On the Eleventh Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…

Welcome back to the twelve days of Christmas, fantasy style. So far, we’ve had a god with a secret, two changeling cats, three fearless hunters, four lightning birds, five gold rings, six members of the Battalion, seven of the Elite, eight greedy goblins, nine brave soldiers, and ten borrowed shapeshifters. If you’re just joining the story, a small estate within the mortal realm has collapsed. All twelve days relate to the rescue effort.

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…Eleven Noble Shields.

Blade’s eyes narrowed, his cat pushing against his skin as he watched the procession flying across the sky. The Siren Queen was surrounded by her guards, but they couldn’t hide Constance’s power; her shimmering glory. Perhaps it was the wings, so dark they seemed to blot out the landscape, or the blue at the edge of her primaries that blended with the sky. It made her wing span seem endless.

His gaze flickered over the guards. There were thirteen Noble Shields in all. Constance always left two to hold down the fort, and there were ten in the sky, which left one on foot. The one the queen never went anywhere without – her golden boy. So to speak.

Blade tensed the moment he felt him. The vampire was a sneaky son of a bitch, but they had known each other too long, too long to think the cat didn’t smell his arrogant stench.

Smiling, Blade allowed his cheetah to take over; exploding in a blur of movement. Before his friend could react, he spun and barrelled into him. Blade took the favoured Shield down with enough force to knock the wind out of him, or maybe that was because he was sitting on his chest.

Come on, Pan. I thought we were over this? Aaron’s mental voice brimmed with good humour, though Blade didn’t miss the hint of confusion. The fact they were now on the same team had softened Blade’s anger a little. But that was before he was reminded of Aaron’s juvenile prank.

No. I still want to chew on your bones. I just hide it better.

Aaron laughed, bending his neck to look behind him as Constance and her guards came to land. They shifted seamlessly into their half forms; downy feathers covering tall, lean bodies – a natural uniform.

“Panashe Rivera,” Constance said in that lilting tone she had. The one that made him want to obey her every command. “What have I told you about trying to snack on my head Shield?”

Blade reined in the cat, shifting as seamlessly as the sirens had done. His own body suit settling into place. “Connie,” he said, grinning when she arched her brows.

She gave an exasperated little sigh, before waving her hand in permission. Blade moved to her, leaning in briefly to rub his face against her inky hair. “Your majesty,” he said, then. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I couldn’t talk her out of it,” Aaron grunted, already on his feet. “One of the soldiers you’re treating is a friend.”

That wasn’t a surprise. Of the squad still recovering, all but two were human. The siren in their group had yet to regain consciousness. She had a nasty head injury, and even with her healing capabilities, the prognosis wasn’t good. Not if she didn’t wake up.

“I’ll take you to her.” Blade stepped aside as Aaron took his position beside Constance. Even inside the secure compound, none of the Shields would take chances.

They followed him to the infirmary, and not for the first time, Blade was grateful for the sense of community that had only grown in strength. The shapeshifters had gone all out to boost morale, and it worked like a dream.

Constance and her guards moved directly to the siren in the first bed. All but Aaron. He hung back, standing beside Blade as the others formed a half circle.

The space was filled with a hushed silence. Those who lay recovering, looked on with matching expressions of awe and curiosity.

Then Constance began to sing, her voice so soft, so beautiful, Blade almost staggered on his feet. His cat was purring in his mind, the compulsion in the queen’s gentle tone relaxing his animal like little else could. When the others joined in, Blade thought he could happily bathe in the glorious sound. The safety in it, the pride they were projecting to their fallen comrade.

As her guards took control, Constance leaned forward and put her lips close to the wounded siren’s ear. No matter how much Blade concentrated, he couldn’t hear the words she spoke – not above the lyrical music still filling his ears.

Whatever it was, the siren’s eyes opened. They were a tawny colour, still clouded with prolonged sleep, but she recognised her queen and her smile was radiant. After a few seconds, her lids drooped again, but the smile remained.

Blade glanced at Aaron. That is the coolest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

You always say that. Aaron grinned. But I must admit, Constance is scary good.

Good? She’s extraordinary. My cat his half in love.

Now Aaron rolled his eyes.  I’ve heard that before, too. And you don’t fool me. Your cat is the reserved one.

Yeah. Consider yourself lucky Constance lulled him into sleep.

