Soul Avenged (Sons of Wrath, #1) (2 page)

A noise piqued
her sensitive ears.

Two flights
below.

It could’ve
been the skittering feet of a mouse beating against her skull like
a base drum.

The thirst for
blood moved like a dark storm cloud through her veins, a mix of raw
adrenaline and something else—the something that came with her
transformation.

Destroy.

Her feet moved
on impulse, carrying her closer to whatever it was, rendering it
nothing more than a thread-width away from its death.

In the corner
of a landing, he sat hunched over on himself, body convulsing.

A grin skated
across her face as she approached her first kill of the night.

His half-naked
torso gleamed with sweat and blood. The moon through the window, a
source of energy like an iron fist, pounded its power into the
vulnerable body slumped against the wall.

A halfling,
awaiting his change. Half human, half lycan. No doubt, bitten
recently and lost to fever and whatever else had him in its
grips.

His body
didn’t require the moon, but synced with it, leaving him
defenseless against a nocturnal craving to hunt.

Unfortunately
for him, he’d be dead before his first opportunity.

Ayden pulled
back the hoodie and tipped her head, watching his sufferance with
amused curiosity, the itching desire to rip his throat out
temporarily subdued by her own wonderment.

Witnessing a
change was rare. Halflings typically came in two flavors: dead and
ravaged or never found at all—always a grisly case for the poor
bastard assigned to investigate. A single bite would turn a human,
but the hunger to consume determined their fate. Human flesh, a
delicacy the wolves couldn’t seem to resist.

The male’s
body writhed, curling in on itself, muscles growing more defined
with each passing second.

Ayden moved
closer and crouched beside him—a dangerous position for any other
species. “The wolves wait for you, little lamb,” she whispered.

His eyes
opened only for a moment then rolled back into his head.

Conscious.

Her hands
trembled, anxious to take life.

Tamp it
down.

Fury and
violence tangoed inside her gut, desperate to explode into a
torrent of destruction. She swallowed that burning sensation in her
throat. After all, she’d never encountered a halfling before. It’d
be a shame to kill him without observing first.

What happens
to the lamb?

Something
about this creature was …
intriguing
. His face, the perfect
combination of flawlessness and bronze. His body, chiseled and
proportionate, and becoming stronger as fibers of muscle pushed to
just below his skin and spread.

A tattoo
adorned his left pectoral, a tiger in black tribal ink with yellow
eyes that stared back at her with menace.

Her fingertips
grazed the dagger at her side. A comfort.

For years,
humans had been told silver would kill the beast. All bullshit
stories rooted in mythological fairytales. Silver stunned them, but
never killed them. It might buy a few seconds in a fight, though.
The kill shot was the spine. Sever the head from the body. A
close-range bullet to the brain would work just fine, too.

Black hair,
drenched in sweat, hung low over his brow and covered his eyes.

Ayden reached
to swipe the fallen strands away but hesitated before contact..

Never look
into their eyes
—a golden rule of the Alexi warriors.
The
eyes emit the soul and the soul must be destroyed.

The halfling’s
hand shot out and captured her wrist, his transitional strength
bearing down on her muscles.

Ayden could
have snapped his arm from his shoulder in one move— yet she didn’t.
Instead, she froze, mouth hung wide, her body taut as if an
electric current ran through her while image after image flooded
her mind.

Visions.

So vivid and
clear.

Every one of
them human experiences.

Like a dream
or a home movie playing inside of her head, though nothing she
recognized from her own short span of memories since her
change.

Do they belong
to the halfling?

In the dream,
she held the hand of an older man with gray hair. His beaming smile
and warm, deep-set blue eyes stared back at her. Her attention
diverted down to a long white gown passing over a red carpet
beneath it. Nausea gurgled in Ayden’s stomach.

Nervous?

She lifted her
head to find a handsome stranger waiting for her beneath a
beautiful altar decorated in blue and white flowers that had been
wound in sheer white fabric and spilled over in celebration.

Ayden stood
paralyzed in the grip of the halfling, as if her body
wouldn’t
move at her will—until, in the next breath, her
mind snapped free of the dream.

