Sword of the Tyrant Read online
Page 4
And she's naked. Because of course she is.
He shook the thought and took a second, closer look.
She had green eyes, and she bared her teeth briefly before hiding them as her tail tucked itself, then lifted again. It was obvious she was struggling with something.
"You ... you killed Theseus?" she asked, her voice low and growly.
"Yes, I did."
He spoke simply, then waited, watching her reaction.
"I ... want your bond," she said, straightening abruptly as she made her decision.
"No."
She blinked and her tail drooped as she tilted her head and asked, "Why not?"
"You attacked my other women and tried to kill them. I appreciate your warning, but that doesn't let you off the hook. If there's something else I can give you we might do a deal, but I don't want you hanging around."
"Lane wanted revenge and roped me in because I'm hard to kill. She's gone now, and I can be useful," she said. "If you beat Theseus, you'd be a good alpha."
"I've got plenty of people who are hard to kill. I don't need you."
She bared her teeth as she growled, "If you don't take me, then I'm going to kill you."
"I beat Theseus. What makes you think you can take me on?" he asked, trying to be reasonable. A bit of focus renewed his tremor sense, and he saw that her heartbeat had sped up, and tension was building up in her thighs.
"You're alone now," she said. "You don't have Halla's help. I can get to you before you cast. Say yes, or die."
Terry leaned away from the pole, took a slow step, then faced her squarely. She watched him with a feral intensity, no longer trying to hide her readiness. Her hackles rose and her lips were parted. She'd spread her hands, and her claws were short, but they looked thick and sharp.
A sense of brutal anticipation arose in him. He smiled and brought his hands up as he said simply, "No."
She leapt.
He crouched and counter-charged, ducking her swing as he planted his right fist in her guts.
She stumbled past him and fell to her hands and knees, then whirled and came at him again, tongue lolling as her jaws parted.
Fast recovery. I'd have sworn my shot took her wind.
She slashed again and he slapped her hand away as he backpedaled, watching her timing, technique, and footwork.
She was fast, but while her attacks felt powerful, they were looping and perfectly telegraphed.
She slashed at him three times, then surprised him again with a full-body lunge, her jaws opened wide.
He twisted aside and kicked her lead leg hard while it was still off the ground.
Her body spun and he cut loose with a powerful jab that caught her on the temple and sent her flying backward to land on her side.
Again she surprised him by immediately getting into a crouch, growling low in her throat, tail wagging so hard it shook her lower body.
"You can take a hit, I'll give you that," he said, still casual as he squared off with her again, fists raised. "Now knock it off before you really get hurt. I'm out of your league."
"If you call those hits, I don't know how you beat Dad," she growled, coming at him again, jaws gaping.
He crouched and leapt, closing her jaws with his knee and checking her advance. The force of the impact was bone-jarring, and several of her teeth flew away along with bloody drool as she yelped in pain.
He came down and took a quick half-step back as he chambered a side kick, then let her have it. The blade of his foot connected with her throat and she staggered backward, gagging as her body spasmed.
Then she lowered her head, shook it, and growled. Her green eyes held his as she bared her teeth in a feral grin. The empty spots filled themselves in while he watched.
"Theseus' gift to me. I can regenerate, and I don't tire. No matter how much you think you outclass me, I'll get you eventually. Give up. Give me what I need. I'll submit if you promise to add me to your pack."
Terry took a step back and concentrated on speaking in plain English.
"By the power in my vei-"
"No casting!" she howled, throwing herself at him and forcing him to defend.
He slapped away another slash, then slipped another looping attack and caught the back of her wrist with one hand as he set his other on her shoulder and used his leverage to slam her head into the upright beam of the porch next to them.
Her head bounced and he shifted his grip to the back of her skull and smashed her into the post again, then again. As her legs sagged he did it twice more on her way down, leaving splintered, fur and blood-spattered divots at intervals in the seasoned wood.
He let her go and stepped back as he began again to cast his spell.
"By the power in my veins, let my next touch inflict my greatest pain."
As he finished, the werewolf was already staggering back to her feet, eyes wild and face bloodied, but no longer torn as she howled, "I'll never stop! I'll make you mine, or make you pay!"
She charged, and he smacked her clumsy slash aside.
The touch discharged his spell.
She dropped instantly as his magic caused her to experience his own worst agony. The effects of the spell on Stheno had been disappointing. He had been sure it would work on the gorgon, but wound up doubting its effectiveness after the lackluster result. Now, he watched dispassionately as the werewolf curled up, shuddering, then bowed backward, jaws gaping in a soundless scream.
I guess it does work, he mused.
As she writhed, Terry noticed that the black highlights were gone from her fur. Not only that, but as the seconds passed her gray fur lightened until it was almost pure white.
Then her body went slack as her eyes lost focus, then closed. Her tongue lolled from slack jaws as she lay before him, completely unconscious.
He continued to look at her unmoving body, then slowly reached back, pulling his bone-handled knife from its sheath. It was a double-bladed dagger, and he held it easily as he looked down at her.