It is a treat, isn’t it? Smooth and soft…kind of like honey.

Blade laughed and slapped his friend on the back. He could never stay angry with the son of a bitch for long.

Thanks for stopping by

Mel

On the Ninth Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…

Welcome back to the twelve days of Christmas, fantasy style. So far, we’ve had a god with a secret, two changeling cats, three fearless hunters, four lightning birds, five gold rings, six members of the Battalion, seven of the Elite, and eight greedy goblins. If you’re just joining the story, a small estate within the mortal realm has collapsed. All twelve days relate to the rescue effort.

On the Ninth day of Christmas my Craze Muse sent to me…Nine brave soldiers.

Blade? What the hell?

Logan jumped from the vehicle he’d driven back to the site and stared. The security fence, the mechanicalised gate he’d expected to swing open, was gone. Now there was – nothing. Not the site beyond, or the newly constructed dwellings. Not the tents littering the outer edge. Nothing.

His mind struggled to process exactly what he was looking at; like a visual moratorium . An all-around blind spot.

It was instinct to defer to the wolf, to allow him to prowl closer to the surface, because the animal detected things the man didn’t. The scent registered first, a subtle blend of sophisticated magic. If concealment spells had a flavour – this one would be goblin.

Why are you standing there gawking? Don’t you have a truck full of wounded soldiers?

As though the sarcasm soaked voice in his head was a trigger, the spell dropped and Blade came into view. He was watching Logan from the other side of the open gate, and wearing a ridiculous grin that flashed his own animal.

Logan flipped him off as he climbed behind the wheel again. His brother was right about his precious cargo. He was carrying nine severely wounded soldiers. Brave men and women who had volunteered for a mission nobody else wanted.

It was no secret the Fractured were establishing camps across the realm. Logan refused to refer to them as clubs – recreational or otherwise. The bastards were conducting experiments, and had acquired a family of hympes. Borrowed. That was the term one of the soldiers had used. Because the family had a long history of forced imprisonment. It made Logan sick.

They had been placed together during the Hympe Trials – a hundred-year contract enforced on the race – and had been tricked into servitude.  The sorcerer who owned the original contract had convinced them to sign over their freedom for another century.

It was a gruesome history, and the soldiers in the back of the truck had risked everything to get them out. Logan was fucking proud to serve beside them.

Blade was waiting for him when he parked the truck. He left enough room for Riley, who was driving the second vehicle.

“How bad?” Blade asked, with no hint of his earlier humour.

“Bad enough.” He pulled back the rear doors and grimaced at the scent of blood and pain.

Zachariah was beside them in a flash, his dark skin pale. As though he were the one bleeding. And perhaps he was, in a way. The vampire could feel them, and had connected with the soldiers’ pain. It was Zachariah’s duty to protect humans, and the compulsion to help everyone at once was riding him hard. He was already fighting off exhaustion.

“Easy, Zac,” Logan said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he moved to enter the truck. “We’ve got this.”

When he felt Zachariah tense under his hand, he knew he wouldn’t see reason. Not without a little help. “Sorry about this, bud.”

Logan let out a low, high-pitched whistle, and right on cue, Maddison ducked her head out of the command centre. She had a connection to her brother, was likely fighting the urge to take his back, and Logan had just given her permission.

The sound was also a call to action. In seconds, he was surrounded by medical personnel, armed with stretches.

Thanks for stopping by

Mel

On the Seventh Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…

Welcome back to the twelve days of Christmas, fantasy style. So far, we’ve had a god with a secret, two changeling cats, three fearless hunters, four lightning birds, five gold rings, and six members of the Battalion. If you’re just joining the story, a small estate within the mortal realm has collapsed. All twelve days relate to the rescue effort.

On the Seventh Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…Seven of the Elite.

It took every stubborn cell in his body, but Logan managed to stand in place. He didn’t roll his shoulders, didn’t pace or growl when Blade smirked from the front row. The soldiers crowded into the large tent were looking to him to make decision.

“Hilmore is the perfect place to relocate a community of this size,” Riley pointed out. His cousin was lounging against a table; a strategic placement because it put him beside the food. “It’s an established safe zone.”

“I agree, despite the logistical nightmare of transporting all the wounded. But the community have lost enough. They want to stay, so we need to revise the plan.”

