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  I turn my head at a noise about a hundred yards away that doesn’t fit the nightlife. The area in question is too dense to see into, but I figure the sound of ringing metal is a clue and the dynamic duo are near. From the corner of my eye, I catch King adjusting his leather straps. Before I object, he shifts.

  “You did that on purpose when I wasn’t looking,” I whisper. King doesn’t control his Beast form in the first hour or so after shifting, and it’s usually me that uses my Beast form if we need quick action with thoughts involved.

  His huge jaws unhinge and a garbled, “Shoot me,” comes out. I catch the angry grumble from deep in his throat that he’s trying to hide. Shadow Warriors, all but me, need to run off the Kedorine 5 in their bloodstream before they can do more than find an enemy and kill it. We call it K-5 for short, and it’s what gives us the ability to morph into King’s current form—a ten-foot monster from another planet that gives even the most stable adult nightmares. The K-5 causes irrational and dangerous behavior until the hormone spike settles. Due to my immunity to the side effects, I usually go in as Warrior and King stays in human form. At least he does when we don’t have time to run off the hormones. I mentally shrug. I won’t get a reasonable answer to why he shifted until he’s in control. What I have on my hands now is a five-hundred-pound killing machine that is barely able to tell friend from foe. Maybe King is tired of me showing off my ability to dissipate the effects of K-5 so quickly. It wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve tested his limits in control, and the poor man must be on his last leg.

  A small scream has us charging into the area where the children have taken on three hellhounds. It’s something King and I can handle easily, but it taxes the kids’ budding human strength far beyond their ability. Unlike Shadow Warriors, a hellhound bite or scratch will kill human children. What were they thinking?

  “Go for his throat,” Ruth grunts at Che while she battles two hellhounds on her own. Ruth’s long red braid whips left and right, her face set in with fiery determination. She’s only a few inches taller than Che and that’s not saying much. Her green intelligent eyes often hold an angry burn that should never be seen in a ten-year-old.

  Che spins, his thin legs looking uncoordinated. It surprises me when his strike takes the hellhound square in the stomach before his knife, much too large for his small hands, drives into the hound’s throat and nearly decapitates him. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it. The hound isn’t quite dead, and I finish the deed. King takes on Ruth’s battle and makes short work of the hellhounds. I still know it’s possible one of them has been scratched or bitten and fear eats me from the inside out.

  A very angry Ruth turns her attention to my not-quite-stable mate. “We had them! You didn’t need to take all the fun out of our fight.” Ruth stalks toward King, her giant sword scraping the ground behind her because it’s much too big. King’s low growl isn’t a good sign, and I jump into action, heading the foolish girl off and stopping King from tearing her in half and eating her tender organs.

  I snap the sword from her grasp and shove her behind me. With hands raised, I draw King’s attention upward to my eyes. His burning gaze zeros in, and he shakes his massive head. “There, there, big guy. Children are not on your menu for supper no matter how good they taste.” His eyes roll within his Goliath head and in other circumstances would be comical. It also lets me know he’s gaining control of his beast, which is quicker than usual and probably due to our earlier run through the forest. I turn back to the kids who both wear stubborn expressions. “I’ve had it with your inability to follow orders.” My voice rises. “War is not your personal playtime, and you’re making it difficult for us to protect the people on the island.” Now I’m shouting.

  Ruth, without an intelligent brain in her tiny head, is having none of it. “Give my sword back and we’ll see who talks big then,” she barks in her juvenile voice that grates on my last nerve. The sword in my hand flies through the air, and Ruth grabs it before it hits her. She’s unable to hold the weight for long, and the tip drives into the ground, and she struggles to pull it out.

  “You want a go at me, now’s your chance,” I yell back at the idiot child.

  “Babe,” grumbles King.

  I don’t remove my eyes from the threat. “Don’t ‘babe’ me. It’s time to teach this pint-sized turd a lesson.”

  “Girl,” he grumbles again to correct me.

