Chapter Eighteen

 

 

“Elle! Don’t!” Jed’s roar cut through the rage flooding into Elle’s mind and body. “Follow the plan!”

“Follow the plan? That’s your sage advice? Follow the fucking plan?” She snarled. “That…that…effin’ thing had Gage by the…”

“Follow. The. Plan.”

“And there’s a horde of giant magical wasps ready to kill us all? You gotta do better than that!”

But Jed was gone. The connection had been cut. Between the black magic streaming into the cave from all the holes they’d blown into the ice and the horrendous buzz of the swarm over her head, any mystical mental connection she had to anyone had been severed. It sucked, but Elle wasn’t surprised. Just all part and parcel of the shit sandwich that had become her life for the last year or so.

Gazing into Gage’s deep blue eyes, she didn’t need to be able to read his mind or hear his thoughts to know what he was thinking. It was all right there, chiseled into his handsomely murderous expression…

Kill the bastard and make it bloody…

“Oh yeah, that’s a given,” she mumbled under her breath.

Stepping forward, the tip of Gage’s blade pointed at the Psônen’s chest, Elle demanded, “Let him go. Let them all go. This is between you and I.”

Throwing back its head, a loud maniacal cackle filled the crumbling cavern as the embodiment of evil squawked, “Drop the blade. Get on your knees. Surrender, you useless bag of feathers, then I’ll consider your request.”

“Eat shit and die and I’ll consider yours,” Elle snarled, stopping midstride as the Purveyor of Death jerked Gage’s head backward with such force that the bones in his neck cracked like the scrunching of a plastic water bottle in a fist, the tip of its razor-sharp talon dug farther into the tender flesh over his carotid artery, and the cloud of deadly Tarantula Hawk Wasps dropped closer overhead.

Watching a single, deep-red rivulet of her mate’s life’s essence mar the deeply tanned skin of his shoulder Elle vibrated with the need to attack, the necessity to paint the glittering, frosty walls with the bitch’s black blood. She longed to watch the life drain from the Psônen’s beady eyes, needed it more than she’d ever needed anything.

It would happen. It was a foregone conclusion. But, she had to wait. Had to be sure they could destroy not only the feathered freak, but also the chaos it had created.  

But if I kill it now….

She forced the greedy thought from her mind. It was completely selfish. It would only serve her purposes, not the greater good which she was created to protect. Not to mention, it would most definitely get every single one of them killed… and well, that simply would not do.

“Reconsidering my offer, Little Chicken?” The crazed harpy wildly guffawed, pulling harder on the wad of Gage’s hair in its grasp, tearing more of his precious flesh as it dared to use the endearment that only Elle’s mother had ever uttered. 

Summoning all her restraint, forcing her feet to stay planted where they were, and the sword to remain in her hands, Elle slowly let out the breath she’d been holding, and nonchalantly dropped the blade to her side. Planting a shit-eating grin on her face, she scoffed, “Nope, just wondering what spices work best on grilled Snow Bird.” Adding insult to what she prayed was injury, Elle pushed the tip of Gage’s blade farther into the ice, leaned her hip on her hand where it covered the grip, and crossed one ankle over the other.

Glancing down at her nails as if she was considering a manicure and not ripping the feathers from her enemy, Elle grinned, “Because I’m going to cut you into little pieces, fry you on the sands of my Ancestors, and feed you to the Coyotes.”

No sooner had she spoken the words than the black, buzzing cloud of poisonous hornets dropped yet again. Terrifyingly fascinating, for a split-second Elle was mesmerized at how they moved as one unit, one horrific, deadly mass of huge, poisonous stingers and lethal wings.

“That-a-girl,” Jed’s voice finally sounded in her head, breaking the spell of the wasps. “Keep it talking. I’m almost there.”