“If I may make a suggestion,” a lyrical voice spoke up from the back.

Logan’s attention snapped to the last row, where the elves crowded together, conferring quietly. They were the relief team, seven members of the Elite who had arrived an hour before.

Apparently, Maddison Wood had friends in high places, because these soldiers had offered their services, even knowing the team they replaced were sleeping off their exhaustion. They had pumped so much power into the earth during the rescue effort, Logan swore he could feel the heat burning the soles of his feet.

“Go ahead,” he said, clearing the gruff from his throat.

“We took the assignment on behalf of the House of Gilliford. With the right help, we could transform the site.”

Logan had a feeling the right help meant one seriously sassy witch.

“Maddison is overseeing outer security, but we can pull her in,” Blade supplied helpfully.

“I suppose you’re volunteering to deliver the news?” Logan shook his head. His brother couldn’t resist getting his flirt on, but when he was in full on avoidance mode, his cat was lethal.

I live to serve.

Logan rolled his eyes. You live to goof off. Get out of here.

Blade rose to his feet. “It’s hell being the fastest one in the room,” he said aloud, wiggling his brows in Zachariah’s direction. “But you know I always pull my weight.” He didn’t wait for a response. The soft whoosh of the tent flaps signalled his exit.

Scratch goofing off. The damn cat lived to torment him, and gloating was one of his favourite ways.

Don’t be a grouch. Blade’s voice in his head only proved his point. And keep me updated.

Relaxing now his brother wasn’t around to get under his skin, Logan met the expectant eyes of his team.

An hour later, he was standing at the edge of the site, his wolf at attention as he watched magic flow in every direction.

The team of elves, an Elite group of seven, were subtle in their use of power. They communed with the earth, manipulating its energies with heads bent and expressions pulled tight in concentration.

In contrast, Maddison Wood was standing in the midst of a storm. Her long, dark locks unravelled and flying around her as she worked with the team to rebuild what was broken.

They weren’t alone. Landon and Lochlan had taken to the sky, their own power a vibrant, sizzling current as it streamed down upon the emerging construction below.

I thought only the gods could wield that level of power.

Even in his head Blade’s voice held a ring of awed disbelief. Yeah. She’s no ordinary witch. That’s for sure. He studied her. The elfin suit, the unmistakable glow of her power that shone a midnight blue through the strands of her hair. Maybe she’s part elf. Why else would her energy blend so seamlessly with theirs?

Beats me. But thank the gods that it does. It’s been a while since I saw anything that cool, man.

Logan didn’t know about cool. The earth was white hot. They’d had to move back several feet to avoid the burn. But he had to admit he was impressed. As the group worked together, several structures began to form; the bricks and mortar bending to their will.

Those structures looked nothing like the houses that had once stood in their place, and yet the aesthetic beauty was undeniable. Not only that, the houses blended with the environment, as though the earth now shaped them. A gift to the community who would thrive once more.

Perhaps the most spectacular thing, was the effect the power surge had on the trees and shrubbery littering the site. In the centre, a sapling that had been crushed under the weight of a falling building now stood erect and tall.

Logan remained in place until the group completed their task. He only moved when Maddison teetered on her feet, but Zachariah got there before him. He caught her, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her towards a nearby tent.

He was just about to follow when he heard Riley call his name.

“We have a problem,” his cousin said, though his eyes were following Maddison and Zachariah’s progress.

“What kind of problem?”

Riley turned back to him. “We just received a distress signal. A squad about a mile out.”

They began to head back to the command centre. “Do you want to take a team? “

“I thought we could head out together.” Riley smirked. “You’re looking a little tense there, boss. A little action might be just what you need.”

Logan laughed. He was right. His wolf needed out. Needed to run, to feel free for a while. But then Riley knew all about that. “Sounds good to me.” He nodded. “Let’s go.”

Thanks for stopping by

Mel

 

On the Sixth Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…

Welcome back to the twelve days of Christmas, fantasy style. So far, we’ve had a god with a secret, two changeling cats, three fearless hunters, four lightning birds, and five gold rings. If you’re just joining the story, a small estate within the mortal realm has collapsed. All twelve days relate to the rescue effort.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…Six members of the Battalion.

