.

Sophie’s smile faded like a storm overtaking a sunny day and she flipped her burgundy hair off her shoulder. “Yeah. A little.”

She had the look of someone who’d been hurt, badly, and hadn’t come out the other side yet. “What happened? Sorry, none of my business.” Amaya took another sip of her beer.

Sophie’s brow furrowed and dipped her head. She seemed a bit confused, but turned back after a deep sigh. “Don’t worry about the douche. Though, you don’t remember,” she mumbled under her breath, as if Amaya were slow and hard of hearing. She caught every mumbled word. “The douche left after you snapped his wrist. He won’t be back,” Sophie finished.

Amaya smiled. She noted the two UnHallowed sitting in the rear of the bar. The one with shoulder-length dark brown hair and scruffy beard had used his power to freeze everyone in the room. That power hadn’t affected her. Though Bane froze her that one time, it seemed she’d become immune to their freezing defense. Good, she never wanted to be that helpless again, but she’d keep that information to herself.

Sophie noticed the UnHallowed as well. She stared directly at the one sitting to the left of Scruffy. He beat Scruffy by five inches and at least fifty pounds of muscle. He had a mohawk, the shaved sides tattooed with some unknown language, while his coffee colored hair was pulled back in a queue. Add to that picture a scar traveling from the corner of his right eye, across his nose, to end on the left side of his mouth. The UnHallowed wouldn’t pose for GQ, but the hair, tats, and scars certainly heightened his serial killer vibe.

Suddenly the air shimmered around them and the entire area—seat, table, drinks, and men—vanished…until she shifted her head at an angle and they came into view. They were there, then they weren’t. No one else noticed.

Shadows pooled in the corridor behind their booth and another UnHallowed appeared. This one had wings! Fucking wings like Michael. Big, gray, fluffy wings. Body wise, he was the carbon copy of Mr. Mohawk, except for the wings and close cropped dirty blond hair.

“You can see them, can’t you,” Sophie’s whisper snapped Amaya out of her trance.

She shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Wary awe entered her voice and she edged away. “You can see the UnHallowed.”

The word UnHallowed reverberated through the air. Amaya felt it travel through her skin and muscles to settle in her bones. In the mirror on the rear wall, every person, except for Sophie and Amaya, froze again.

“Oh, crap.” Sophie mouthed.

Multiple footsteps echoed behind Amaya. She stilled, not sure whether to pretend she could move, or out herself. She chose the latter and turned slowly to face the three UnHallowed.

“Who are you?” Scruffy asked.

Since they asked a question, they had to expect an answer. Waves of power buffeted her, pressing at her will. Instinct caused her to push back which earned her the crimson eyed stare from all three. No use pretending she was just an ordinary human now. Would every UnHallowed ask the who are you question?

“You first, UnHallowed,” she said to Scruffy. The tension ticked up a notch. None of them backed down. Her weapons were in her pockets. On a good day, she may be able to kill one UnHallowed. But three? Two of which were supersized, bigger than Bane. Amaya wasn’t delusional.

“Playing with us is not a good idea, human.” Gray wings scowled, earning a shark-like grin from Mr. Mohawk standing to his left.

“Do I look like I’m playing or afraid of any of you?” She took a sip of her beer.

Scruffy peered over her shoulder at Sophie. “Who is she?”

“I don’t know. I served her dinner and a few beers. I didn’t get her name.” Suspicion gave Sophie’s voice an edge it didn’t have before.

“Did she threaten you?” Scruffy asked Sophie. His concern for her wasn’t platonic. Possession was stamped all over his lean features.

Sophie shook her head. “We were just talking, having a casual conversation, when I noticed she could see you guys when she shouldn’t be able to.”

Amaya pulled out her wallet and paid for her meal in cash. “Nice meeting you, Sophie. Excuse me, gentlemen.”

She squeezed around the trio and sauntered out of the door. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she had a tail. That meant she couldn’t go back to her hotel and she damn sure wasn’t going to lead them back to Bane.

Did he know them? Probably. Bad enough she had to deal with one UnHallowed. She didn’t need three more ganging up on her.

She made it to the parking lot when the trio stepped from the shadows. They moved like a unit, contained, controlled, although violence was only a heartbeat away...her heart beat. Nothing resided in their chest cavities that came close to the organ keeping her alive.

Savagery pulsed beneath a thin veneer of civility, plainly visible to those who chose to see it and not shy away from the intensity. But damn, it hurt looking at them. Their eyes were too bright, too hot, too frozen, the intensity beat her senses, set her teeth on edge. She wanted to scrub her eyeballs and run. She hated to admit Bane didn’t make her feel that way. Raw, alive, invincible, and vulnerable was all that registered when he looked at her.

