Murmuring, I roll onto my stomach. Drifting on semi consciousness, I snuggle further in the softness of the blankets. Warm. Safe. There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now. It’s been a while since I’ve slept so soundly.

Thoughts trickling like slow flowing water, the events of the evening before filter through my mind.

I have no memory of falling asleep. The last thing I remember is being whipped with the belt.

A dull throbbing in my backside assures me it was real.

Eyelashes fluttering open, I take in the room.

Glittering white marble walls make up the huge space around me. The massive bed I’m situated on is the centre piece and covered by thick soft furs which keep out the cold. I’m nestled within.

A sturdy wooden chair is positioned by the side of the mattress. As if someone has been occupying it while I’ve been asleep.

To the left are three doors.

A long, wide window to my right looks out over the frozen landscape lit by the light of the early morning sun.

I’m alone. Lucifer is nowhere to be seen.

Spying my clothes neatly folded on the top of the chair, I roll cautiously from the bed. The movement sends discomfort through my punished buttocks.

“Looks like someone had a good evening.”

Attention darting to the voice, I discover Raziel watching me from one of the doors.

“What do you want?” I growl, giving the fallen angel the evil eye.

Amusement creases his handsome features. “I’m here to take you back. I assume you want to go to The Playground to see Mistress Talia?”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave.” Snatching up my things, I hug them to my fur covered chest.

Head tipping to the side, he regards me closely. “And we both know that isn’t going to stop you. At least this way you won’t get lost out there in the snow.”

He’s right. It won’t. I haven’t forgotten my mission or my purpose. Nathan needs rescuing and not even a beating from the Devil himself will prevent that.

“You worried about me?”

“I’m more concerned about Hell. We don’t need you on the rampage.”

That makes me smile. “What about your boss?”

With a careless shrug, Raziel flexes his large black wings that are once more folded against his muscled back. “You’ll be gone before he gets back from business and how you escaped is anyone's guess. You’re resourceful. We’re all aware of that.”

Tempting. I’m sure as shit I won’t be getting out of here without help. But I need to know his price. This is still Hell. No one helps anyone without wanting something in return.

“And why the fuck should I trust you?”

Raziel grins. “Because I’m your only hope of getting out of here and you’ll owe me a favour in return.”

Fuck. More bargains. I’m so sick of making them I automatically want to say no. But that’s not an option.

“Fine.” I sigh, dragging the furs farther off the bed, making sure they’re swaddled around me. “But if this turns into some kind of double cross I will blow your God damn brains out.”

“Bathroom is over there.” He tells me, gesturing helpfully towards a door. “Remember, time here is different. You have a few hours at most before we’re supposed to be at the club. Trukun is the General you'll be looking for. She’s a nasty piece of work.”

“She?” That piques my interest.

“You thought all of the Boss’s commanders were male?” Raziel tuts. “Trust me, this bitch is the blood thirstiest of them all.”

Finding my weapons bag under the chair, I pad across the room. “I bet I can give her a run for her money.” Not waiting for his reply, I slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with a click.

I’m losing my fucking sanity. I have no reason to trust Raziel, but I’m once again forced into this situation. As frenemies go, he’s way too chummy. He’s up to something. Going behind the Devil’s back is suicidal, especially with things as they are right now.

Dropping the furs, I place my clothes on a chair by the wall. The room is just as splendid as the others I have seen. White tiles grace the floors which are heated from below. Every comfort and indulgence you could dream of have been fitted. A jacuzzi, sunk Roman bath, frosted glass shower big enough to accommodate half a dozen people.

Again, it strikes me as odd to find a selection of female bathing products displayed on the side. Fancy shampoos, conditioners, and soaps all unopened. Lotions for different uses. As if someone has gone out of their way to make sure they’re here.

Retrieving a towel, I head for the shower. I have no time to linger. Nathan is waiting, and I can’t fail my big brother now.

Wincing at the dull ache in my buttocks, I check out the damage in the full-length mirror.

Dark bruises strip each globe. Another has bloomed across my thigh where the bite of the leather belt had hit me. It disturbs me that I must have fallen asleep in Lucifer’s arms. That he must have put me to bed after the punishment.

I’ve just tasted his anger at me leaving the last time, now I’m risking it all over again.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I step into the cubicle. Shoving the thought aside, I turn on the taps. Water streams down over my head. Pummelling over my shoulders, it unwinds the tension thrumming through me. In record time, I wash myself clean of the last few days, taking care with my hair.