“Sure, no problem. She, it, they – whatever pronoun is correct- is only trying to kill my mate, kill me, kill you, kill us all. Take your time.” Suddenly realizing that he’d spoken directly into her mind, she asked, “How did you do that? How did you cut through the nasty magic?”

“Later,” was the only reply she got and it made her want to throttle the Stallion just that much more.  

Yes, she was being a brat and no, she didn’t give a shit. Jed needed to hurry, or give her more answers, anything at all but what he was doing. She was so very close to losing control. There was little more than a breath of magic holding back her Rain Bird, holding back the devastation that only the Bringer of Life could wield.

Facts were facts, as the one true Star of the Morning, she could only kill what threatened the balance of the Universe and only to save the one the Universe had made for her. The threat was before her. The instincts bestowed upon the Rain Bird by the Great Creator had kicked in. The need was as plain as the nose on her face. It was as simple as that. Kill or be killed, and Elle Burntwing never had been and would not start being cannon fodder for some ancient piece of shit.

“Think of Gage…”

Too furious to reply to the Black Stallion’s needless reminder, she tuned back into the crazy rantings of the Psônen just in time to hear the wretched fowl judder, “I wonder…will you beg for your life like your sister did? Will you fight like your mother? Or, maybe you’ll offer yourself to save those you love like your father?”

Rage, red-hot, full of hate and fury, revulsion and pain, deep, dark images of the perfection of revenge, rose up within her like the fires of Hell. Vision blurring, blood pounding in her veins, and the screech of her Rain Bird demanding to be set free, made her grit her teeth so hard she heard the cracking of enamel, but still, she refused to give in to the bait even if it meant biting off her own tongue.

“What’s wrong, Little Chicken?” The fucking Psônen once again used the name that meant so very much to Elle, this time adding, “Waiting for your dead momma to fight your battle? Looking for the ashes of your dear old dad to come to the rescue?” Tossing Gage backward, snickering as his head crashed into the huge boulder of ice behind it and he slumped to the floor unconscious, the evil fowl continued, “You cannot win. You will not beat me.”

Finishing the transformation, now completely in the form of the huge, blue-feathered Psônen, it opened its massive, hooked beak, and in the voice of Elle’s mother tormented, “Come to me, Little Chicken. Let me gnaw on your bones.”

The tether she had on her wrath shattered, she yanked the blade from the ice, and bolted forward as the feathers of her Rain Bird burst through her skin. Launching herself over the gaping hole separating the tip of the sword from the heart of the Psônen, Elle let out a war cry that shook the rafters.

Missing the Purveyor of Death as it zigged and zagged to avoid Elle’s blade, the Rain Bird’s feet barely touched the ground before she was once again hurdling herself into the air. Blinded by rage, frenzied with fury, she swung the sword, slashing at the Psônen’s flight feathers while avoiding the Wasps hell bent on attack.

Jed’s voice roared through her mind, begging her to stop, but Elle was too far gone. Hacking and slicing, black blood and gore filled the air, covered her face, chest, and arms as the Purveyor of Death sunk to the ground, shielding itself with what was left of its wings.

Jumping atop the beast, Elle grabbed the grip of Gage’s sword with both hands, lifted it over her head, and with a thunderous clap of magic thrust the blade home. No sooner had the sharp metal tip smashed into the ice underneath the Psônen than Elle found herself falling forward before splashing down into a viscous puddle of melted ice and black viscera.

Pushing her goop-filled curls out of her face, she climbed to her feet and rushed to her mate. Falling to her knees at Gage’s side, she pulled his lifeless body onto her lap just as Jed landed at her side.

“Put him down,” the Stallion ordered. “The fight…”

A clap of thunder, a blinding bolt of lightning, and a blast of arctic air cut off whatever Jed was about to say. Pushing Gage back onto the floor, Elle had just gotten to her feet when the frenzied buzz of wasps filled the air and the screech of the Psônen shook the rafters.

“I’m back, Elle Burntwing. Back to send you to Hell.”