Stryker (Boys of Wynter Book 1)

  I had not seen or heard Paygon since I'd viewed him through the binoculars. I was certain he'd given up his hunt long before he discovered my out of the way cabin. I was heading down the mountain, mostly because it took far less energy than up. And now that I was halfway down to the valley below, I could see the lights of the distant cities, lights that ended at the coastline, at the town of Cliffmoor.

  More than once, I'd considered heading back up the mountain, back to the shelter of my cabin. But I wouldn't even be able to light a fire. Not to mention, I'd spend every minute waiting for Paygon to show up at my door and drag me off to Feenix's realm. Thanks, Father. You might have been someone's guardian angel at one time, but you sure as hell weren't ever mine.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Stryker

  My senses told me something was up before I even passed between the rundown, grime covered walls that cornered off Feenix from the riff-raff he ruled over. Several unhappy ghouls, graveyard dwellers who spent their nights trying to steal the flesh off freshly rotting corpses, were trapped in iron gibbets hanging out over the cobbled road between the walls. One of them reached out with his long, cold fingers, trying to grab my hair as I walked under it. I smacked the gibbet hard, and it swung back and forth like a bird cage on a rubber branch. The ghoul snarled angrily at me as I turned the corner.

  The inside of Feenix's lair was much more hospitable than the path leading up to it. He never suffered when it came to making himself comfortable. Two of his nymphs met me the second I stepped inside. They giggled and caressed my shoulders and arms and nosily poked at the stitches. These creatures, while pretty and delicate, were nothing like Willow. It was almost hard to believe she had any connection to them at all.

  The nymph with curly red hair ran her long tongue over the cut. I lifted my forearm to keep her from doing it a second time. She pouted red lips at me and stomped down the corridor.

  Reluctantly, I unbuckled my gun belt and dropped it on the hook in the hall. Weapons were not allowed in Feenix's lair because our fearless leader was anything but fearless. In fact, for an immortal, he was a big fucking coward. Feenix was sitting in his main chamber on the ridiculous red and black throne he'd had constructed for himself. Tall pillar candles that were scented with perfume in a worthless attempt to mask his permanent stench cast wavering shadows on the dark blue walls. He really was a pompous asshole and an ugly one at that. His bulbous lips closed around a grape that a nymph was hand feeding him.

  "Stryker," he said without swallowing his mouth of food. He waved his ring covered fingers at me.

  I stepped closer. He shooed the nymphs away as he squinted at the cut on my chest. He stared at it long as if inspecting it.

  "Did you call me here to count my stitches or was there something else? Because I'm off the clock and ready to get out of this hell pit."

  His eyes shrank to angry slits as he rested his hands on the gold carved gargoyles that adorned the arms of his throne. "Always the smart ass, Stryker. Nessa should have taken the strap to you boys. You all grew up too fucking sure of yourselves."

  I gritted my teeth together. It seemed he was prodding me, knowing full well talking badly about Nessa would anger me.

  He noticed it was working. "Nessa. That old witch. Too bad she's half human. Otherwise she could have beat that old mortality sentence. Guess it was that human half that coddled you boys too much. She would have done better by you if she'd beat you every night instead of filling your bellies with home baked pie and charming stories." He reached up a long, dirt filled fingernail and used the filthy tip of it to clean something out from between his crooked gray teeth. "She's dying, you know? Cancer or one of those trite diseases you mortals can't seem to avoid."

  My teeth stacked together harder, and as much as I tried not to flinch at his words, they struck me like a fist in the gut.

  "Oh, you didn't know," he pretended to look contrite, a look that just didn't work on his hideous face.

  "What do you want, Feenix?"

  I saw a large shadow cast on the wall behind his throne and heard the familiar clacking of the claws on Paygon's necklace. My defenses went into overdrive. I curled my hands into fists, waiting for whatever Feenix had in store. It was obvious I wasn't there for a chat.

  Feenix sat forward. "You allowed a sickle clawed wraith to enter the mortal world. How the hell did that happen?" His sickening, fake tone was gone, replaced by the chilled, hardened tone I was more familiar with. I preferred it.