Drying off with the towel, my locks are just as quickly sorted with a hair dryer.

Dressing in jeans and a sweatshirt, I stuff my feet into my trainers before shrugging on the leather jacket.

I find Raziel waiting for me as I re-enter the bedroom. One muscled shoulder leaning idly against the glass he’s staring out over the winter wonderland beyond. His wings are nowhere to be seen. I know from working with Gabriel angels have the ability to draw them into their backs to hide them. An easy way to blend in with humankind.

I take a moment to study his sombre profile. It reflects a weariness that resonates with something within me. A yearning for something more.

Shaking myself free of staring, I hurry to collect my weapon bag.

“Lose the bag.” Raziel tells me, turning from his musings.

That makes me snort with amusement. “I’m not going without being armed.”

“Then use the ones you can conceal,” he suggests.

This really isn’t a good idea, but I can tell by his expression he won’t take me unless I agree.

Sighing, I dump the bag back down.

Crouching, I unzip it and rummage through, looking for my holsters. I strip off my jacket and slip it on before restoring my coat. Finding my pistol with blessed ammo I slide it into the waiting snugness. Next, I attach the smaller holsters for my blades to my wrists. Anything to give me an advantage.

Raziel watches my progress in silence. His thick eyebrows raised slightly as he watches me prepare.

Maybe he thinks it’s overkill. I don’t give a shit if he does. I’m going to war. When I’m done, Talia and her sister, Trukun will be nothing but stains on the club floor.

“Ready.” I say, finally rising.

“About bloody time.”

Striding across the distance between us, he grabs a hold of my arm. Light flashes brightly, disorienting my senses. With it, comes a serene feeling of wellbeing. It doesn’t last long. Blinking, I find myself standing on a dark chilly street.

Dropping his grip, Raziel doesn’t wait. He walks away.

I automatically recognize The Bookworms Delight bookshop. Beside it, steps lead down to a heavy wooden door. The words, The Playground, are lit up ominously above it in neon blue.

Mistress’s Talia’s BDSM club. Now I know it wasn’t random. The son of a bitch brought me here for this reason. He knew his ex-commander, Trukun, was Talia’s sister. It was a devious way of having me scope out the place without realising. That poses the question, does the Devil know I’m here now?

Throwing a shrewd look at my companion, his expressionless profile gives nothing away. I’m being toyed with again. A game of twisted truths and lies I really don’t like.

Luckily for me it’s a different bouncer who answers the door, but he’s no less intimidating. Mistress Talia forbade me to come back. Guess she doesn’t get her wish, after all.

A narrow corridor greets us. This time there's no smiling hostess to take my coat.

Making our way along, I find the main part of the club startlingly different. No dimmed light and music.

A chain linked cage dominates the middle of the room, hanging from the ceiling. It gives the place an Ultimate Fighter feel. Grappling within, two men are in the bloody heat of battle. Crimson and sweat bathes their skin. Straining and shaking, they trade blow after blow, their knuckles bruised and bleeding.

“What is this?” I ask Raziel, taking in the packed excited crowd.

He jostles his way through the throng. “Illegal fights Mistress Talia likes to hold to bring in money. People pay well to see these.”

Pounding their fists, the on lookers screams jubilantly as one of the men goes down. Chasing him, his rival continues to slam punches into his messed-up face. The aggression in the air is off the charts.

“They’re not all human.” I mutter, gaze roving to the line of waiting challengers ready to take a place in the ring.

Looping a thick arm around my waist, the fallen angel brings me in close to his side as we progress across the room.

“No. She has supernatural slaves. Some of the contenders are snatched off the streets to keep things lively. Makes it more interesting when they’re fighting to the death.”

Revulsion rises in my throat. “You know a lot about this, don’t you?”

Amusement lifts the corners of his lips as he gives me a knowing look. “It’s my job to be in the know. I also like to wager.”

I watch the exchange of notes as bets are won around us.

Up on the stage, the referee is bent over the broken form of the male who lost. With a shake of his head he confirms the guy is dead. It’s a brutal way to go. By the non-existent reaction of the crowd it’s something they are used to.

“Evening Gents. I have a new challenger I’d like to sign up.” Raziel says cheerfully beside me.

