Mithras advanced and I took a step back. And then another. He towered over me, nearly eight feet tall. Jesus, he could change his form at will, his arms bulging even bigger, his thighs the size of small tree trunks. I dug the balls of my feet into the soles of my shoes and forced myself to hold my ground. Mithras held out his right hand and as it curled into a fist, a long wooden spear with a wicked steel blade manifested from nothing, shooting to its full six feet of length in the blink of an eye.
Okay, that was impressive.
He held the staff in both hands and rushed me with a flourish of movement that was little more than a flash of color. I needed the boost of skill and confidence that the daggers gave me, but as far as my reach went, I couldn’t compete with the long spear shaft. Mithras struck out and the butt of it caught me in the ribs, a sharp jab that sent me flat on my ass. He twirled the weapon until it was perpendicular to the ground and stabbed down. I rolled to my left, barely avoiding the sharp spaded tip of the blade that Mithras buried a good three inches into the marble floor.
I tried to shuck my corporeal form, but it wasn’t going to happen. Mithras had the temple locked down, holding me in my body. From a low crouch, I launched myself at him, ducking below the wide upward arc of the spear shaft. The daggers directed my aim and I struck out with my right arm, a quick stab that sunk deep into the flesh between his ribs.
“I’ll gut you for that,” Mithras growled as he spun away.
The blade released from his flesh and another surge of mindless battle lust settled over me, the daggers urging me to fight. Where was Ash? Was he still held fast in the grip of the frozen soldiers? I needed to know he was safe, but Mithras fought with such unrestrained vigor that I barely had the opportunity to take a deep breath let alone shift my gaze. He held the spear in both hands, coming at me with the blade and swinging around to follow up the assault with the butt. My arms ached as I parried blow after blow, right, left, right…
“Mother fucker!” I cried out as the thick blade cut across my upper arm, opening a wide gash. Blood trickled down my arm as the wound began to heal, the skin pulling as it knitted back together.
The blades gave me a personal advantage, in fact, I had no doubt that without them I’d be dead by now. Mithras’s assault was relentless, his stamina unending. His speed, agility, strength all connected him to something not simply otherworldly, but divine. My confidence began to tank, despite the daggers as I wondered, was it even possible to kill a god? He stabbed down and I lunged out of the way, avoiding the spear blade by less than an inch. His eyes flashed, one a blue gas flame, and the other an emerald glinting in the sun. A battle shout erupted from his powerful chest, shaking the temple to its foundation.
“I will drink your blood, defiler,” he spat. “And I’ll mount your head on a pike as a warning to other ambitious females who dare walk through these doors.”
Come the fuck
on
. “Your chauvinism is getting old, Mithras.” My breath sped in my chest and my lungs burned from my efforts. Still, I goaded him. “Admit that you can’t handle a strong woman and get over yourself. Ain’t nobody got time for your shit.”
My trash talk spurred his anger. Exactly the result I was hoping for. Time to wrap this job up.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When I sparred with the Reaper in Kieran’s den, I’d held back. Fought against the daggers, refusing to give myself over to that power. Now, though, all bets were off. Control had always been my number one hang-up. That being, I couldn’t relinquish it no matter the situation. What Xander had given me was a way to let go. The daggers were my permission to accept help without losing face in the presence of whoever might be near to see it. He knew the shame I’d endured after Kade’s attack, and that those I respected had witnessed my weakness. The daggers were the perfect gift, really. And they proved that Xander knew me better than I gave him credit for.
Power vibrated up my arms and this time, I surrendered to the sensation. Mithras had a good two and a half feet of height on me. He was twice as wide. Each swing of my blade was a futile attempt to score his flesh. A toothpick lashing out at an ancient oak. The daggers urged my arms where they needed to go and I slipped into a comfortable rhythm. Mithras was still faster, though, and he caught me in the side of the head with the blunt end of the spear.
The blow sent me reeling backward and if the daggers weren’t practically melded to my palms, they would have flown across the temple. I skidded to a stop a good ten feet from where I’d started, flat on my back and seeing stars.