  "I don't know. We'd passed through and suddenly the thing was floating behind us. It never got into town though. I killed it up on the mountain."

  "Right." He pointed his finger at the cut. "But not before it took a chunk of your flesh and left you with its poison. "

  I held out my arms. "As you can see, I made it down the mountain just fine. I was back on duty tonight."

  "Yes, you were. But that's not why I brought you here. Obviously you didn't stitch yourself up."

  "How do you know? I'm pretty good with a needle."

  His fist pounded the head of the carved gargoyle. The impact sent the two nymphs kneeling at his feet off in different directions.

  "I know a half-breed took care of you. She's part angel, part nymph. Willow."

  Hearing her name come from his drooling mouth made me want to hurl a fist into his rotting teeth just to stop him from saying it again.

  "Ah ha, from the way you're holding yourself and balling your hands, I'd say I was right. Well, all you have to do is tell me exactly where she is up on that mountain, and you can be on your way."

  "No idea what you're talking about."

  Feenix stared at me long and hard and then, with a barely perceptible motion of his hand, he signaled his brother to drop the chains. Shackles wrapped instantly around my wrists like steel snakes. Another flicker of movement, and my arms were yanked above my head and my feet were lifted off the floor.

  I didn't struggle. Instead, I stared down at Feenix hard and determined, just to let him know he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to me and I still wouldn't talk. Paygon walked around in front of me holding the metal rod that had sharp metal teeth on the end of it. Paygon had lovingly named it Pet. His hand rubbed along the end that had been worn rough with a sander, giving him a better grip on the thing when he used it to beat people.

  I stared down into Paygon's ugly face. "Do you hold your cock that sweetly, asshole?" I knew my question would trigger him, but I was ready for him. As predicted, Paygon's eyes yellowed with rage and he lunged at me. As he pulled his arm back to swing the metal rod at me, I kicked both my legs out hard, hitting him square in the chest. As he stumbled back, my foot curled around the leather strap of his prized necklace. The claws clattered to the ground and scattered.

  Paygon's bald head looked shiny in the candle light as he stared down in disbelief at the mosaic of claws.

  My shoulders were feeling the weight of my body. "Oops."

  The mocking comment was all he needed. Spittle flew from his ugly, gray lips as he roared. He circled around with the metal rod and slammed it against my back. The sharp metal teeth ground into my skin, leaving a stinging stripe of small holes from my shoulder to my side. Hot blood trickled down my skin and dripped on the floor beneath me. My hands were starting to grow numb from the shackles and from being stretched far above my heart.

  "I c—could save us b—both some time here, Feenix," I stuttered between catching my breath from the pain. "I don't know any half-breed named Willow, so just have shit-for-brains here kill me or let me go."

  I saw the tiniest flash of movement from Feenix and braced myself for another slam. I fisted my hands above the shackles. They cut into the skin of my wrists as I brought my legs up and kicked out at Paygon. He swung out of the way and came back around with another skin ripping blow to my back. This time it took me a few minutes to clear the spots from my eyes as the pain jolted through my entire body. I hadn't recovered completely from my run in with the poisonous wraith, and I w
as feeling each blow ten-fold because of my weakened state.

  Feenix was going to big lengths for information. He usually only saved torture for people who tried to undermine his power. Why the hell was he so determined to find Willow?

  I was losing feeling in my arms. Each hard earned breath assured me Paygon had broken a few ribs. The nymphs had gathered around to watch me get pummeled. My focus cleared, and I looked at Feenix. His mouth was pulled tight in anger.

  "What the hell do you want with this half-breed when you're already surrounded with more nymphs than you can possibly satisfy with that shriveled, old dick of yours?"

  Feenix motioned to the red haired nymph who had licked my wound on the way in. She was new to his lair, and there was definitely something off about her. Her eyes were dead pools of blue as if she was something far more sinister than a mere meadow nymph.