Attention snapping back, I realise we’re next to a table. Calculating eyes run over me and not just from the bald ugly guy who seems to be in charge.

Son of a bitch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper, bending farther into the fallen angel’s broad side.

“You’re a commodity to be used.” He whispers back, minty breath warm against the shell of my ear.

“Business is business, little girl. Our deal was for a favour in return and so now you’re going to make me some money.” With a nudge of his chin, he guides my attention to the VIP area overlooking the show. “If you win two fights the winners get presents from the owner.”

Mistress Talia. I can see the back of the bitch as she stands chatting to a small group. Her platinum blonde hair is plaited down her back. Instead of purple leather she’s wearing a tight red dress that showcases her perfect figure and long toned legs.

Fingers curling into my palms, I itch to have them around her pretty slender neck.

Registering movements to my right, I eye the guards who approach with an air of purpose that makes my hackles rise.

“Careful now, she’s a feisty one, and she’s armed. “Raziel tells them helpfully. “Best to give her a good frisking so you don’t miss anything.”

Inside me, instincts to fight war with the need for patience. There’s too many for me to subdue.

Gritting my teeth, I stand still while they strip me of the leather jacket and disarm me. I knew the mother fucker was going to double-cross me. It’s why I came prepared. Keeping my expression annoyed, I hide my glee when they overlook my hidden knife.

“In there with the rest of them.”

A rough hand on my back shoves me inside the contender’s pen.

Shrewd glances run over me. Sizing me up to see how much of a threat I might be. To the supernaturals I’m just another inferior human. Easy prey.

Stalking to the back, I press up against the wall.

Tracing the outline of the small knife concealed in the material of my jeans at my hip, I imagine driving it through Talia’s neck. Next, I would move onto Raziel, and hack off his pretty wings. To distract myself from acting out my fantasy too soon, I check out the new fighters already on stage.

Shifters. A wolf and a bear. Both already in their beast forms, they’re stalking each other menacingly around the confined space of the cage.

With its sheer size, the room seems to shrink as the were-bear goes up on its hind legs. One of its eyes has been gouged out. The injury so bad from a previous battle it can no longer open.

Thinner and leaner, the werewolf has a mangled ear that hangs limply.

“Your turn.”

Glancing down, I see the table where people are each taking turns to snort up long lines of white powder along the surface with a straw.

Raising an eyebrow, I shake my head. “I don’t do that shit.”

“You don’t have a choice. Every competitor takes a hit of blow.” A skinny woman tells me as she sets them up.

Raziel sucks on his teeth in disapproval, shooting me a hard glare from where he’s positioned himself by the wire door. “You want to be on my shit list? I promise it won’t be a pleasant experience for you.”

Scowling back, I give him the finger. He really is an arsehole. Squatting down, I grab a spare short straw. Positioning it against my left nostril, I lean over, snorting up a fine line. I know cocaine will be absorbed into my nasal passage. From there it will join my bloodstream. This way it will give a powerful high. There’s no way to tell how long it will last. Fifteen minutes or several hours at the most. Enough for each fighter to experience euphoria before they battle to the death.

Almost immediately, a burst of energy rushes through me, releasing large amounts of dopamine in the brain. The pleasure chemical. I feel focused, alert. Ready for what’s to come. Everything functioning a million times faster.

I avoid worrying about the anxiety-ridden comedown I know will follow or the price of addiction. All the fucked-up side effects that come hand in hand with such drugs.

Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, my attention crawls back to the fight cage.

A swipe from a huge paw sends a few teeth flying from the Wolf’s muzzle.

Blood covers their hides and paws. Lacerations are evident along their flanks where they’ve grappled.

This won’t last long. Both are exhausted. Fuelled on adrenaline, hate, and a need to be victorious. To leave the ring breathing.

With a spine-chilling bellow, the bear thunders towards its opponent.

A new round of howls fill the room as the wolf goes down under the sheer brute force of powerful muscle and a blow to the head. Squealing in agony as jaws clamp around its neck, blood spurts onto the floor. A few shakes from the bear and the other Were lays dead.

“You’re up next.” The guy dealing out the drugs announces.

Blankly, I watch the carcass of the werewolf hefted clear. Its remains in the progress of shifting to its human form.