'I should kill her now.'
Despite the thought, he didn't move. A wordless war was fought behind his eyes. There was an unmistakable dark impulse within him. It told him she was just another in a long line of antagonists, that unless he wanted to risk her killing someone he loved, he should end it now. What if she attacked Shy, or Laina?
What if she caught them from behind when they were fighting something serious and tipped the battle against them, or spread the word he was here?
There were numerous reasons to end her life. Solid reasons.
Yet his knife hand didn't move.
I did this to her. This is my fault.
'She made her own choices.'
Everywhere I go, this happens.
'You are not responsible, but you WILL be if she kills someone you love. End her.
'Now.'
"Great," he muttered, forcing his hand to resheath his knife. "Now I've got split-fucking personality. Koschei, right?"
There was a deep silence in his mind that nevertheless answered his question.
"I might not exactly be spiritually enlightened, asshole, but I am very self-aware. I know who I am, and what I stand for."
'Do you really? How much of what you have done was because your women pushed you, influenced you ... tainted you? Terry Mack, man-ho? Murderer? MONSTER? You just beat up a heartbroken girl. Then, you used magical torture instead of reason to subdue her. Finally, you seriously contemplated slitting her throat while she lay helpless before you. Truly, you know exactly who you are.'
Terry bared his teeth.
The only one pushing and influencing here is YOU.
Koschei sounded amused as the evil man's thoughts wound through Terry's own. 'Whatever helps you sleep at night. I'm actually doing you quite the favor. Now that you know I'm conscious, you get to blame everything on me. Every little mistake, every brutal choice, every lost temper ... I'll be behind it all because, of course, you were a SAINT before I came along.'
Before Terry could even fully form the thought, much less express the desire, Koschei stole it from him and said, 'Never fear. Getting rid of me is simplicity itself. The spell is right here, waiting. Just put me in someone else. Even someTHING else. Put me in a cage. Bury me deep, toss me in a volcano, whatever you like. You can get rid of me at any time. Kick the can down the road, Terry. Pass responsibility. Until you do, I will be right here ... a convenient excuse for ALL your bad behavior. Hehehehehe. We are going to be such good friends.'
I'll destroy you, Terry silently vowed.
Koschei's voice oozed confidence. 'You will try. But our game is not finished yet, Terry Mack ... and before the end, you will wish you had given me my cut first.'
4
Strangers on a Plain
Terry walled away Koschei's presence as best he could, knowing all the while that the knowledge he relied on to perform his mental compartmentalization was Koschei's to begin with.
It seemed to work, at least as far as he could tell. He could still sense the evil presence in his mind, though, like a rabid dog locked in a closet, scrabbling at the bottom of the door.
Considering the unconscious werewolf for a long moment, he remembered what Koschei had said, and realized the old warlock probably understood better than he had the poor woman's motivation. He'd simply presumed she was just another eldritch wanting power ... but maybe she really was just heartbroken and alone, looking to belong.
Crouching next to her, he gently shook her awake.
Her eyes snapped open, then oriented on him as he lifted his hands and asked, "Can we talk?"
"What did you do?" she growled, rolling onto all fours and shaking herself, a move that started at her shoulders and went all the way down her back to her haunches. Then she crouched, looking at him warily.
"I know how to hurt people, even the ones who think they can't be hurt," he admitted ruefully. "Sorry."
"I try to kill you and you apologize to me?"
"Well, yeah. You were kinda dumb for thinking you could take me, or even force me to kill you. You just aren't that good."
"You knew?"
Terry hadn't known, but it was an easy guess once he had the missing piece, so he just nodded and said, "I'll let you tag along if you promise me something."
"What?"
"You won't try and get in my pants."
"I don't know what that means."
"No sex with me. Don't try. I don't want you. Doesn't mean we can't be friends, but we will not be lovers."
"You don't think I'm worthy? I could have torn Halla limb from limb before she got your bond. I'm better than her."
"It isn't about your ability to fight."
"What else is there? She was ugly, and from ME that's saying something."
Terry gave her the side-eye and scowled as he said, "We've established I'm not going to kill you. Stop trying to piss me off."
She blinked, then shifted from a crouch to her butt, wrapping her arms around her knees as she looked at him. "Okay. If I promise not to um, get in your pants, you'll let me stay?"
"Still want to?"
"I've got nowhere else to go."
"Yeah, that's what I figured."
She looked at him steadily, then asked, "So ... even without sex, you'll take care of me? I um ... I have needs."
"You can't feed yourself?" he asked.
"Not those kind of needs. I need suffering."
Blinking, he said, "I don't think I heard that right."
"You can see colors, right?" she asked, lifting a hand to run it through the rich ruff of fur on top of her head.
"Yeah?"
"My fur gets darker over time as my need increases. If it goes completely black I need ... literally need, pain. If I don't get it, I cause it. It's just ... that's what Theseus' bond did to me. I can take it ... and I can dish it out. The whiter my fur, the calmer I can be."