  “I know she’s a girl. I know I can take her with one hand tied to my big toe. The problem is,” I glare at Ruth, “she doesn’t know it.” I launch in her direction without warning. She barely gets the sword up before I bat it away. “It’s too big for you, but you’re too stubborn to understand that.” I smack her face with the palm of my hand much more gently than she deserves. It’s only to piss her off. She flies at me with a shout of rage. I send her airborne, and her body makes a soft thump when she connects with the ground. I shouldn’t feel a thrill but I do. If anyone had it coming, it was Ruth.

  “You’re bigger and stronger; you didn’t need to prove it,” mutters King.

  Still watching Ruth as she slowly gains her feet, I’m prepared when she launches herself at me again. This time I bend low and scoop her up by her two scrawny ankles, suspending her upside down. She kicks her legs trying to hit me in the face, but my grasp is too tight, and she can’t get free.

  I look down at her. Long red hair that’s a fire waiting to be extinguished hangs in the dirt. Her dirty face goes red and her freckles more prominent. “Maybe your punishment will be hanging by your ankles in the courtyard so everyone can see how stupid and irresponsible you are,” I say with deadly seriousness. The idea holds merit.

  “I’ll spit on every one of them,” Ruth shouts with another twist. It doesn’t help her in the least.

  “And I’ll wash your mouth out with vinegar if you do,” I snap back, giving her legs a shake that travels to the swaying tips of her suspended hair.

  “My mother won’t let you,” she tosses back with a sneer, her red face turning purple.

  “Your mother will pay me to take you in hand.” I lift my arms up and slam them downward so her head is an inch from the ground. I glance up, and Che’s eyes are as big as saucers. “Don’t worry, you aren’t getting out of this either. You are under my care while your mother is away, and you took at least a year off my life tonight.”

  “Don’t listen to her; she’s the enemy,” Ruth screams, not yet ready to concede.

  Hitting her against a tree would be too easy. Okay, I wouldn’t really do it. This child just produces gory images inside my head. They usually culminate in her losing her ability to speak. It would be a major step in the right direction. “Che. Return to the citadel with King. Ruth and I need some quality time together.”

  “Is that a good idea?” King asks skeptically.

  “It’s the only idea I have. If only one of us returns and it’s her, you get your shot.”

  King’s jaws open then close much like an alligator snapping away flies while sunbathing. Wisely, he decides against saying whatever comeback he planned. Maybe he finally realizes my patience is over.

  “Che, come now,” he commands and takes off jogging at a slow pace so Che can keep up. Running the child into the ground will be a good start to his coming punishment. Che takes a last look at me before deciding his only chance to continue living is with King.

  When the noise of their departure fades to small animals and crickets, I drop Ruth on her head a few inches from the ground. She tumbles into a scrambled mix of arms, legs, and curses that shouldn’t come from the mouth of a ten-year-old. I casually step forward, my boot landing on her hair. She beats at my leg which I barely feel. “This is how easy you are to kill. For some reason you don’t get that. I could easily kick your head in, and there’s nothing you can do.” I place my hand on the sword strapped at my hip. It was a gift from King, designed after a sixteenth century German Mortuary Sword—double-edged, thirty-six inches, with two fullers to reduce th
e weight when I carry it in human form. It’s long enough to remove the head from a hellhound without getting bit or scratched. I give the pommel a small caress. “Or, I could cut your head clean off before you stopped me. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  She’s frantic now, her words barely making sense. I don’t release her hair, and I know with how hard she’s pulling, it must hurt. Poor kid.

  “I hate you,” she finally yells in fury when her attempts at escape fail.

  “I think I’ve heard you say it enough times that it’s finally sunk in. You want to try a different insult?”

  “I can kill hellhounds just as good as you.”