The UnHallowed closed in, their intent clear. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not that she wanted to. Excitement bubbled up inside her gut.

“Did you really think we’d let you walk away,” Scruffy grunted.

Amaya shook her head. “No, but I was serious when I said you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” They had really good poker faces. She had no idea if they’d go for it or not.

A red Mercedes coup drove into the lot and parked in a reserved spot. A female climbed out of the car. Designer mini dress, platinum blond hair with the lower two inches dyed jet black, high heels, high maintenance. “What’s going on here?” she said to the UnHallowed, then saw Amaya. “Who the fuck are you?”

Wait a sec. Amaya knew the female from her bouncer days. “Aren’t you Scarla Weston, the MMA fighter?”

She paused and gave Amaya a closer appraisal. “I think I know you too. Dimi’s club. You were the bouncer there for a bit. Then you vanished. I thought something bad happened to you. I asked Dimi. He said he didn’t know anything.”

Amaya nodded. “Yeah. I bailed on him.”

“So, you two know each other?” Scruffy tipped his head to both of them.

Scarla shrugged and folded her arms. “We know of each other. What’s going on here?”

“She knows of us, Scarla,” Gray wings barked.

Scarla smirked. “She probably screwed Tahariél and he got careless. Wipe her mind clean and be done with it.”

Amaya placed her hands on her hips. If they couldn’t freeze her, she doubted they could mess with her mind, but just in case, she didn’t relish them trying. “None of you are screwing with my memories.”

Scarla chuckled. “You have some balls on you. This will be all over before you finish your next thought.” She tilted her head at the trio backing her up.

“Scarla, I’ve been trying to get into her mind for several minutes, and cannot,” Gray wings growled.

That earned Amaya a penetrating glare from Scarla. She walked up to Amaya, and got in her face. “I repeat the question. Who are you?”

A better question was how did Sophie and Scarla know the UnHallowed? How did they fit into their dark world? Amaya needed information to piece this puzzle together. She’d have to give a little to get a little. Not the route she wanted to go, but she would play the hand she got. “You tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.” Not any of the important parts, but she would give them a nice fairy tale.

Scarla painted lips twisting artfully. “How about I start with the story of how I kicked your ass.”

Well, that went south quickly. Scarla had Amaya by four inches, the difference between her jackboots and Scarla’s stilettos. The MMA fighter took advantage of the difference by looming over Amaya. An intimidation tactic that would have worked on someone else. Scarla wanted a fight. She’d hopped out of her car already on edge regardless of the mini-dress and high heels. Amaya had no problem accommodating Scarla’s need because she had the same need. It had been too long since she hit something, killed something. Infants needed milk and a warrior needed a war.

And that’s what she was, a warrior jonesing for a hit. The only question, would she be fighting all of them? When she cracked the UnHallowed’s pet human, would they all jump in? Things could get bad if they did. Amaya eyed the UnHallowed trio, judging their interest in a girl fight.

“Are you looking for them to help? Well, they won’t help you because they want me to choke the truth out of you. I’m the lesser of four evils. While I’m only going to kick your ass, Chay”—Scarla pointed to Scruffy with the long brown hair— “would do you a kindness and kill you quickly. He doesn’t like women to suffer.” She pointed to gray wings. “Daghony would rip the soul out of your body and devour it while you still have enough life to see the event.” She hiked her thumb at the scarred, mohawked, UnHallowed. “Kushiél would keep you alive for weeks though, you’d pray for death within the first five minutes.”

Chay, Daghony, and Kushiél. “Thank you, Scarla, for filling in the blanks.” Amaya struck first. A right hook to Scarla’s jaw caught her by surprise.

Amaya flipped Scarla onto her back and got two more blows in, then Amaya went flying across the parking lot. She landed on a Mustang, denting the hood. Chay grabbed Amaya’s arm. She used the same hold she had on the guy in the bar, but this time, she followed through with a volley of fists.

Chay blocked the blows without delivering any of his own. He stood there and took it. “You can’t win, little girl.”

“Yeah? I’m just getting started.” Amaya stopped pulling her punches, and leaped clear of the UnHallowed to get some space to work. She pulled her blades and a vial of holy water free. She popped the cork on the vial and poured the water over her weapons. The vial shattered at her feet. Weapons dripping water onto the asphalt, she faced her opponents.

“Who’s first to die?”