Son of a bitch
. That one was going to hurt in the morning. I rolled on my back, using my legs as leverage and catapulted myself to my feet. I took a couple of staggering steps, barely regaining my balance before Mithras swept my feet out from under me.
Ouch
.
He swung the staff around with a quick jab and sunk the blade into my flesh at the junction of my shoulder and chest.
Holyfuckingshit!
Pain radiated from the wound, so intense that my stomach heaved. Mithras turned the blade, opening a gaping hole in my chest before he removed it with a sickening slurp as the suction of my body tried to hold on to the blade.
Yuck
. I rolled away before he could bring the weapon down again, instinct urging me to leave the prison of my body behind.
I wish
…
IwishIwishIwishIwishIwish
… Damn it! My left hand was almost numb from the cold as though my ring was cranking into overdrive in an attempt to give me what I needed. But like an engine with a blown transmission, I could stomp on the gas pedal all I wanted. It wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
“Darian, look out!”
The sound of Asher’s voice was a godsend. But my relief that he was still alive was short-lived. A booted foot made contacted with my ribs before I could get my ass out of the way. Bones cracked from the impact, a crunch that vibrated up through my sternum. Breath rushed from my lungs in a loud
whoof!
that I felt all the way to my goddamned toes. I tried to suck in air but I couldn’t draw a breath.
God, please, just give me a second, here. I needed a time-out. A memory tickled at the back of my brain, one from a year or so ago when Tyler had constructed an invisible barrier of protection over me. I looked through the haze of pain clouding my vision to see Mithras twirling the spear high over his head. Another second and the spade-shaped blade would be plowing through my cranium. Probably not the kind of damage even my quick healing body would recover from.
I wish I had a barrier of protection over me
.
I didn’t know how Ty had done it, but I prayed the focus of my thoughts in addition to my wording was specific enough. Another shock of cold snaked up my arm right as Mithras brought the spear down. It bounced off of what appeared to be thin air and clattered to the floor several feet from where he stood. Advantage: me.
My ribs were still knitting together but my shoulder had healed to the point that it no longer felt like it was disconnected from my arm. I didn’t have time to wait for everything to heal, though. I needed to kill Mithras while I had my chance. The barrier disappeared once I steered my focus back to the fight. Apparently, I wasn’t as good at multitasking as I thought. Mithras held his hands out, palms up and two long daggers appeared in each fist. Damn, I really wanted to know how he did that.
I cut and stabbed, parried and jabbed. Spun away once and again, my speed increasing as I gave more control to the daggers. I caught him on the chest, a ribbon of crimson blooming from the long slice and on his forearm, a cut so deep I swore I could see the bone. He healed as quickly as I did, though. Quicker. Which meant if I was going to kill him, I’d have to take the bastard’s head from his shoulders.
He kicked out and caught me on the hip, but it was nothing more than a graze and I merely spun away. As I regained my balance Mithras threw his head back and bellowed to the sky, and with each vibration of his gravelly shout, his human form sloughed away by slow degrees. Well…most of it sloughed away.
Horns sprouted from the crown of his head, elongating and curling outward from his skull as his nose became more snout-like. Thick, black hair sprouted over his skin and his thighs and calves bulged as his muscles became more dense, corded. His booted feet morphed, clicking on the marble floor as they transformed into hooves. If it was possible, he grew even taller, his body thicker, stacked with powerful muscle. Mithras, the warrior’s god, the one to whom the ancient Romans sacrificed bulls as part of their ancient rites had become a…Minotaur.
Okay, that was just
weird
.
Each stomp of his hooves shook the floor beneath me, each chuff of breath expelled from his snout created a warm breeze that stirred the air around me.
Gross
. He swiped out one massive arm creating a whooshing sound that made me damned thankful the blow hadn’t connected with my face. I didn’t know much about the old gods, their powers, or rules, but seriously, there was no way Mithras should have been allowed to run rampant on the earth. Wasn’t there some sort of old god’s retirement home he could go to? In a realm far from this one?
Rather than revel in his glory days, Mithras had come back with a vengeance, doing whatever he could to revive his dead religion. Ty had been right. Mithras needed to be put down. ASAP. I only hoped I could get the job done.