Tentacles of
fear climbed her spine, raising hairs on her neck. She blew out a
forced breath. “What the hell just happened?” she whispered to
herself.

Green eyes
stared back at her, pained and pleading. “Help me,” he rasped.
“Please.”

Ire stirred in
her blood, boiling and swirling, until it finally erupted into
tendrils of rage that snaked through her skin. She ripped her hand
free from his grasp and fell back, away from him, as foreign
memories spun like a tornado in a black vacuum. Each inhaled breath
she managed to suck in begged more air.

Kill.

The instinct
taunted and beseeched every muscle in her body. Her lip curled
back, revealing gleaming fangs that could tear through his flesh
like razor blades. Yet, her limbs wouldn’t respond to the demands
warring inside her.

What’s
happening to me?

The world went
mute aside from the steady percussion of her heart throbbing in her
ears.

Who are
you?

A shake of her
head quickly dismissed the thought.

It doesn’t
matter, Ayden, they’re not your visions.

She wiped a
trembling hand across her brow and focused her attention back on
him.

His eyes were
fixated, concentrated, as though studying her face.

Forget the
memories. Kill him now.

Trying to
block her thoughts only roused more questions, though. So many
beasts she’d slaughtered. Why hadn’t this happened before?

Because he’s a
halfling?

This creature,
her enemy, had awakened something inside her. As she squeezed her
eyes shut, a yellow halo of light glowed against her lids,
indicating her usual gray irises had turned to gold.

Destroy
him.

Her lids flew
open again.

The halfling
fell limp, still convulsing. His green eyes rolled back in his
head.

Ayden reached
for her dagger.
Now
. Claws against concrete traveled to her
ear, tingling up her spine as they scratched and skittered in her
direction.

Other lycans.
Approaching. Fast.

“I’ll return
for you, lamb,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

Ayden bolted
upright and unsheathed her dagger in time to sink the blade into
the chest of the charging beast.

Its howl, an
absolute delight, echoed through her ear like the first hit of a
drug.

A yank of the
dagger left it yelping. Meat hung from the gut-hook at the end of
her blade. A swift kick to the lycan’s torso sent it hurling
against the concrete wall.

An enormous
monstrosity, the creature sat unmoving as if stupefied. Silver took
up most of its eyeballs, their rims pulled back, and its ears
flattened against its head, giving the beast a rabid look.

Her senses
told her three more were at its heels, rounding the staircase with
their angry grunts.

As the one
before her scrambled back to its haunches, she jumped, grabbing
hold of the underside of the stairs above and swinging over stories
below her.

She dodged a
swiping claw aimed for her torso and wrapped her legs around the
beast’s neck.

Lips peeled
back, as if something had torn them away, it revealed rows of sharp
teeth, and an incisor grazed her knee, drawing blood.

“Son of a—”
With a single jerk of her thighs she snapped its neck.

Still hanging
over levels of blackness by one hand, she sliced her dagger through
the wolf’s furry flesh. As its lower body dropped like dead weight,
Ayden tossed the head and watched it bounce down the stairs onto
the lower landing at the foot of an approaching lycan.

Behind it, a
second rose from the darkness below.

She kicked her
body to swing, let go of the bar she clung to, and landed in a
crouch on the top stair above them. Adrenaline surged through her
veins as she straightened to a stand, exhilarating her body, and
her mouth curved into a crooked grin.

The lycans
stood side by side, nearly eight feet in height. One, covered in
black fur, glanced down toward his hind claw where the head of his
pack brother lay oozing tarry blood. As its gaze swung back to
Ayden, its lip curled back into a snarl.

Both lycans
lunged at the same time.

The one on the
right made it no more than a foot before releasing a yelp. Its body
jerked backward as Zeke gripped the wolf’s nape and slammed the
creature against the concrete.

Towering over
his prey, the demon’s eyes glowed red.

Saliva dangled
from the opened maw of the conscious lycan, which continued to
creep up the stairs toward Ayden. Not even the yelps of its pack
mate, as Zeke removed its limbs in fun, seemed to deter the
beast.

Wrath Demons.
Never take shit seriously.