Blade stretched his aching muscles before moving to the next bed. Zachariah was way ahead of him. He was already pumping his happy juice into a young girl who had so many broken bones in her leg it would be a miracle if they saved it.

The vampire couldn’t heal, but he could ease her pain, and it was all they had right now.

Staring into her wide blue eyes, his cat pushed against his skin. He wanted out. It wasn’t a surprise, the damn fur-ball had charmed Louise, and she adored Blade’s animal half.

Giving in, Blade shifted. He ignored the grunt from Zachariah and placed his big head on the stretcher, nuzzling Louise’s cheek.

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Blade’s cheetah lapped up the affection, purring into her ear.

The happy sound she made pleased the man, too. Anything to distract her from her injuries.

“We have company,” Logan said, sticking his head into the tent.

With one last nuzzle, Blade left Zachariah to it, and followed his partner out.

In his cat form, Blade had excellent vision, so he spotted their visitors immediately. Of course, he’d have to be an idiot to miss the fact that all eyes were on the sky.

He shifted again, letting out a low whistle. “Woah,” he said, as his suit snapped into place. Gone were the days he had to scrounge up a pair of pants. Thank the gods for elfin magic. “We must be doing something right to deserve a visit from the Battalion.”

Logan flashed a wicked grin. “I don’t know. Some would say we belong on the naughty list.”

His cat huffed at that. “Maybe we have V and Joshua to thank.”

The Battalion were Empyreans finest soldiers. Warrior angels, who were sent in at the start of a war. Blade and Logan had the honour of working beside two such warriors, Joshua and Nevaeh. It was the first time members of the Battalion had taken on a more active role.

Actually. I’m responsible for the reinforcements. It’s customary at this time of year to exchange gifts. Is it not?

Logan growled beside Blade, which meant Orion was in his head, too.

And we’re responsible for cleaning up your mess. Blade said, watching as the Battalion drew nearer. Consider us even.

Does that mean I should send back the rest of my gifts?

“Don’t listen to him,” Logan said, lips quirking. “Besides, I like surprises.”

Blade decided it was a sorry state of affairs when he began to miss Orion’s presence. He’d expected him to show his face the minute he got rid of his cousin, but then, being a silent member of the Collective meant he couldn’t advertise his involvement. Pity that didn’t extend to the voice in their head, because, man did the god love the sound of his own voice.

“That looks like a pretty big surprise,” Zachariah said from behind them.

He was talking about the large container the six members of the Battalion were carrying. The thing was huge, but the angels made it look easy. Each warrior had a modified harness strapped around their chest. It attached to the crate in a way that left their wings free to do all the heavy lifting – so to speak.

“Want to make a wager about what’s inside?” Logan asked, as they moved to intercept.

“I’d win that bet,” Zachariah answered, but didn’t elaborate.

Blade studied the crate. The angels were making slow progress, and appeared to be treating their cargo with a little too much care. Even when they lowered it to the ground, they unburdened themselves with practiced skill, settling the crate on the outer edge of the site without so much as a tremor.

A tall, dark skinned angel, with wings a vibrant turquoise, stepped forward. Her harness dropped away as she moved. “You must be Logan,” she said, inclining her head.

It was the hair that did it. Even in wolf form, Logan’s coat was the purest white. An anomaly within his family, due to the absence of darker tones. In human form, his hair fell in thick waves, making him stand out like snow on a mountain top.

“It’s an honour,” Logan said, rolling his shoulders.

Blade snickered, which earned him a sharp look from his partner. It was just too damn funny to see Logan play the role of ambassador. Sure, his brother had a wicked sense of humour, but he overcompensated for his lack of social skills. Blade preferred Logan’s surly side. At least it was honest.

“I’m Celestia.” The angel flicked a glance at the warriors flanking her. “This is my team. We were told you’re in need of medical assistance.”

No sooner had she spoken the words, the front of the crate fell open.

“Surprise,” Zachariah muttered, making Blade laugh.

It was a surprise. A pleasant one. There were a least five medical personnel, each strapped to a seat, and so many supplies they could cure an army.

“We’re at your disposal,” Celestia said, tucking her glorious wings into her back. “It’s my understanding you want to secure the community.”

Which of course meant that was Orion’s plan. Blade couldn’t fault him, but he doubted they could restore the peace the humans had found here. They were no longer safe in their obscurity.

