Before this, she’d seen only a man… granted, a super sexy, dangerous man. But for the first time she was truly witnessing a warrior in action. The man she loved, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, could kick some serious ass.
He was a thing of beauty, a smooth, confident fighter who knew exactly where and how to strike each of his enemies. All of the Horsemen were, actually. She watched in awe and not a small amount of horror as all around her the Horsemen, the stranger, and Kynan and Arik battled the demons and Guardians, and she could only pray that no one had breached the barn to hurt her animals.
Time seemed to slow, becoming a spinning vortex of screams, growls, and blood. Eventually, Reseph kneeled in front of her, his expression concerned and serious.
“It’s over. Everything’s okay.”
“But…” Frowning, she looked around.
With the exception of the stranger, who was twisting a demon’s neck so hard she heard a crack, nothing was moving in the clearing. Near the barn, Limos, Ares, and Thanatos had rounded up the surviving Guardians and were holding them at swordpoint. Arik and Kynan were triaging the human survivors and dispatching wounded demons.
The stranger jogged over, but when he reached for Jillian, Reseph grabbed him. “Who the fuck are you?”
He threw the man against the side of the house, and when the man struck back, lunging for Reseph, Jillian experienced an odd, panicky sensation.
She shoved her hand between the two males, her palm making a metallic clang against Reseph’s breastplate. “Reseph, stop!”
“Why?”
The stranger, panting and bleeding, stared at Jillian as if he knew her, which only confused her more. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Who are you?”
He fell to his knees and bowed his head. “Permission?”
Jillian blinked. “What?”
“Permission.” The guy flinched as though expecting to be struck. “To speak.”
Baffled, she glanced at Reseph, who shrugged. “Um… okay. You have permission to speak. Who are you?”
“I have no name,” he said gruffly. “You must give me one.”
“Ah, fuck,” Reseph breathed. “He’s a slave.”
“A slave?” Surely not, but Reseph didn’t look like he was kidding. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. And apparently, he thinks you’re his master.” Reseph grabbed the man’s jaw and lifted his face, but the slave’s eyes remained downcast. “Why are you here? Why do you think Jillian is your master?”
The man looked at Jillian for guidance, just a flicker of a glance that pleaded for an okay to talk, and this was just… sick. “Yes, you can speak. You don’t need to ask permission again. You can always speak.”
For some reason, her reply seemed to pain him. “My bond was transferred.”
“From who?” Reseph asked.
“Harvester.”
Reseph tensed and stepped back. “Did you agree to this, Jillian?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
Reseph rounded on the nameless guy. “How did this happen?”
“There would have been blood involved,” the man said.
Jillian swore under her breath. “When I agreed to giving you some of my mind, Harvester… she put a drop of blood over my heart.”
“Damn her,” Reseph breathed. “Why did she do it?”
Nameless guy bowed his head. “There’s only one reason she would have done it. She expects to die, and her death would have transferred my bond to her killer.”
Reseph scrubbed his hand over his face. “So she was trying to save you from a terrible fate by giving you to someone of her choosing.”
“Yes.”
Jillian’s stomach, already fragile from the bloody battle, lurched hard enough that she had to swallow bile. “This isn’t right. Slavery isn’t right. I can’t do this. I’ll set you free.”
“You can’t,” Reseph said. “A blood-bonded slave will die without the bond. If someone kills you, his bond will transfer. If you die of natural causes or in an accident, he’ll die shortly after.” He looked at the nameless guy, who was still eyeing the ground. “What species are you?”
“Warg.”
“Warg?” Jillian glanced at Reseph. “What’s that?”
“Humans call them werewolves,” Reseph said. “Warg, how old are you?”
“I don’t know.” The man lifted his face into the icy breeze like a dog with its head out the window. Pure ecstasy lit up his expression, and it was with reluctance that he returned his attention to Reseph. “Under fifty years, I’d guess.”
“Excellent.” Reseph slid Jillian a smile. “Werewolves live for hundreds of years. The bond will give you his lifespan.”
She sucked in a breath. “I—I don’t know what to say.” This entire morning had been one huge shock after another.
“Please, mistress, can I have a name?”
Uncomfortable lording over him like this, she went down on her heels so they’d be at eye level. “What did Harvester call you?”
“I was Whine.”
Jillian winced. What was wrong with people? “Did you have a name before you were a slave?”
“I was given up as an infant.” His sandy hair concealed his expression as he looked down at the ground. “I don’t remember my name, but I’m told it was Tracker.”
He’d been a slave since he was a baby? She wanted to hug him. Instead, she took a deep, bracing breath. “Then that’s your name.”
Kynan jogged over, gave Tracker a cursory glance, and turned to Reseph and Jillian. “We’ve got a hell of a mess on our hands here.” He made a broad gesture over the battle scene. “What was all of this about?”
Jillian came to her feet. “The Aegis was here to capture Reseph, but the demons… I don’t know.”
Ares joined them, his expression so thunderous Jillian actually took a step back. “Limos tried to open a gate and couldn’t. I tried, same result. Than discovered an invisible barrier around the farm.” A growl erupted from his chest. “We can’t get out of here. Fuck, Reseph… this was a trap.”
Thirty-nine
Alarm rang through Reseph like a bell had rung in his head. “A trap? Set by who?”
A sudden rumbling shook the ground like a magnitude-nine earthquake, felling trees at the edge of Jillian’s property. A malevolent undercurrent swirling in the air raised the hairs on the back of Reseph’s neck. He whirled in the direction of the source of the vibe, his lungs seizing at the sight of Lucifer standing a hundred yards away. Behind the fallen angel, rising up out of the soil, was an army of demons.
“Oh, that’s got to be bad,” Arik breathed.
“Aren’t you the king of understatements.” Reseph shouted to Than and Limos, who were still keeping the surviving Guardians corralled. “Release them! We might need the extra muscle.” Not that he expected them to be a huge help against Lucifer, but Reseph had a feeling they would need all the help they could get.
The Guardians scattered, taking defensive positions near the trucks, barn, and in the surrounding forest.
“Reseph?” Jillian tugged at his arm. Her hair was tangled and full of snow, blood streaked her skin and clothes, and although she had every reason to be afraid, she was alert and calm, a warrior even if she didn’t know it. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s get inside.” He ushered everyone into Jillian’s house, ignoring the amplified sound of Lucifer’s laughter.
Tracker was on Jillian’s heels, almost as close as Reseph was, and had this been any other situation and any other male, Reseph would have gutted the guy. But the warg was clearly invested in protecting her, and that would only be a good thing.