“Are you okay?” she yelled down, trying not to flinch when she felt the freshly healed wounds on her hands reopen in a couple of places.
“Fantastic. I think I’ll have a picnic while I’m down here,” he called back with his normal dryness.
Oh yes, he was fine.
Evie nodded and turned to climb the rest of the way up. When she reached the top, her smile disappeared as the putrid smell of rotting flesh permeated the air.
It was a massacre.
Bodies were strewn about, corpses rotting down to the bone. The few still alive were screaming as the skin dripped from their flesh. Evie forced herself to look, begging one of the faces not to be Blade or… Fine, she would prefer one of them not be Rebecka Erring.
“It’s the male,” The Villain said at her shoulder, looking to the sky with a quiet rage, eyes narrowing when something large clattered to the ground. He stalked over toward the fallen silver item. It was the guvre’s ankle cuff, the clean lines of the break in the chain a clear indicator it had been cut free rather than broken. “Someone’s released him.”
“The person who got us here.” Evie sighed.
“It was a setup.” The Villain sneered.
But there was no time to speculate who had done it when first they had a creature to catch. “Why isn’t the male staying with the female?” Evie asked, seeking cover under a giant fallen tree that was lying at an angle, one end stuck in the branches of another tree.
Her boss quickly joined her. “The females are smarter, more strategic. The males often work off pure instinct. Right now, all he knows is that he’s been caged. Things will be even worse if his mate is still caged.” He seemed to think better of that statement because he added, “Worse is relative. Two guvres are also as bad as one male overcome with rage.”
“So destruction is his solution?” Evie rolled her eyes, pushing her loosened hair out of her face. “Men,” she scoffed.
“Yes, we can discuss the obvious weaknesses of my sex later.” The Villain’s eyes glittered. His black shirt was ripped at the shoulder, giving him a roguish dishevelment that made Evie’s stomach flutter.
At an obviously horribly inconvenient time.
“Gushiken!” he yelled with such deep command, Evie felt her back straighten at attention, her head nearly bumping the tree trunk they were hiding under.
Blade appeared out of the darkness and scrambled under the tree with them, blood running down his arm, panic in his amber eyes. “Hello, boss. When did you get here?” he asked, his casual tone a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them.
“Could you perhaps dispense with the small talk? Any ideas on how to recapture him?”
“How much help was I the first time?” Blade asked bluntly.
Another screech and flurry of screams caused them all to jump. “None,” The Villain growled.
“Then I believe you have your answer, sir.” The cocky ease with which Blade composed himself wavered when his gaze flashed to a movement Evie caught out of the corner of her eye.
“I told you to stay hidden!” Blade said, an unusual steel to his voice.
Rebecka Erring appeared beside Evie under the tree, startling her so quickly, it knocked her back into her boss’s chest. “My gods, make a sound!” Evie held her hand to her chest, waiting for her heart rate to slow and then quickly realizing it wouldn’t while the guvre hovered dangerously above them.
“I wasn’t any safer behind the trees where you left me,” Becky muttered, nodding politely at The Villain and then turning to glare at Blade.
But The Villain didn’t notice as his gaze darted around the screaming party guests rushing past. “My sister. My sister was here. Before he attacked.” And then he took off running—leaving the shelter of their hiding spot.
“Sir!” Evie screamed, moving to follow, but she was jerked back down by Becky’s rough grip on her shoulders.
“Sit down, you fool. He doesn’t need to worry about you killing yourself while he looks for her. Just stay here and don’t get in the way.”
The words burned like the guvre’s breath against bare flesh, but Evie knew they were true. Unless she could find a way to make herself a resource, she would quickly become a nuisance. Perhaps she already was one.
She couldn’t be that self-deprecating now. When she finally made it home later, hopefully in one piece, she’d check on Lyssa, feeling guilty for leaving her alone once more, then flop nearly lifeless into bed. Then and only then would she allow herself to delve into all the things her brain liked to tell her she did wrong or poorly.