“Let’s start with healing the sick,” he said, thinking of Louise and so many others who needed help. He met Celestia’s pale green eyes. “You can rest up and then get a lay of the land. It’s good to have you on board.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he moved around the team and went to introduce himself to the medical staff. They had their work cut out for them.

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Badge of Honour – A Maddison Wood story

As it’s day five of the twelve days of the Fractured, and Maddison plays a big part in this instalment, I thought it might be the perfect opportunity to share the cover and synopsis with you. I will be releasing Badge of Honour next week.

When the Fractured descend on the mortal realm, and the Demonic War begins, Maddison Wood is the first to sign up. But when she follows her brother into the enemy camp, things go terribly wrong.

What began as a rescue mission, becomes her worst nightmare. Maddison is forced into slavery and stripped of all her power.

Trapped, she finds strength in the relationship she shares with her brothers, Zachariah and Michael. Together, they form an unbreakable, if unorthodox bond. The witch, the elf, and the vampire; a powerhouse of three.

After months in captivity, Maddison is offered a chance to escape. A chance that, for one of her brothers, comes too late. Michael finds his way out of one prison, only to be locked in another – the hell inside his own mind. Now Maddison faces her toughest challenge yet. She must find a way to bring her brother home, before they lose him forever.

And here it is…the unveiling of the cover!

badge-of-honourNow for a sneak peak…

Maddison studied the latest demon to face her in the arena and, what do you know – this one was royalty. He had to be, given the amount of feedback she received through the walled barrier. The damn thing amplified sound, but still, the blood-thirsty audience loved him. Go figure.

She felt tired, so damn tired of the endless cycle. The greedy, arrogant expression on a cacophony of faces that dissolved first into rage, then disbelief as she kicked their sorry asses.

This one was too pumped up on the ravenous applause to show fear, or perhaps he’d heard the rumours. It was more likely he was coasting on a false sense of security. After all, she was forbidden to use her secret weapon – the hair which contained the crux of her power.

It was not her only weapon. Her captors might appreciate her skills, but they didn’t know her history. Maddison’s training regimen had been brutal, but then, she had expected nothing less. Tristan Thorne was the best. A warrior at the top of his game, one whose role it was to protect the human race. With or without her magic she could wipe the floor with the piece of shit preening like a peacock in front of her.

She raised her hands in a ‘bring it on’ gesture, wiggling her fingers. The demon complied on a low snarl. Cute. He thought he could intimidate her.

He was a Sentinel; a beast in human skin. The only way to tell them apart was the shattered affect across the pupil. It bled across the demon’s iris in a deep blood red.

Spinning out of his way, she avoided the brunt of the collision. But she hadn’t accounted for his intelligence – clearly he’d been watching her fight. He anticipated her first few moves. Maddison was almost impressed when he managed to unbalance her enough to pin her to the ground. But then he made a mistake. Not only did he straddle her, he lost himself in the jeering of the crowd and placed his filthy mitt on her left breast.

Oh no you didn’t.

With measured deliberation, Maddison looked down. “I’ll give you three seconds to remove your hand or you’ll lose it,” she said in a conversational tone. “One…two…” Oh what the hell. She used three short, sharp jabs to debilitate – gut, face, windpipe. Then gathered her power into her core and flipped their positions. She didn’t wait for him to recover, or for his adrenaline and rage to kick in. She swiped his own sword, sheathed at his back, and brought the blade down on his left wrist.

The demon howled; a deafening sound matched only by the angry cries of their audience. It turned out she’d been right about his importance, and they wanted to teach her a lesson the hard way. A tag team descended on her before she had a chance to prepare. Not that any amount of preparation would have done her any good. A white hot shaft of pain tore down her spine as her jailer gave her a mental command that went against her natural instincts. ‘Do not defend yourself.’

She couldn’t ignore the compulsion, or utilise her unique weapon. The feedback rendered her powerless. The only upside to the whole thing was that she couldn’t feel the meaty fists striking her body. The slave collar was causing its own damage. It was like a freaking magnet for pain. It radiated throughout her body until she had to clamp down hard on her jaw to hold back a scream.

Thanks for stopping by

Mel

On the Third Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…

Welcome to day three. This is my take – a slice of fantasy – on the twelve days of Christmas theme. So far we’ve had a god who caused destruction in the mortal realm, and a rescue effort which began with a changeling or two. The story continues.

