A Midwinter Fantasy - Leanna Renee Hieber [73]
“Your mother?” Raven laughed, howling at the thought of it. “Your mother!” His face twisted abruptly with hate again and he yanked Sally onto her feet, his hand still holding her hair. Travish jerked as though it were he being pulled, and Sally shrieked, trying to claw Raven’s hand free behind her head. Ruffles leaped to her feet, barking and whining.
“You’re sworn to me, you worthless pile of shit!” Raven shouted. “These are the people who mocked you your entire life! Who made you weak! They treated you like a damned servant when you should have been their master! They made you nothing and you defend them?”
Travish looked torn, staring at Sally, who stared back at him, her eyes wide. “My mother never did,” he whispered.
“Your mother’s a whore!”
Mace acted. It was a desperate move, but the brigands were all focused on Travish, at least for the moment. He lunged forward, all his energy focused into a single, scything blade of power that lashed away from him, thin as a leaf. It sliced through Sally’s hair in the inch between her skull and Raven’s hand. She fell forward, free.
The bandit dove for her, grabbing her shirt instead of her hair. In the next instant, seeing the threat and filled with her own bravery, Ruffles leaped at him, clamping her jaws on his forearm. Raven howled, yanking his belt knife out of its sheath.
“No!” Sally screamed, rolling over and grabbing his legs, pulling him off balance. He dropped the knife. Several of his men moved into action.
Mace barreled through those men between him and Sally, half of whom had been going to aid their leader, the other half of whom had been staring. He hit them and rolled, his large semisolid body flattening them to the ground but not killing them. Rolling back upright, he threw himself at Raven, his lightning-filled jaws gaping wide.
The bandit leader saw him coming and took advantage of the few seconds where Mace had been fighting through his men. His face a soulless study of hate, he punched Ruffles in the eye so hard that the dog yelped, letting go, and he grabbed Sally, ignoring his injured arm and her struggles as he pulled her up and against him, his arm around her throat and a second dagger at her chest. The point pressed lightly to her coat, right above her heart.
Mace skidded to a halt, roaring with all of his hate and fear. Raven just snarled, unmoved by Mace’s form or his hate. “Move and I kill her,” he promised. Sally’s eyes were huge with terror. The dagger’s point was pushing through the fabric of her coat, and Mace saw her gasp in pain. Slowly, hating Raven more than even his original master, Mace sank to the ground.
“Good,” Raven snarled. “Now—”
He stopped speaking, his expression suddenly bemused. He stayed that way for a moment before his arms dropped and he started sliding sideways. Sally stumbled forward with a yelp, her hands raised protectively before herself, and she turned and looked behind her, the same way Mace was staring. Both of them saw Travish standing behind Raven. His hands were empty, his soul throbbing with a hate that wasn’t any different from that of a battle sylph with a hive to protect. His dagger jutted out of the lifeless Raven’s back.
Chapter Twelve
Without Raven, the rest of the bandits were easy to force into retreat. Mace lashed out at them with his hate aura and quickly formed tentacles with which he beat at them. Leaderless, they fled out of the gorge and up the ridge, screaming their way in all directions. He let them go, too tired to give chase, and he drew as much energy from Ruffles as she could spare.
Sally stood in her son’s arms, crying against his chest while he stared over her head at Mace both shocked and horrified, numb now that his rage was spent. Mace shifted to human form and looked at the pair.
Travish gaped down at Raven’s body. “I couldn’t let him do that,” he whispered. “Not to my own mother.”
Mace nodded. He was tired, sore, and actually feeling the cold. He could sense how Travish’s regret for what Raven had done to Sally went to the young man’s very core, though not all