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Authors: deba schrott

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My breath whooshed out. I’d hoped he wouldn’t bring up this tired old argument. Why couldn’t he accept the fact that I
had
to fulfill my duties, same as our mother? Furies were meant to protect those unable to protect themselves from the’ arcane things that went bump in the night. Even at the risk of our own lives. “David, please—”

Stalking to the oversized bay window, he stared out at the waves crashing against the shoreline. Just as our father had done so many times during my childhood, waiting for our mother to return home from whatever mission she’d been sent on, until the night she went out and never returned...

“Promise me one thing.” His voice sounded as ancient as he’d joked about being just moments before.

“Make sure what happened to Vanessa and Mom doesn’t happen to Con.”

The fact that Con could develop Fury abilities later in life—just as I had—was something I knew must weigh on his mind constantly. His request shattered my heart into a hundred more pieces. But I couldn’t

—wouldn’t—let him see that. “She’ll be safe. I promise.” The words tasted empty. Too much like the vow our mother made our father that final night.

“Go. Just go.”

Once again, I fled the room I’d come to hate without saying another word.

CHAPTER FIVE

SCOTT LEFT IT ALONE UNTIL WE REACHED THE
local high school. “That went better than I expected.”

I focused on the ball field several hundred feet in the distance. “What, because Jessica didn’t break out a shotgun?”

This time he didn’t resist the impulse to touch me. I nearly closed my eyes and purred when he stroked a hand along my hair Riss you can’t
take it
personally She s hurting.”

“And I’m
not?”
I wanted the words back the instant I said them. “There they are. Let’s go.”

He made several more attempts to talk, but I ignored each one. What kind of man actually tried to talk about touchy-feely shit when women weren’t strong-arming them into it, anyway?

The kind you fell in love with,
my conscience whispered.

Who the hell asked
you?

We pulled up alongside the field before I could continue the pointless argument with myself. I jogged the last few steps to the dugout ahead of him, trying to pick out the coach from the female bodies zipping this way and that. It wasn’t easy. Finally,, I approached the sixteen-year-old holding a clipboard, figuring she would know. She squinted cornflower eyes against rays of fading sunlight. “I’m Coach Jennings. Can I help you?” Those eyes widened when she picked’ out my red leather uniform and low-heeled boots, added them to the snake tats, and came up with the obvious assumption. “Has something happened to one of my girls?” Gods, I was getting old. Apparently she only
looked
sixteen. She had to be in her twenties at least to be coaching high schoolers.

“That’s what I’m here to prevent.” Normally I would have flashed my badge to speed the process along, but that asshole Zalawski had confiscated it. I nodded toward the field.

“Some dangerous people are planning to use my niece, Con Holloway, against me. Her parents sent me here to get her to safety.”

She tapped pen against clipboard, then barked, “Con! Front and center!”

My heart picked up speed as one of the girls tossed a ball to another and jogged toward us. Gorgeous cheekbones and deeply tanned complexion came from her mother, but the honey-blond hair and brilliant blue eyes were all David’s—and mine. I’d only seen her in pictures the past . two years and couldn’t believe how much she’d grown. She had to be almost sixteen now—the age where she’d start exhibiting a Fury’s abilities, if she’d inherited any. I both hoped for and prayed against that. Con’s eyes zeroed in on me immediately, and she let out a squeal. “Aunt Riss! You’re back!”

Her body slammed into mine and she nearly cracked my ribs in a bear hug. I breathed in the opposing scents of fruit and sweat, hugging her back more gently. I really
could
crack ribs.

“I knew you weren’t dead!”,.

My hands tightened around her. “Dead?”

“Yeah, Mom said you were as dead to us as. . .“ Her voice faltered, but we both knew what she’d been about to say.

Coach Jennings intruded on our reunion. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry you’re not who you claim.”

Cori stepped back, keeping an arm around my waist. “Of course she’s who she says she is. My Aunt Riss, the Fury. Chief Magical Investigator of Boston.” She rolled her eyes. “I knew Mom was being figurative about the whole death thing. Your picture’s plastered across the
Herald
every other month.”

Goose bumps prickled as’ Nemesis and Nike stirred beneath my skin, and I stiffened. Something was wrong. “Scott?”