For a long moment, Terry stared at the werewolf, utterly at a loss for words. Finally he managed, "That's ... that's messed up."
She shrugged, then gestured to him as she said, "That spell you hit me with was awesome. Just give me a dose of that once a week or so."
"You ... want that?"
Her eyes widened as she nodded and said, "Didn't you see me? Whatever you hit me with made me cum so hard I passed out."
At his disbelieving look, she lifted her nose and after a brief sniff said, "Oh, no wonder. The breeze puts you upwind. Here."
She stood up and padded around to put him downwind of her, and the reek of desire that washed over him was immediate.
"Smell me now?" she asked.
He nodded, struck dumb for the second time in as many minutes. The smell of her made him really, really want to fuck.
Maybe offering her a spot wasn't the best idea I've had, he thought, still dazed as she circled back around and squatted, tongue lolling as she grinned at him, tail dusting the grass behind her as she stared down between his legs.
"Sure you don't want me in your pants?" she asked, just a hint of tease in her tone. "When my fur is light I can be really gentle."
He swallowed hard and managed, "Uh ... pass."
"But you'll still let me stay? Give me a shot of what I need every so often? If you ever need me mean, just give me pleasure. The more I get, the faster I go dark."
Her grin was full of teeth as she added, "I like it either way. Rough sex is my favorite. Dad used to pin me to the table with his sword and-"
"-AND I really don't want to hear you finish that sentence!" Terry shouted, waving his hands. "That's not rough sex! That's some evil, twisted shit."
"Hah!"
To Terry's utter bafflement, the werewolf fell over onto her side as she giggled ... which almost made her sound like Muttley from that old cartoon. Eventually, she rolled onto her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows as she looked up at him and said, "That's my name!"
"What is?"
"Twisted!"
They stared at each other for a moment in silence before he hesitantly ventured, "You're kidding."
"Nope!"
He opened his mouth, hesitated, then shook his head. "I give up. So ... as long as your fur is white, you're nice, but the darker it goes the meaner you get?"
"Pretty much."
"Anything else I should know?"
Twisted cocked her head and thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and looked back up at him. "I like my meat raw."
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Terry dryly said, "Noted."
They looked at each other for a moment, and he asked, "You can turn into a wolf, right?"
"Sure, wanna see?"
"Go ahead."
It looked like nothing so much as someone shifting around under a fur blanket. Her eyes never wavered from his, and the process was done within about twenty seconds. It didn't seem like she lost any mass in the transition either; it just shifted around. She was far larger than a normal wolf.
Okay that was waaaay less dramatic than the whole movie werewolf thing.
"Does that hurt?" he asked
She tilted her head, then shook it.
"Can't talk in this form?"
She shook her head again.
"Well, whichever you prefer. Probably should stick with me until the others are back from ... wherever the hell they've fucked off to."
Terry glanced around in irritation and shook his head. "No clue where they've all gone."
Twisted shot past him, paused with her nose in the wind, then glanced back at him and lifted a paw, pointing.
"Close by?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Not worried about it then. If they wanted me around, they'd have sent someone to get me. I've got other work to do."
5
Blue Monday
Terry was almost finished with the bloody circle he was inscribing around Stheno's body when Euryale landed nearby.
Twisted — who'd followed him out to the body and was lying down in the shade on the lee side of Stheno's mas
sive form — glanced up but did not rise, clearly taking her cues from Terry.
"Master?" Euryale asked, wings folding over her shoulders as she stepped up next to him.
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing?"
"I need to restore Stheno to her previous shape."
Euryale was silent long enough to get his attention, and he glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow.
She asked, "Why?"
"Well, the body isn't going to rot, and she'll get it back one day. I certainly don't intend to leave her like this."
"I see."
She thought for a moment, then completely changed the subject. "We were worried about you. When we couldn't find you in town they sent me up to find you." She paused, then added, "I would have thought you would know better by now than to wander around without at least one of us with you."
Terry jerked his head toward the wolf lounging nearby as he said, "Well, I had her with me. Euryale, this is Twisted. Twisted, Euryale. She can't talk in that form, but there, you've been introduced, and I wasn't alone."
"You trust her?" Euryale asked, not bothering to spare more than a few snakes to look at the wolf, who was now openly panting as she looked back up at the gorgon.
"More along the lines of I know she can't really do anything to me," he said absently as he went back to his work. The spell he wanted to cast would be much easier if he were fused with Prada, but neither of them wanted to do that again, so he was forced to rely on another method.
He'd given some thought to how to accomplish this task, and with Koschei's knowledge as a guide, had come up with the idea of using Stheno's own body image to restore her original form. Terry had once been told that he'd kept the scars he had in his old life not because this was his original body, but because his scars were how he remembered himself. His theory was that same sort of body memory could be used to restore Stheno. Since only her soul was missing from the body, all those memories should be intact. She couldn't have been like this for more than three weeks, whereas her previous existence ran back thousands of years.