Ayden grinned
wider and flicked her wrist, beckoning it. “Come on. Come get
me.”

The halfling
moaned from the corner.

The beast’s
attention suddenly diverted and sniffed the air, its silver eyes
trailing toward the halfling that still writhed in pain. “Fresh
human meat,” the lycan growled out.

“No. The
halfling is mine. You want him? You’ll have to fight me for him.”
Ayden locked into her offensive stance.

“He’s ours. A
fresh bite.” A long pink tongue swept over the lycan’s teeth,
lapping up the stringing saliva.

“My kill. And
you can have him over my dead body.”

The beast
lunged and Ayden skirted to the side, knocking it in the ribs with
a roundhouse kick. It gasped and landed against the railing of the
ascending stairs.

She jumped on
its back, wrestling with the wolf as it nipped and clawed at her.
Her heels dug into its sides as her arms slid around its throat.
She steadied her hand against its gullet, lodging her nails into
the base of its neck, and a jerk of her hand tore its spinal cord
free from its body.

The lycan
flopped to the ground.

“Damn, baby. I
love watching you kick some ass.”

Ayden turned
to Zeke grabbing himself through his jeans. “So glad you could make
it.” She released the bony spine onto the remains of the wolf.

“Blame Calix.
Couldn’t decide what to wear again.”

“Speaking of
Calix. There were three.”

“Fucker got
blood all over my new jeans,” Calix grumbled, climbing the stairs
with the third wolf’s head in his grip. His eyes had already turned
from demon red to their usual cerulean. Sweat trickled between the
ridges of his divested chest.

“What the hell
happened to your shirt, bro?” Zeke asked.

“I took it
off. This shit’s ruining my wardrobe.” Calix leaned against the
stair railing, hung his arm over, and released the head he’d
carried into the shadowed depths below. “Sound the alarms. It’s
about to get crazy.”

“We’ll have to
finish the job later.” Ayden wiped the blood from her dagger on the
body of the wolf she’d just killed. “Something came up.”

“Uh … what the
fuck?” Zeke asked, throwing his arms out to the side.

Ayden sighed.
“Don’t give me a hard time, Zeke. Let’s just go.” She straightened,
eyes focused on the corner of the landing. “I’m gonna … need you to
grab that for me.” She pointed to the halfling.

Zeke shook his
head. “No, no. I’m a
Wrath
Demon. Not a bitch.”

Howls echoed
like a foghorn up through the staircase. No doubt the wolves’
dropped
pack brother had suddenly altered their mood.

Ayden clenched
her jaw and shoved her dagger into its sheath. “Pretty please.”

A grin spread
wide across Zeke’s face. “That’s more like it.”

Calix shrugged
back into his black button-down shirt, peering into the depths of
the stairwell with a tilt of his head. “Fight or flight.”

The beasts’
hind claws scrabbled against the concrete below, signaling the
coming onslaught.

Zeke, an
impressive six-seven with the body of a god, scooped up the
halfling into his arms. With his blond hair hanging as low as his
ears, he was almost as gorgeous as his brother, Calix, whose short
spikes of black hair and that shimmering off-shade of blue in his
eyes came on like a massive dose of sex pheromones. “This a late
night snack, Ayden?”

She ignored
Zeke’s question. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Grunts rose
from a few flights below them as the wolves rounded the
staircase.

“Yeah. Fucking
contracts,” he said, referring to the vengeance contract issued
between Ayden and the demons that forbade sex with clients. “That’d
be peachy. I’ll just flog my dick in the shower while you’re
sleeping in the next room over.”

Ayden
chuckled. “Promises. I’ll come watch if you like.”

“You’d like
that, wouldn’t you, princess?”

Ayden placed
her hands on her hips and shook her head. “How do you manage to
sucker women into going home with you, Zeke?”

Scattered
scrapes against the concrete echoed as the beasts advanced
closer.

“I’ll show you
how. Just as soon as you break that contract.” The wink he flashed
her could’ve halted a stampede of females. “What do you want this
for, anyway?” Zeke looked down at the passed-out halfling, so small
and frail next to him, even though the halfling’s muscle mass had
already doubled.