I crush my emotions. Stuff them away in a box and throw away the key before a sense of injustice can invade. Calmness sweeps through me. Silencing my mind.

Head held high, I take the two steps up onto the battle ground.

Crimson stains the mats, still sticky and wet in places. Evidence of the senseless violence that has been organized for this rabid mob.

“Next up is a new challenger.” A voice booms over a speaker. “Place your bets on The Devil’s whore who will be facing The Stray.”

From her vantage point above, I spy Talia’s shoulders stiffen as she spins around.

My gaze locks with hers. I see her shock. It ripples over her lovely face before she shuts it down. Honing in on her, I blot out the rest of the watching crowd.

Faking a smile, I give her a wink.

My rival shuffles into view. Small, skinny with mousey chestnut hair. The girl looks a few years younger than me. She’s nervous. I read it in the way her glance bounces around. The perspiration across her skin. Whoever she is, she isn’t a fighter, that’s clear. Some waif they’ve dragged off the streets. More than likely homeless from the state of her grubby jeans and ripped t-shirt.

An innocent. Pity twirls in my chest.

I’ve never broken this rule before. Never taken the life of someone who didn’t deserve it. Staring into her dirty face, I realise I’m at a crossway. If I do this there will be no going back.

Doing this will be a heavy price to my soul. True damnation.

Nathan. An image of my brother’s features floats through my head. Blue eyes lit with life. His mop of pale blonde hair.

The softness within me dies quickly. No mercy. I can’t afford to waver from this. It doesn’t matter who she is. She’s an objective I need to overcome.

To our right, the bell sounds, announcing the match to begin.

Slowly, we circle each other.

Every instinct tells me she’s easy prey, but I know I still have to be cautious. In my job things can be deceiving.

I track her every movement.

Licking her lips, she continues to edge around the rim. Just when I think this is going to be nothing but a long arse chase she attacks. Hollering like a banshee, she comes at me. It’s sloppy. Uncoordinated. From her dilated pupils, she’s as high as a kite on the cocaine.

Fist connecting with her nose, I send her staggering back. Blood streaming from her nostrils, pain blooms over her youthful features. She’s not used to it. Unable to process the shock as quickly as a seasoned fighter.

Taking advantage, I grab her by the back of the neck. It doesn’t take much to draw her into a head lock. Like the prey she is, instead of struggling, she freezes. The pulse beating frantically in her neck rivets my attention. Tremors rack her slight frame.

Brown eyes stare up at me pleadingly. Begging to be saved. To spare her life.

But I’m not here to save her. I’m here for my brother alone. Gaze boring into hers, I let her see the coldness behind mine. The darkness I harbour. Hopelessness dims her hazel brown irises as realization seeps in. Tightening the choke hold, I do the merciful thing. One clean twist and snap, she goes limp, neck broken.

Booing booms beyond the cage. The throng show their displeasure at a dissatisfying match.

Ignoring them, I let the corpse drop to the floor. I feel no satisfaction. No remorse. Only resolve to see this through to the end.

I watch as two men take the girl by the feet and drag her body out of the ring. Something feels lodged in my throat as I unwittingly peek at the corpse’s glassy vacant stare. My insides are an instant jumble. Trying to clear it, I realise I’ve been given a new challenger.

A male this time.

Tall and slender, he moves with an unnatural grace that sets my instincts on alert. He’s not human. With pale skin and striking blue eyes it could make him just about anything.

Then he smiles, giving me a hint of pointy teeth.

A fucking vampire.

I keep my expression unreadable. No fear. This must be Talia’s doing. Tension coils through my muscles.

His eyes flick from me to the crowd. He thinks this is going to be easy. That I am a weak link in the food chain. I can see it in the way he smirks. Expects it to be over in a bloody flash.

He launches with no warning, all fangs and claws. It’s not hard to see from his lack of vampiric speed that he’s been starved. More vicious with bloodlust, it clouds his judgement.

Instead of backing away, I plant my feet, falling into a fighting stance. Dodging his first jab fluidly, I retaliate with a right hook that sends him staggering back.

Surprise flashes over his face. He’s quick to recover.

Hissing, he charges with a burst of speed I haven’t anticipated.

In a blur he’s on me. Fangs sink into the flesh of my shoulder, ripping through the sweatshirt. Agony screams through the nerves there, making me shriek. Bringing my knee up, I drive in into his balls.