  The nymph's laugh sent a chill up my aching spine as her thin, white fingers set to work untying my buckskins. I pulled my curious gaze from the mass of red curls on her head. Paygon was wearing an even uglier than usual grin on his fleshy lips, and Feenix watched with interest, tapping his long nails on the head of the gargoyle.

  "If a blow job is your new form of punishment, then I won't complain." I joked, but I knew there was something far less desirable than a blow job waiting for me. The nymph reached in with cold fingers and wrapped her hands around my cock. She pulled it free and looked up at me with a disappointed pout.

  "Sorry, darlin', you're just not my type."

  She stared up at me with her dead eyes and gripped my cock tighter in her fingers. She didn't draw her cold gaze away from me as her tongue flicked against my soft cock.

  "You'll have to excuse me if I'm not in the mood, and your snake tongue isn't going to help."

  I clenched my jaw as her mouth opened, and she stuffed my cock into it. She gripped me tight enough to cut off blood flow. Her blue eyes still blinked up at me, even with her mouth filled with my cock.

  Feenix rose from his throne and walked closer. He stared down at the red headed nymph with her plump lips wrapped around me.

  "I don't believe you've ever met, Jola. She's part nymph and part something else. Just not sure what—" He nodded to the nymph, who lifted her lips and bared a gnarly set of sharp teeth.

  I could hear my own teeth grinding together as if I had rocks between them. I held my breath but reminded myself to stay cool. It was the only way I'd make it out of this with my cock still attached to my body. And I really liked it there.

  Feenix patted my bloodied back and then looked disgusted at his palm. He whistled for a nymph to clean it. As he waited, I knew he was watching me, but I hadn't taken my eyes off the toothy mouth wrapped around my cock.

  "Did I mention Jola bites?" Feenix's snide remark and the thought of those pointy teeth ripping into me made every muscle in my body tighten.

  I needed to regain control and think my way out of a really ugly and impossible situation. The nymph with the dead eyes looked as if she would take great pleasure ending her tease with a vicious bite.

  "Sorry, I had to resort to this, guard," Feenix said, "but I knew you'd withstand any punishment Paygon handed out. Still, every man has an Achilles heel," he sneered. "Even if it's not at the end of his foot."

  "Why do you want this woman so badly?"

  "She was promised to me by her father."

  It was hard to comprehend anything being said with the nymph's teeth grazing my flesh, but as I straightened out his comment, I blurted out the next words without thinking. "Why the hell would an archangel hand you his daughter?"

  "Archangel?" Feenix circled around and played with the red curls on the nymph's head. It made her giggle, which made the blade thin teeth dig deeper into my cock. I gritted my teeth at the thought of her biting down on me. Feenix stared up at me as I hung from his ceiling. "I don't think I ever mentioned an archangel. I guess that means you've been lying. You were with Willow."

  His dark eyes were like black slate as his brows lowered over them. "If you touched her, you lowlife wraith hunter, I will see you hang in one of those gibbets until the flesh decays from your body." He stepped back to give the nymph room to work. "So, will you tell me where she is or do I have Jola give you one of her special blow jobs?"

  I stared back at Feenix to assure him that nothing was going to get me to talk.

  "Fine, this should be interesting." He headed back to his throne.

  I looked down at the nymph. Her lips were peeled back while she held my cock between her teeth.

  "You should probably know that if you bite me, my first automatic reflex will be to jerk my knee up. And you can be sure that when my knee hits your chin, you head is going to snap back on your neck and it will kill you. It might even pop that stupid little head of yours right off that thin neck. Just so you understand the consequences."

  Apparently, a good bite wasn't as much fun if her head was going to pop off. Her lips relaxed, and she retracted her pointy teeth. She removed her mouth from my cock.

  "I said bite him," Feenix snarled.

  The nymph lifted her chin and looked at him. "You bite him." She flew from the room, and I decided I liked her just a bit more than when she had her teeth in my cock.

  Feenix's face was rarely any color except gray, but the red of rage flooded his sallow cheeks. "Take him down and get him the fuck out of here. And, brother, go back to the mountain. Take some hellhounds with you and don't fucking come back until you have the girl." He stood up from his throne and left the room.