“They’re here,” he murmured, body alert but eyes on me.

“Who’s here?” Cori peered around us. “Mom and Dad?”

“Cori, sweetie, you’re going to have to trust me. Can you do that?”

She shot me a look that was pure teenager, one that clearly suggested I was an idiot.

“Okay, grab my hand and don’t let go, no matter what happens. We’ve got to get away from your teammates right now. Trouble’s coming.”

Excitement glinted in her eyes. “Got it.” She tossed her glove to Jennings, then grabbed my hand with both of her own
.
“I won’t let you down, Aunt Riss.”

Gods send I didn’t let
her
down in the moments to come.

“Ready, Scott?”

He nodded, spun, and took off running at the same time I tapped into the magical energy beneath my feet. I thrust it into Con’s body all at once. No time for finesse.

Her eyes widened. “What
is
that?”

“Just stay with me!”

I burst into speed, jerking Con along. Thanks to the magic pouring into her, she kept up easily. Fence posts blurred past us as we ran.

“Whoa, look how fast we’re—” ~he cut herself off, hands clutching me more tightly as she noticed the three men facing off against Scott on the far side of the field. “Aunt Riss?”

“Just hold on to me, baby, and don’t look at them.” I pointed toward Scott’s souped-up sports car a hundred feet away. “That’s our getaway car. If something bad happens to Scott and me, you get in that car, drive
straight
to the Belly, and call your parents on the way. They’ll send someone to meet you.”

“But I don’t have my license ye—”

“No
huts.
Your parents will need your help if something happens to me.”

Her lips tightened mutinously, but she fell silent for the moment. Good enough. It’d have to be. Things weren’t going as well for Scott as they should have gone.

I faltered a step when I saw that. Granted, Scott was one against three, but that shouldn’t have mattered.

Not for a Warhound.

Scott took a bad hit in one leg, but kept on swinging his fists—wait, why was he using his fists when he
never
‘went anywhere unarmed—oh shit.. . his opponents had actually managed to disarm him, not once but five times, judging by the glints of ‘metal on the ground. He was able to knock. one of the men to the ground while the other two converged on him. They moved with inhuman speed, ducking his lightning-quick attempts to hit them with equal swiftness. Something about that just wasn’t right. Two more kicks’

slammed into Scott’s abdomen, and his roar of pain echoed across the field. The sound cut to my heart and sent fear skittering through trig veins,

“What the hell?” I muttered,

How could three mortals be kicking Scott’s ass? They
had’
to’ be mortal. I would have sensed otherwise in, the morgue,

“Aunt Riss?”

But they obviously
weren’t
mortal, senses be damned. though nothing a Fury and ‘Warhound combined couldn’t handle. I just had to get to them first,

‘Cori, get in the car. Now.”

“But—”

“Now!”
I grabbed her. by the waist and tossed her over the chain-link fence separating us from the car, making sure, magic cushioned her lauding. “Start the car!”

She flailed, caught her balance, and threw a mutinous look over her shoulder, but obeyed, running toward the car as fast as she could. My pulse slowed slightly

I shifted, beating newly formed wings and using them to half jump, half fly the fifty feet separating me from the fight. The ground rose up more quickly than expected. I lost my footing, stumbling halfway to the earth before regaining my balance, Damned lucky thing, too, because a leg zoomed past, where my head had just been.

Growling, I rushed at the man who’d kicked at me, reaching for his leg to snap it, At least, that had been the plain. But neither he nor his leg were where lit expected.

I gaped, twisting to find he’d somehow managed to get halfway behind me. “What
are
you?” Stupid question— like he was going. to tell me. Nemesis and Nike responded to my call, bursting from lifeless tattoos to larger-than-life reality; I grabbed them both and tossed them straight, toward pay opponent’s unprotected neck.

I turned to the man now grappling with Scott hand-to-hand. That just left the one on the groun—

Pain exploded in my knee. I clutched it as I dropped and the world faded to black. I came dangerously close to passing out, but Nemesis and Nike sent tendrils of magic my way, just enough ‘so that I was able to force back the pain and open my eyes.

The third goon, the one I assumed had been out cold, turned, his attention to Scott. He brandished a heavy aluminum bat, answering the question of what I’d been socked with. Good gods, that had,
hurt.