  I use my other foot to push against her shoulder and send her to her back. She gazes up at me with all the fury of an enraged pit bull. There’s still knowledge in her eyes, but it’s fading quickly. “No. You can’t.” I kneel down low and whisper, “You are human even if you don’t want to be. Killing hellhounds is dangerous for you because one scratch or bite and you’re dead. No second chances. The same goes for Che. It’s bad enough that you have a death wish. Che does not deserve to be pulled under by your stupidity and neither does his mother who has already lost too much.”

  She blinks a few times, and I’d swear she’s holding back tears. “You hate me.”

  Whatever demons she battles go so much deeper than any of us realized. The bigger problem is she’s dangerous to our community, and I need to adjust her insanity for all our sakes. So, I push. “You gonna cry, little baby?”

  “You bi—”

  I place my finger against her lips. “That word should never come from your mouth.” Before I finish my statement, she turns her head and tries to bite me. My thumb pushes under her chin, and my forefinger pushes hard against her lips, squashing them to her teeth. “I’m going to let you up and give you one shot at killing me. It’s the only chance you’ll get without retaliation so make it count.” I bounce back on the balls of my feet and watch as she climbs shakily from the ground. When she’s standing, I use the tip of my boot and upend her sword, catching it. I toss it to her and widen my stance, bringing my arms out so my heart is exposed.

  “What are you doing?” she demands with a very creepy gleam in her eyes.

  The kid is so darned bloodthirsty I’d swear she was a vampire. “You want to kill me, go for it. I’m tired of fighting you.”

  She looks around then backs up a step. “You won’t just stand there and let me kill you.”

  “Try me.”

  With a scream loud enough to wake the dead, she charges. I hold my ground without flinching as her sword arches toward my throat. A millimeter from my skin, the blade halts. I’m actually impressed at her control, and an idea forms. “I could have killed you,” she accuses angrily.

  “Yes, you could have.” I place my hand against the blade, and she doesn’t stop me when I push it from my throat. “What I’m wondering is why you didn’t? You’ve hated me since you arrived. Why?”

  Her small features scrunch up, and tears finally trail down her cheeks. My heart breaks, but I hold back words of comfort. She didn’t kill me, and I need to understand what’s going on in her turbulent brain.

  She’s weak, Ms. Beast whispers through my head.

  She’s a child, I soundlessly shoot back.

  Protect child is her soft reply.

  Leave me alone and I will. You’re complicating things.

  For once, Ms. Beast decides to do as I ask. I need my attention on Ruth. “You had your chance. Why didn’t you take it?” I ask again.

  She sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. I can’t help noticing her trembling fingers. She gulps in air and looks down. I wait her out, standing patiently while she gathers her thoughts. I can’t understand the first sentence, but then it slowly starts making sense.

  “I’m human, and I’ll never be able to fight. Those monsters killed my father and most of the people I love. I want all of them dead, and no one will teach me.” She looks up with a touch of fire sparking in her eyes. “You just want me out of your hair. If I died, no one would care.” She sniffs again and kicks the dirt.

  “Getting a young boy killed will not endear you to anyone.” I don’t soften my voice because that’s not what she needs right now.

  “Che’s the only one who understands.”

  “He’s too young to understand. He lost his father too. Actually two fathers. He’s still in mourning, and he has hero worship for you. How will you feel if he dies because of your foolishness?”

  Her hands ball into fists, and she slams them against her thighs. “I hate being human,” she grinds out. “I can’t do any of the things you can. I can’t swing a sword and take a head off in one swipe. I can’t run as fast or fight as strong.” She lifts her hands in surrender. “My body will never do what yours does.” She glances to her feet again, and slowly the air expels from her lungs, and her shoulders slump.

  I can’t believe it when the next words leave my mouth. “If you want to train, I’ll teach you to kill hellhounds. If I could do it when I thought I was only human, you can too.” She looks up at me with such hope. She has no idea what’s coming, and it’s time to set the rules. “If you say yes, you’re at my mercy. If you feel hated, it doesn’t compare to how I was treated when I first arrived. I’ll not go easy on you.”