The daggers lent me some mad skills in the kicking ass department, but they wouldn’t cut through the bull’s thick neck. Beheading the bastard was my only option and for that, I’d need my katana. I dodged a downward cut and fell into retreat as a plan formed in my mind. The daggers were bound to my will, shared my intent. No one else could touch them but me. What would happen if I buried them to their hilts in Mithras’s chest?
No time like the present to find out. I drew in a deep breath, held it in my lungs and steadied myself as best I could, considering there was a four hundred pound Minotaur charging toward me. This was my Hail Mary. Time to let the ball fly.
I aimed for his heart and lungs, pulled back my arms and let the daggers sail. They seemed reluctant to leave my grasp, but they were bound to do my will and so I focused my thoughts on my target and intent. In the blink of an eye, they hit their mark and the charging bull took two staggering steps backward from the impact. He pulled at the hilts, but thanks to the wards, not even the god could override the power in the daggers. They couldn’t be removed from his chest, and likewise, every time he tried to wrap a meaty fist around one of the hilts, his arm was jolted back violently.
Not wasting a single second, I drew my sword from the scabbard at my back, reveling in the familiar grip. The blade truly was an extension of my arm, a part of me after having fought with it for so long. I dug my feet into my boots and pushed off at a run, sprinting toward the struggling Minotaur while his attention was still divided. A bellow of pain erupted from his wide mouth, the force of it painful to my ears.
With a shout, I leapt into the air, both hands wrapped around the grip of the sword. I swung out with as much force as I could muster, striking the corded sinew of Mithras’s neck. The blade sliced through him in a glint of steel and the bull’s massive head toppled from his shoulders as his body crashed to the floor like I’d felled an ancient redwood.
A burst of light so bright I had to shield my eyes erupted from the lifeless body at my feet and shot straight up through the ceiling in a blast of dry heat. Just as quickly as it manifested, the light disappeared, leaving in its wake an eerie stillness that tightened my chest. Had I truly killed Mithras? He was a god, after all. Whether I’d banished his soul from this plane or not, the body that had housed him was dead and right now, I was counting it as a win.
I turned to find Asher at the rear of the temple, still held in place by Mithras’s frozen troops. It was a strange sight indeed, and Ash looked a bit put out by the fact that he couldn’t move. “A little help here?”
I put my wishing skills to the test and thought,
I wish that Mithras’s men would step away from Asher
. As one, the soldiers and priests took two steps back, but despite the struggle apparent in their eyes, they couldn’t move of their own volition.
Ash stood and stretched his neck from side to side as he crossed to the temple where I stood next to Mithras’s body. “I don’t know what you’re doing or how you’re doing it, Darian. But I want you to teach me.”
I pulled the daggers from the Minotaur’s chest, marveling at the fact that the blades were clean and shining without a drop of blood to mar their surfaces. Too. Weird. I slid them into the scabbards, and a momentary shiver of disappointment passed over my flesh. When I got home, I was stowing them back in their boxes, and that’s where they were going to stay for a good long while. They’d gotten me out of a jam, but their unchecked power still frightened the hell out of me.
“I gotta say, Darian, you’re fun to watch in action.” Ash nudged Mithras’s body with the toe of his boot as though wary I’d been able to put him down for good. “And I have
got
to get a set of those daggers. Damn.”
His enthusiasm was cute and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that while cool as fuck, he definitely did
not
want a set of those daggers. I brought my sword up high and brought it down on the tip of one of Mirthras’s massive horns, taking a chunk about as long as my hand. I didn’t know if the client would accept my explanation of how shit went down, but this was the proof of death he was going to get.
“What are we going to do about them?”
I followed Ash’s gaze to the stock-still forms that I’d somehow managed to put into some sort of magical stasis. What was I going to do with them? Killing them in cold blood was out of the question, but releasing them to make it a fair fight was way more than my tired ass could handle right now. Even with Asher’s help. “Honestly, I have no idea. Normally, I’d leave this to Tyler to mop up for me, but since he’s not here, I guess we’ll leave them.”