These sons of bitches were far stronger than they had any right to be, And that just pissed me off. No time to waste for healing, Not if I wanted to keep Scott’s mangy but alive~ I sucked in magical energy wildly, using, it to cut the rest of my body off front the agony pulsing inside my knee, g
onna pay for that
later,
Gritting my teeth, I leapt on the groons back.

Rage pounded, anti I let it, channeling its all-fired furor and using It to focus. I teetered on
the edge of the abyss separating Fury from Harpy, the biggest danger in allowing Rage to flow unchecked, But my current goal was more than enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.

Talons sprouted from my hands to match the, half-furled wings along, my back. I wrapped powerful legs around the goon’s waist, raking claws up and down his arms. He screeched, an inhuman sound in the dying light he day, and their he did just what I wanted him to: focused on me, rather than the still-struggling Scott.

“That’s it, asshole. You wanna play? I’m more than willing?1

He spoke, the first time one of them had uttered a word during the entire attack. “Let’s see just how willing you can become, Fury.”

His hands twisted, coming to rest on my wrists and squeezing. At first I thought he meant to break them, but he merely wanted to ensure a solid grip. I snarled, trying to shake him off, but his strength was equal to my own. My heart skittered. I’d never faced another arcane as strong as me. Bad, bad, bad.

It got worse. A warm haze radiated outward from the man’s hands, spreading along my arms and tickling my neck. I shivered, at first repulsed, but then the warmth wrapped me from head to toe, and I was lost.

My legs loosened and dropped to the ground. He turned, somehow managing to maintain his grip, and smiled, his entire face lighting up in the most glorious expression I’d ever seen. His face flickered, something that should have seemed odd but barely managed to penetrate my current fog. Great gods, how could I have had the audacity to attack this amazing specimen of arcane perfection? He was gorgeous, he was splendid, he was everything amazing and right in the world and I wanted only to please hi—

What the hell? I’ve never thought that about
anyone.
Not even Scott!

“You want to please me, don’t you?”

His smirk reminded me of Tony Zalawski, and that was just the impetus I needed to regain sanity. I kept my gaze deliberately vacant, smiling like an idiot and purring my reply. “Oh, yes. Just tell me what to do.”

He aimed my body in Scott’s direction. “Kill your partner and then return to me. That will please me greatly.”

Like hell 1 will.
Aloud, I murmured, “As you wish,” visions of
The Princess Bride
running through my head. His hands fell away, but the haze continued fluttering over my skin. Fortunately I hadn’t succumbed completely, or Scott would be a dead man.

I covered the distance to Scott in ground-eating strides, calling out, “Duck!” at the very last instant. He immediately dropped. I flapped my wings and jumped, floating over his body and smacking straight into his opponent. The man’s open-mouthed
0
of surprise was almost enough to make me smile.

No more Ms. Nice Fury. I made my first a killing blow, jabbing talons back and forth with blinding speed, hitting the man’s windpipe directly. A sickening crunch hit my ears, but I kept my mind on the task at hand: putting these assholes down for the count.

The goon who’d mesmerized me screamed as his dying comrade fell to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head and hissing noises emerging from his ruined throat for several seconds, until he fell silent and his limbs stopped thrashing. Scott jumped to his feet, spinning to deal with the screamer, but he’d already taken off across the field. My body tensed with worry until I realized he was heading away from Con, toward a dark-colored sedan with engine still running.

I was surprised to see him abandoning his comrades, both living and dead, and then realized there was only the dead. Nemesis and Nike radiated smugness when I bent down to retrieve them from the puncture-ridden corpse on

the ground. Their venom was fatal to any being, mortal
or
arcane, in large enough doses, and fang marks riddled the man’s visible skin like Swiss cheese. My little lovelies didn’t mess around.

Scott grunted behind me, and I whirled. He had hands pressed to each side, trying to stanch the blood flowing

from open wounds. I shifted to partial Fury form so I could

properly support his

weight without Nemesis and Nike getting bitchy. Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed to cling to me more than was strictly necessary. That, or wishful thinking. We hobbled toward the nearest opening in the fence surrounding the softball field and headed

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