Page 42 of Helsing: Demon Slayer (The Dragon’s Paladins #1)
They didn’t have to wait long. Elias arrived with his second, Antonio, and a surprising third: Willem, the somber Dutch architect who hadn’t been out in the field since the December campaign against Asmodeus and his pet dragon, K?kab?êl.
Willem had lost his fiancée Eva after she’d fallen under the harmonic control of Yeqon—the Seducer, the original Watcher who’d lured the first woman and set the Elioud legacy in motion.
Willem looked ashen now, as if haunted by more than memory.
A viscous thrill of dread rolled over Ryan. He shifted his feet wider as it landed in his still-healing gut, which ached deep inside, especially in the middle of the night.
And the middle of his nightmares.
He caught Elias’s serious gaze and nodded.
They’d been in the training center together multiple times over the past week, each taking the measure of the other man, his leadership, and the warriors under his command.
Ryan didn’t care that the knights weren’t ‘real’ soldiers in the sense of a modern army.
Elias, Antonio, and the rest? They were the real deal.
He glanced at András as the three newcomers settled on the other side of the dire-wolf carcass. The giant Hungarian dipped his chin at Ryan: it was his show.
Ryan cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, setting his feet in a wider stance and clasping his hands at his waist. “The rest have disappeared. Apparently, they don’t give a crap about this ugly bastard here.” He nodded toward the dire wolf, ignoring its open maw and dagger-length fangs.
Elias squinted and looked back toward the woods. “Until now, they have always hunted as a pack. This one is smaller than the others, yes, but they did not try to defend him. That strikes me as suspicious.”
Beta squatted next to the animal. An instant later, a small hooked knife, her karambit, appeared in her left hand.
She struck at the creature’s throat before Ryan could anticipate her moves.
Thirty seconds later, she’d detached the head.
She looked over her shoulder at her husband, whose dark glare sent a shiver down Ryan’s spine.
“It is a wolf. A perverted wolf, corrupted by Abaddon’s influence,” she said, standing and turning back to the group with the dripping head at her side. Beta gestured at the landscape around them as she spoke. “This pack comes from these mountains.”
Tightness gripped Ryan’s chest. Heat flamed in his wound. For a moment, he struggled again with Germaine, who raked her claws into his gut.
He looked at András and Beta. “The lure?” he asked, not elaborating. Miró had briefed the senior command staff at the after-action conference they’d held in order to review the state of the world post-geomagnetic flare when Ryan had recovered enough to attend.
The couple exchanged glances with Elias, who looked grim.
His hand tightened on the hilt of his harmonic ribbon, one of the weapons the Archangel Zophiel had gifted the mysterious Order after the war with K?kab?êl, the Fallen Watcher Angel known as the Star of God.
Antonio, who stood next to his order’s commander, shifted but said nothing.
Before the two Elioud warriors could answer, Willem took a step forward. “Miró sequestered the charm you brought back from Split, Demon Slayer.” He shook his head. “This is not from that one.”
He paused, seeming to gather himself before plunging on.
“It is from the bracelet that Germaine Grimes wears that I discovered not half an hour ago. I was unable to remove it before I came, not without risking her life. It is powerful enough to warp susceptible creatures within a sphere of influence, although I do not know yet how wide that is.”
He pointed toward the head that Beta still gripped. “These animals are neither dumb nor acting on their own evil instincts. Abaddon watches us even now through its eyes.”
“Sweet Saint Zophiel,” said Elias in a low murmur.
The pitspawn prick, Abaddon, had a toehold inside Albania. It was only a matter of time before he and his Locusts appeared. The dire wolves had been more than a harbinger: they’d been advance shock troops.
Before Ryan could lead the next conversation to a tactical response, the humming drones overhead began to shriek a high-pitched, staccato warning.
“Intrusion! Intrusion! Intrusion! Sectors Six, Seven, and Eight. Tactical breach confirmed. Deploy to assigned rally points. Condition Umbra. This is not a drill.”
Holy crap. The dire wolves had used the straggler as a distraction to slip past their perimeter. The Kastrioti Estate was under attack with half-trained recruits as defenders.
Dianne.
Dianne had no one there to save her from the dire wolves.
In that moment, Ryan knew that whatever wall he’d erected to protect her from him had detonated into a fine mist of urgency, protectiveness, and love.
Love.
The realization he’d tried to bury echoed around his heart.
He wasn’t about to lose the woman he loved to the motherfarging Angel of the Abyss. Abaddon could go screw himself—with a flaming sword.