Page 44 of Temptation Unleashed (Talaenian Fae #3)

H e brandished his blade the moment his feet touched rock, pressing the tip to the High Fae’s Adam’s apple before Grison could build a spell in his palm to defend himself.

His throat bobbed on a hard swallow. A single bead of blood welled from the puncture.

Thaddeus flashed a cold half-grin, tipping his head to assess his prey.

“Thad, you know you can’t?—”

“I’m very much aware of the curse Cecir placed upon me.

A curse I’m quite certain you instructed him to weave into his healing spells.

’Twould make sense, the pain I experienced when he placed me back into a healing sleep.

” His fingers flexed and tightened around the hilt. “Alas, there are always loopholes.”

Thaddeus caught Grison’s subtle shift as he began to spin another spell. He trapped Grison’s hands with weblike magic, constricting his fingers into fists and pinning his arms to his sides. Magic that did not retaliate, for no harm was done. His grin stretched.

“I’ve learned a new saying among the mortals. No harm, no foul. In our case, it holds a bit of truth, do you not agree?” A dark sound rumbled in his chest. “I came across some of your men not so long ago.”

Grison’s expression remained hard, but when Thaddeus opened his mouth and inhaled the air, he tasted the fear Grison tried to hide.

The Fae struggled against the magical binds Thaddeus placed on his arms, his magic having been snuffed from his fingers.

’Twas nice, to once again remind the bastard who believed he controlled Thaddeus like a bloody puppet just how little control he held.

“You don’t seem surprised.” Thaddeus leaned closer, his lips pulled back from his teeth. “Nor was I when they arrived. Did I not warn you to leave all alone until I was through with my investigation?”

“In regards to your brother, aye. But you seemed to have encountered complications?—”

Thaddeus pressed the tip of his blade a wee bit harder, drawing a thin stream of blood from the puncture.

“And you believe me incapable of handling a few mortals?” He laughed, the icy sound cooling the air and suffocating the flames in the fireplace behind Grison.

“Using forbidden magic on mortals, Grison? It feels a bit…personal to me. I suggest you leave Cael and the women alone, lest you wish for any men involved in future attacks to end up like your last flock.”

Grison’s eyes narrowed. “They’ve not returned.”

“Nor shall they.” Thaddeus’s mouth twitched.

Grison showed no emotion, no surprise at Thaddeus’s admission.

It did not sit well with him. “But you already knew that. Enough time has passed in this realm for you to draw that conclusion. Do not interfere with me, Grison. ’Tis my final warning to you.

If you value your life, and the lives of your dwindling crew here, stay away from my brother, his woman, and their friends.

Otherwise, you’ll find yourself down another wave of men, and you don’t have the numbers to recklessly sacrifice members of your movement. ”

Grison bored his hatred into Thaddeus’s eyes. “We are the only thing standing between you and death, Thaddeus. Dagda will kill you the moment he discovers you live.”

“But you lack the courage to deliver me to him for the sake of your own self-preservation. I’ve been lucky to evade his detection thus far, but I’m not fool enough to think I can do so for much longer.

My fate is death. The difference between you and me, Grison?

I do not fear death, whereas you want to live forever. ”

He twisted the blade enough to prove his point. Grison winced, leaning back. Thaddeus nodded once.

“Keep your men away from me. As you can see, your retaliation curse isn’t infallible, for I’m still here.” Slowly, he lowered his blade, but maintained the magic around Grison’s arms and hands. Grison scowled, his eyes ablaze with loathing. “Next time, I’ll send them back in pieces as a reminder.”

“If they don’t leave your anam cara in pieces first,” Grison snarled.

His words struck a chord in Thaddeus, a warning that left him unsettled.

“Aye, she’s your anam cara .” He started to laugh.

“Cursed mortal to be fated to you . ’Tis best to put her out of her misery.

Consider it my forgiveness for killing my men. One sacrifice for another.”

His blood crystalized with frigid realization.

“Who’s a fool now, Thaddeus? ’Twas only a matter of time before you’d leave her alone, and my men were ready?—”

Thaddeus sifted from the cavern back to Rori’s apartment, leaving Grison in bindings, alive.

His boots hit the carpet, his magic alight, hissing with energy as the lethal blow slammed into his shield before he’d completely materialized.

