Stoneheart isn’t a clan name. As far as Ben’s research could tell, he’s never been in a clan. A lone gargoyle is unusual, but after a few years cultivating his people and a few territory gains moderate enough to keep the Council happy, he’s a power in his own right. His coldly ambitious actions earned him the name The Devil by those who wish to gossip about him.
He doesn’t need more territory, but what he’d get from his mating to Stella would have been hard to say no to.
“And my bride is here, so I should be also.” He offers his hand to Stella to help her out of the car.
I didn’t want to bring the witch, but she couldn’t be persuaded to stay back at the house. It’s one thing to orchestrate the downfall of your enemies, but witnessing it is another. Her skin is pale, and she’s stiff around her intended mate, but there’s no panic in her eyes. She knows what she’s agreed to.
Stoneheart narrows his eyes at my second-in-command, and Ben wipes the glare from his face. I tighten my jaw in foreboding. I had not anticipated Ben’s reaction to this plan.
The magic from the nearby fae gate buzzes over my skin. Ancient and wild in a way that modern magic isn’t. It’s not an uncomfortable thing, but not for the first time, I consider how much trouble we’d save if this gate didn’t exist.
“Be sure to be out of the blast range. This may prove to be quite messy,” I instruct my people. Stoneheart looks amused but keeps casting glances to where Ben stiffly stands beside Stella. Ready to evacuate her and Jensen at a moment’s notice.
I direct the guards to leave the fae gate and take their place beside the other witnesses. No need to put them at risk.
The rumble of vehicles coming down the dirt road has us turning.
Three SUVs pull up on the other side of the clearing. Men pour out of each of the vehicles, shifters and a few magic users that must be mercenaries.
It’s a paltry show of force.
I almost pity Lorenzo, but he cast himself as my enemy. I will not spare him just because he is overconfident.
Lorenzo’s upper circle is all here, his brother and son flanking him in their business suits. They project an air of triumph. One that I’ll enjoy devouring.
The image of power is disrupted by a petulant tone.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Leo asks, glaring at Stella. Stoneheart takes a step toward her, returning the look her brother is leveling on her. Lorenzo makes a sound of dismissal, and Leo ducks his head.
“Doesn’t matter, she’s no one,” Lorenzo says to us as much as to his son.
Stella’s lips thin, but satisfaction lights in her eyes. She nods at me. She doesn’t regret facing the man who destroyed her mother. Not when she knows how this will end.
“Where is my mate?” I ask, playing the situation out.
“She’s back at our compound,” Lorenzo says. I’m impressed by how good of a liar he is. “We’ll return her after you pay up on your end of the deal.”
“That wasn’t what we agreed on,” I say.
He shrugs like he hasn’t a care in the world. This man must love to gamble.
“It’s what works for us. If anything happens to us, she’ll pay the price.” He keeps his tone amiable as if he hadn’t just threatened to harm my mate. These shifters have truly gotten more confident than is safe for this world.
“But we do have a gift of… goodwill to smooth over her absence.” A flare of cruelty has Lorenzo’s lip curling. He makes a gesture, and one of his lackeys retrieves a plastic bag from a vehicle, pulling out a dark, wet shape and throwing it into the space between us.
Stella gasps in recognition and averts her eyes as the head of an imp rolls to a stop some yards away from us, the trail of blood splotchy and already drying.
I spare a moment of dismay at the death of a person Katarina considered her mentor even as a colder portion of me is relieved that his presence is no longer a threat to her.
“Why kill him?” I ask. They would never destroy an asset just for “goodwill.”
Lorenzo shrugs, abandoning the farce. “We have no need for an in-debt, troublesome imp with no sense of loyalty. Here is your revenge against the one who betrayed your mate.”
I struggle not to scoff at his words. As if presenting me the head of one creature is going to stop me from taking my due from Lorenzo.
“He must have been too nosy,” Ben mutters. “They must be hiding something.”
That tracks, but it won’t save them.
“You are very confident that I’m going to just hand over the ownership of the fae gate to you,” I say.
Lorenzo laughs, but it sounds shrill. “We have powerful allies that want this gate. Even if you kill us and ensure the death of your mate, they will keep coming for it.”
There’s truth in that accusation. The gate will always be a target for those who want it, while being too dangerous to entrust to anyone else.
The air takes on my deadly intention, and the shifters in the clearing start to cast glances at each other, sweating.
“You may have allies who have pushed you to this point, but did you really think I wouldn’t find out that you don’t have my mate?” I ask.
There’s a flash of alarm in Lorenzo’s eyes.
“Get the dragon,” Lorenzo calls out to his men. “We need him for the gate magic. Kill everyone else.”
I laugh, the shackles of my cool demeanor falling. I wouldn’t have minded dealing with the trouble of striking first, but that Lorenzo has taken that burden is a gift.
I grip the wild, vengeful part of my soul, and the transformation rips through my body. The pain that has become commonplace since I’d first separated from my beast is no more than a pleasant warmth as I accept what I have become. What I’ve always been.
The world shrinks before me as my height grows. Shiny scales buffer against bullets and fire spells from the scurrying bugs that are Lorenzo’s people.
I whip my tail around, careful of the people I brought behind me, and flatten Lorenzo’s men. They go flying, smacking against the SUVs and each other. A few have shifted into lions either on purpose or out of fear, and once their animals see that they are outclassed, flee into the woods. The magic users fare much worse with some spells going haywire in the confusion and impacting teammates with magic fire.
Fools. Attempting to use fire against a dragon.
My throat heats in satisfaction as the spikes on my tail sink into an enemy or two. The sound of their screams causing a sick sense of joy, but I pull my instincts in enough to keep present.
These men are only fodder for the real perpetrator. The risk to Katarina.
I pick out Lorenzo easily, plucking him from where he’s attempting to climb into an SUV to flee the hell he’s called down on his own people, pushing his son out of his way to escape. His screams and begging when my talons grasp him are a sweet song to my ears.
Mercy is a weak and modern concept in this moment when Lorenzo’s sobs are the whistling woodwinds and the crunch of bones under my teeth the percussive conclusion to this saga of frustration. By the end of Lorenzo Leonid’s existence, my bloodlust is barely quenched.
Once their leader falls, the ants scatter. One SUV manages to reverse away, driving erratically. I release my fire on the rest of our enemies to keep any more from escaping my wrath. Death by dragon fire is more humane than what I wish for any who stand against me, but it is the quickest.