On the Third Day of Christmas my Crazy Muse sent to me…Three fearless hunters.

Logan waited beside the impromptu command centre, a tent one of the squads had set up to coordinate the rescue effort. He was on guard duty, a necessity considering the shit-storm of surprises they’d had to contend with over the past hour.

He’d already caught several wraiths trying to break through the barrier the elves had erected. Those wraiths hadn’t found the site on their own, but now that they had, they were looking for a quick fix.

Logan knew what they wanted. The people still trapped beneath the rubble were already weak, some barely holding on. Those poor souls would be easy pickings.

A growl built in his chest before he could stop it. His cousin was late. The fact Riley was one of the best hunters he knew, made it worth the wait. At least for a few more minutes.

And right on cue his cousin stepped into view. His timing perfect.

Logan blinked in surprise when he saw his companions. He’d known Riley would come packing, and by that he meant fully armed with his own team, but he hadn’t expected him to bring Maddison Wood.

The dark-haired witch had been out of commission for a while. She’d recently escaped from a war camp, or as the Fractured were calling them, recreational clubs – for the sick and twisted.

“Lo,” Riley said, flashing his trademark grin. “I hope you don’t mind, but a couple of my friends tagged along. You get three hunters for the price of one.”

Three? He’d expected more. Then again, the two he’d brought were their own army. If the rumours were true.

For some reason, Maddison was wearing and elfin uniform, Logan hadn’t seen anyone besides the Elite wear one of those beauties.

Her gaze travelled down his own suit, which was also elfin in nature, and she smirked as though reading his mind. “So, you’re a member of the exclusive club we’re all hearing about?”

“And you’re the witch who charmed the elves.” It felt odd that he would be recognised as a member of the Collective, but that was the nature of the beast, and his own was far more interested in Maddison Wood.

She laughed. “Zac here does the charming in our family.”

Zachariah Thorne, her adopted brother and partner in crime, stepped forward. “Good to meet you.”

“Thanks for coming.” Logan wanted to kick his own ass for that one. He rolled his shoulders and sucked it up. He still wasn’t comfortable with the position he’d been given, and his welcome speeches usually sucked.

Speaking of which. He was glad to have a vampire on board. Zachariah would be able to regulate the tempers in and around camp. Since they started pulling people out, tensions were running high.

“Riley speaks highly of you,” Zachariah said, shaking his hand.

Logan frowned. It was a nice sentiment, but it was full of crap. Riley didn’t speak highly of anyone. Not if he could help it.

“He’s just playing with you,” Maddison intervened. “We’re both curious about Ry’s family. He’s not exactly a sharer.”

“Now that I can believe.” Logan glanced down the road when he heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle. It had to be the supplies they were expecting.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he realised it was Maddison’s hair. It was like the tail of a cat, twitching in frustration.

“What is it?”

It was Zachariah who answered. “Not sure. Whoever is driving that truck reeks of deception. The poor sap is terrified.”

A low growl came from Riley’s throat.

“Easy there, wolf-man,” Maddison said, and Logan watched as her hair snaked out to wrap around his wrist.

He couldn’t decide what shocked him more, that Maddison could soothe his cousin, or that Riley allowed it.

“What do you say we go do our thing, boys?” Maddison said. “I think our new visitor needs to check in.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Releasing Riley, she moved to intercept the truck. Logan didn’t tell her they were expecting the additional supplies he could see piled in the back. Instead, he stayed where he was and watched the three close in as a unit.

A minute later, Riley had the driver pinned up against the cab of the truck, aggression rolling from him in waves.

“Care to tell me what’s going on here?” Logan asked, moving to the group.

“This dipshit just led a shit load of trouble our way,” Riley growled. His eyes flashed when they turned Logan’s way. “It’s time to let the wolf off the leash, cousin. There’s a group of lost souls less than a mile away.”

That explained where the wraiths came from at least. When they conquered a soul, for a time their hosts became animated corpses. Temporary or not, they were strong, and their presence would seriously damage moral. Nobody liked a reminder of what the demons had planned for the mortals who stood in their way.

Logan didn’t even hesitate, he shifted. It appeared his job at welcoming committee wasn’t over just yet.

Thanks for stopping by

Mel