  Paygon grinned up at me and lifted his metal rod. I flinched as he pretended to swing it at me. The cuffs opened and I dropped to my knees on the floor. I rubbed my wrists as I pushed to my feet.

  "Always a fucking pleasure, Paygon."

  I headed out and picked up my pace to the river dock. I needed to get out of the underworld and back to the mortal world. I needed to get to Willow before Paygon.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Stryker

  Rogue threw his massive head back and let out one stretched howl before I felt his back shrink down to the leather seat of my motorcycle and his long legs curl into wheels. I leaned forward, twisted the throttle and took off through the forest. As badly as I wanted to turn north and fly up into the mountains and head straight to Willow's cabin, I knew that was what Paygon was waiting for. And while he was as stupid as a fucking rock, with hellhounds at his side, it would be easy for him to pick up my scent and follow my tracks. For now, Willow was safer without any big arrows, mainly me, pointing out the way to her remote cabin.

  I knew Jemma still talked to Sabre. I needed to get an urgent message to Sabre, letting her know that she had to get Willow down off the mountain tonight.

  Rock-’n’-roll thundered from the Seven Sins as I pulled up to the bar. I took a shirt out of the saddle bag on my bike. With all that had happened and with my mind desperately searching for a plan to save Willow from a fate that was, frankly, worse than death, I'd forgotten about the punctures Paygon's metal rod had left on my back. I winced as I pulled the flannel shirt up over them and buttoned it.

  Maximus, Flint and Wilder were still inside. Jemma served great beer and affordable whiskey, but she hadn't ever invested much in decor or lighting. And rightly so. Her clientele weren't exactly the type to complain about ripped leather seating, splintery benches or dim, yellow lighting. As long as the head on the beer was full and the whiskey could be bought by the bottle, we were happy customers.

  A few members of a local motorcycle club had stopped in for some beer. They were a decent bunch of guys, who mostly rode for adventure. They thought the Boys of Wynter was just another MC. They would have been more than a little shocked to discover that, just minutes before, the Harley I rode up on had been a massive, rearing stallion. They had no idea that the four of us had just spent the last twenty-four hours blowing the heads off wraiths. In fact, they'd probably be pretty fucking surprised to find out that there even were things called wraiths.
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  At least half a dozen of the Wynter Fare were hanging out for the night. Flint and Wilder were already entertaining three of them with their usual over hyped stories. The three empty pitchers of beer on the table made it clear that my friends hadn't been too worried about my unexpected meeting with the boss.

  Maximus was sitting up on a barstool talking to Mirra and Kay. He saw me out of the corner of his eye and reached for the bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of him. He handed it back to me. "You made it. What the hell did Feenix want?"

  Mirra and Kay looked up expectantly, waiting for my story. I cast a glance over at Maximus, letting him know I'd tell him when he was alone. I grabbed the neck of the whiskey bottle and downed a few long gulps before climbing an empty stool at the bar. I leaned over the counter, forgetting about the broken ribs. I sucked in a breath until the pain subsided.

  Jemma caught me holding the breath. The silver gray streaks in her otherwise black hair were getting thicker and lighter. You didn't have to look too long to know that in her younger years and, even now, in her older years, she was a head turner.

  She placed a glass in front of me for the whiskey. Jemma didn't run a posh bar, but she always cringed at people sucking down booze from the bottle.

  I poured myself a glass of whiskey. "I need to talk to you, Jem. In private." As I spoke, her brown eyes seemed to dart past me to something over my shoulder. "Jemma? Did you hear me?"

  She pulled her attention back to me. "Oh, right, sorry. It's just there has been this odd little customer sitting in the back corner table with a hood up over his head. He hasn't ordered anything. I'm just keeping an eye on him."

  I glanced through the crowd and saw a small person nearly hidden by the clunky pine table. There was a hood covering his head and face. "He doesn't look too menacing. Can we talk? It's important."