  “You would train me?” she asks in a small, voice that breaks my heart again.

  “I have rules which you will obey. Breaking just one will end our agreement. There’s no room for more than one general during training.”

  She stands taller and throws her shoulders back, a small smile fighting to come out. “I’ll… I’ll do anything.”

  I’m so going to regret this. “Good, because my first order is for you to go home, tell your mother about tonight, and ask her permission to train with me.”

  The smile drops. “She won’t agree.”

  “That works, if you want to give up that easily, no training. That doesn’t mean you aren’t my student and the rules don’t apply.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  “Yep.”

  “If she says yes, you’ll train me?”

  “I don’t like repeating myself, but yes, that’s what I said, but you haven’t heard all my rules.”

  “Sure,” she pouts. “But I already know they’ll be stupid.”

  I fight an eye roll. Even when she’s won, she fights. She’s everything I wasn’t at her age. Heck, she’s everything I wasn’t at twice her age. I lay out my rules. “Number one: Everything I say is important, and if the word stupid comes from your lips in regard to your teacher, we’re finished.”

  Her lips firm together in annoyance. “Deal.”

  Argh. I want to slap her again so badly. “Number two: You’re not the boss. I’ll speak when I want and ‘go on’ when I choose. If you don’t like it, take a hike.”

  Her hands go to her hips, but this time, she remains silent. It’s too soon to count this as victory. “Number three: You will never leave the walls of the citadel without permission.” I go on to my last rule before she objects. “Number four: you will follow my orders on everything. The first time you don’t, we’re finished.”

  Her stare drills me with its intensity and then, ever so slowly, she smiles, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. In a clear, strong voice that says she got exactly what she wanted, she replies, “Agreed.”

  I think I’ve been had.

  Chapter Three

  King

  Marinah can handle the Hellspawn, I tell myself as I march Che through the citadel to his temporary room while his mother is away. The room is beside the one I share with Marinah. His close proximity hasn’t helped our sex life, but then again, nothing has helped our sex life in months. I snuck in and joined her in the shower two days ago for a few stolen minutes. Even then, we were interrupted. I’m about to lose my mind, and the guttersnipe I have by the ear isn’t helping matters.

  “If you leave the room again, you’re deali
ng with Marinah, and I promise not to save you.”

  “Will she hurt Ruth?” His lips quiver and his small head tilts to the side, big eyes blinking with just enough moisture this may not be an act.

  Just great. I would hope she’d knock some sense into the girl, but I doubt that’s what’s happening. The image in my head is a catfight with no clear winner until one of them is dead. “Ruth will get what she deserves, and so will you.” Someone just add heartless to my name.

  I open the door and give him a gentle push on his shoulders. He turns around, and pride shows in his expression. “I almost killed one of the monsters all by myself.” He lifts his skinny arm and shows me his muscle. “I’ll kill one before I’m seven.”

  How am I supposed to remain angry or not laugh for that matter? I place my hand on his head and ruffle his hair. “If Marinah catches you again, you won’t sit for the entire year. There will be plenty of time to kill hellhounds once you’re older.”

  I close the door and walk away after he steps back. Boot’s loss rolls over me. It doesn’t help that I worry about Marinah constantly. Just when I think we’ve made headway, she acts compulsively and terrifies me. She’s come so far, and dealing with her is a delicate balance of compassion and aggression. She enjoys pushing my buttons which doesn’t help. Strike that. She enjoys pushing everyone’s buttons. Just because she’s a Shadow Warrior does not mean she’s invincible. I do my best to remember Greystone’s patience with me. He trained me in my teenage years, and it had to be worse.

  Marinah is so much stronger than she believes. She doesn’t know how to harness her strength and focus it. She allows her former mistakes to guide her, and the last thing she wants is for anyone to think her weak. We don’t. That’s the weight she puts on herself. Just thinking about her foolishness sends an extra burst of K-5 through my system.