He stumbled back into Rori as she dropped into a ball, arms covering her head.

Her scream filled the air, ringing through the illusion magic that had created a hellscape out of her bedroom.

He cut through the pummeling flow of death magic, twisted it back around, and launched it in reverse.

The moment the two ribbons pierced Grison’s men, a searing ache blossomed in his chest. The two Fae dropped, their skin graying.

The illusions around him shuddered and melted back into Rori’s bedroom.

He bit back the sharp stabbing ache, whipped around, and lifted Rori off the floor. “You’re safe.”

Rori’s head snapped up from beneath her arms, eyes widening and lips falling open. Her fingers roamed across his face, her shock brightening her eyes. “Y-you’re here.”

Fire welled within his chest. The consequence of turning his magic on his enemies. “No time.”

An explosion rocked the floor. Another female screamed.

Thaddeus dropped Rori to her feet, grabbed her wrist and held her behind him as they rushed out of the room.

Cael flashed him a feral smile from the living room, building spells and weaving magic as he backed away from the encroaching pack of Fae, Cassy clinging to the back of his shirt.

Thaddeus counted them out quickly. Ten. Ten more men Grison would sacrifice.

Ten men who would most likely drain him of his last bloody breath.

“’Bout time, brother,” Cael sneered, unleashing an attack on the closest two. They weren’t death blows, and one missed its target. The other hit, rendering the Fae unconscious.

Attention cut to Thaddeus while a couple launched a merciless assault on his brother.

His assessment took seconds, but the chaos raining down warned mere seconds were too long. He wasn’t given time to gather a plan, only to pull his dagger, feed it power, build a shield around Rori as the first man lunged forward.

His blade struck clean through the man’s heart as another came at him from the side. And another. And another.

Within a moment’s breath, he’d become surrounded. Eight turned into ten, turned into a dozen. More appeared, their focus on Cael.

Thaddeus took a split second to reassess his position as the seething ache spread through his body from his chest. His power buckled. His strength began to wane. His last encounter had scarred him and he’d not completely healed.

Rori’s hand touched his forearm. “Thaddeus, please. Don’t.”

“The decision’s been made, storín .”

He picked his target, took his sword, and fought off another three as he moved agilely around Rori, holding his magic in place around her while dodging power blasts as quickly as he cut through Grison’s men.

But with each one who fell, two more appeared. The dead resurrected in an endless attack that fed the poison in his blood energy, sapping him of strength. A quick glance at his brother and he saw a similar phenomenon.

The first hint of blood seeped up the back of his throat. He coughed, the metallic taste filling his mouth. Warmth dribbled down his chin.

Silver sliced through his arm. He hissed, turning on the Fae who dealt the blow, and took his head with a single swipe of his stolen sword.

He cut the blade down another’s torso, cleaving the Fae in half.

Putting all his energy, his strength, into each blow, each parry, each defense, drove the foul curse into a frenzy, working faster within his system.

The magic in his blade began to dull, and his moves slowed.

Heat tickled his nostrils just before he felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood trail from his nose.

“You won’t survive, Thaddeus,” one of the men taunted, a fanatical smile pulling at his mouth.

Thaddeus met him with his own icy grin. “I hold no expectations of living long.”

He struck forward, his blade flaring with a new flow of magic.

A force struck him in the side. He twisted, prepared to deal a lethal blow.

Rori gasped, arching into him. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, his chest, her eyes wide, wet. ’Twas at that moment he felt a new echo of pain in his side, and his gaze dropped to her waist.

A bloody fucking Fae pulled a short sword from her flank, crimson staining the steel blade, leaving a trail of drops along the floor.

Pulsing darkness exploded within, consuming any last bit of conscience left amidst his agony.

No one touches you.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her delicate forehead creased with pain. Pain he felt differently slicing through the cursed magic that was shredding him to pieces. Electric, searing, visceral pain that echoed her beating heart.

He barely heard her plea as his magic built like a storm determined to destroy the universe.

His skin hummed, his blood burned with poison, froze with power, pulsed with each beat of his heart.

Through his tunneled vision, he detected the Fae preparing for their synchronized death blow.

Black smoky magic. Pulling back on their hands as they closed in on him.

“Thaddeus, stop!” Cael shouted.

’Twas too late .