Claws rake savagely through the material protecting my side as another gouge’s through my cheek.

The blow sends me tumbling. Hitting the mat, I breathe through the pain. Something wet spills down, dripping from my chin. I know it’s blood. My blood.

The gash he’s left is pulsating, making my stomach churn. He narrowly missed the eye.

The crowd roars its approval.

“Get up, Mavi. I’ve got good money on you. Don’t fuck this up now.” Raziel grouses from behind the metal mesh. “Kill him.”

His tone makes my teeth clench. Adrenaline pumping through me it dulls the wound.

Rolling to the left, I’m just in time to avoid a foot to the spine.

As the vamp comes at me again, I bring up my leg with a heel kick to the face. It sends him down.

Scrambling up, I catapult onto his back, ploughing fists into the side of his head.

He dared to make me bleed. Now I’m going to return the favour.

With quick deft movements, I free the hidden knife from the compartment at my hip.

Ramming it into his neck with a vicious grin, I twist it as I go.

He might be faster and stronger, but he slices easily, just like the rest of us.

Blood flows over my fingers.

The vampire’s scream gives a thrill of pleasure.

Rotating it, I excavate as deep as I can go.

I make the mistake of slanting a look at the VIP area. Mistress Talia has her back to the entertainment. She’s riding the cock of a male she’s straddling in a chair. From her enthusiastic movements, she’s really enjoying herself. As she shifts slightly to her left, my delight at overcoming my foe grows cold.

Nathan.

Eyes rolled back in his head in ecstasy, my brother’s cheeks are flushed from sexual exertion. She’s fucking him. Draining his life-force as he sits helplessly. Rage erupts, destroying my

concentration.

A hand fists my hair. Slamming me forward with his vampiric strength, I find myself airborne.

Solid metal links meet my back. Pain explodes from spine to shoulders. The blade skids away out of reach. Landing on the mat my addled brain identifies the jubilant cries from beyond the fence.

Eyes locked on me with evil menace, the vampire bares his fangs.

He’s pissed and done playing. I recognize a predator getting ready to make a kill.

There’s a stillness that settles over his features. An emptiness that makes a home in his blue eyes.

With a snarl, he soccer punches me in the stomach. The thud echoing around the room.

Raising my hands, I shield my face.

Insides twisting excruciatingly, I feel something crack. The fucker is trying to break my ribs. Make it easier to rip out my throat if I don’t struggle so much.

Primordial and blistering like volcanic lava, my fury seethes through me. Red buzzes before my eyes.

I want to see him burn.

My darker side rising, it sings through my veins. I embrace it.

Chin coming up, I grab the foot as it swings for another kick. Wrenching it sideways, I don’t stop until I hear it snap.

For a split second everything slows down. Senses heightening, I’m aware of every fucking detail around me as I’m about to make a kill.

Power pulses through every fibre of my being. Righteous, wrathful. White light sizzles in my palms. The same energy I experienced during the battle in Hell.

Lurching up, I go for his face. Clutching his slender cheeks, I funnel it through my touch.

His ensuing scream is hair-raising.

In desperation, he tries to back pedal away, but I cling like a leech, chasing him down as he trips. Ignoring the pain crashing through me, I straddle his hips.

Thrashing beneath me, his fingernails claw at my wrists.

Wreak havoc. It’s an insidious whisper in my head. Headier than any man-made drug, it sends me soaring on a high that I know I might never recover from.

As the vampire goes limp, I release my hold.

His face is gone. A mass of bloodied tissue remains. It’s hideous, but I don’t look away from what I’ve done.

Agilely, I regain my feet. Everything is sharper, brighter. Tipping my head to the side, I listen to the beat of more than a dozen frightened hearts pumping to a rhythm of fear. It’s music to my ears. A delicious melody.

Mind no longer messy and cluttered, I let the natural, darker impulses guide me.

Gate swinging open, two men hurry to intercept. Both wield swords. From the way they handle them confidently they know how to use them.

They close in from either side.

I observe them through the eyes of a hunter.

Slashing for me, I dodge the first assailant. Faster than I have ever been before, I imprison his wrist before he can bring the blade back. With a gratifying snap, the bones break.

He barely has time to scream before his throat is severed by his own blade.

Its weight is welcome in my blood-stained hand.

Metal clashes as I defend a blow from his companion.

Beyond the cage, the audience continues observing, thrilled they are finally receiving a battle they believe they deserve.

I despatch him quickly. Efficiently. He never feels the collision with the floor.

Bending, I retrieve the second sword.

With lethal calmness, I stalk free of the ring.

Terror stricken screams erupt. I feel nothing as I hack down those in my path. An avenging angel hell bent on an exquisite slaughter. Swinging the weapons, I slash at limbs and torsos.

I survey the carnage with cool detachment. No one is safe. I kill without discrimination or compassion.

Across the room of fleeing forms, I catch sight of Raziel.

Massive, black feathery wings unfurled, I see hellfire dancing in his eyes. Can taste his pleasure at such abandonment and destruction.

It urges me on. Feeds the need to obliterate every last one of them who has stood watching. I fall flawlessly into the violence. An artist at work playing towards a crescendo of sublime devastation.

It takes my breath away how easily it comes. How readily I accept it.

The succubus bitch is my goal. I’m going to bring her down even if it’s the last thing I do.

Three sumo like bouncer’s barrel towards me. Muscles bulging, they charge with a roar.

Listening to the chorus of death thickening the air, I find an elegant choreography to the sound. Limbs in constant movement, they flow gracefully. A dance of agony and passion. Blades biting hungrily through tender flesh, I gut the first one.

Pirouetting clear, the second falls just a swiftly.

Poised for the third, I find myself floating on a sea of serenity.

Meaty fists flying, he takes a jab for my face.

Jerking back, I bare teeth, thrusting a sword through his broad chest. Even before he hits his knees, expression stunned, he’s forgotten in my wake.

Flicking my gaze up, I savour Talia’s look of fear. The way her red eyes bulge as she cowers back. I’m coming for the bitch. What I have planned for her is far from anything she can dream of. I won’t be sated until she’s broken.

Nathan is still slumped in the chair. Blonde head lulled to the side, he’s unconscious. Seeing him half undressed with his placid cock hanging out douses my anger, turning it into concern. The symphony I’ve been following in my head grows quiet as sanity returns.

“This is not possible.” Talia squeaks from beside Nathan’s seat. “You’re nothing but a human.”

She’s never been more wrong. Not that I'm going to correct her. In silence, I move closer, my intent burning in my gaze.

“So, you’re the Devil’s new whore. The one to replace me. Your reputation precedes you.”

Tilting my head, I check out the owner of the voice who’s standing two paces to their right. White hair hanging loosely around slim shoulders, the female is just as beautiful as the other succubus. Her big breasted figure is shapely in a rudy coloured dress that matches her demonic eyes.

This must be Trukun, Talia’s sister. The second commander stupid enough to go against the Devil himself.

“Actually, I’ve been promoted to his executioner.” I tell them with a tight meaningful look, not letting the jab of jealousy get to me. This bitch will soon be dead. Dust beneath my feet. It shouldn’t matter to me who he was fucking before. He’s not my boyfriend or my lover.

Fisting Nathan’s locks in one hand, Talia exposes his throat to her deadly talons. “Let me kill him, sister. Make an example out of him.”

Everything inside me tenses. Frozen in a second, I’m ready to pounce, and bring her end. Clutching the handles of the swords, I prepare to send them flying.

“A fierce little thing, aren’t you, but I know your weakness.” Trailing a finger up Nathan’s cheek in a caress, Trukun’s evil grin doesn’t mirror the affection of the gesture.

“Give me my brother.” I say it more calmly than I feel. All I want is him safe. Away from the danger he’s been dragged into. Guilt lays heavy in my stomach.

“If you want him you’ll have to give me something in exchange.”

“What do you want?”

Another bargain. Yet this time I know it’s going to be something more than a favour or my soul.

Trukun’s gaze blazes with triumph. “The oracle Cassandra. Give her to me and you’ll have your sibling in exchange. If you don’t comply then we will drain him of his life force and present you with his husk the next time we meet. Use this to summon us when you have her. Wait too long and there won’t be much left of him to save, so don’t waste our time, or yours.” Out of nowhere something round appears in her hand.

When she tosses it to me, I catch it. A medallion. Round and worn, the metal, with it’s weird symbols, is warm in my hand.

A hulking male figure emerges from the shadows. Wrapping his muscular arms around them they vanish with Nate before I have time to react.