“Shit!” he yelled.
The ropes went taut and yanked Diego off the ledge. Cassidy clung to him, her claws digging deep, Diego clenching his teeth against the pain.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my love.
Diego didn’t unclench as they swung over empty space and were hauled up onto the muddy ground of Faerie. The misty gate snicked shut, and the dry desert cliffs were gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Faerie was muddy and cold. Diego lay flat on his back, tied with ropes that had fastened themselves around him, with a snarling wildcat on his chest. Cassidy splayed herself protectively over Diego, growling at the Fae warriors that ringed them.
They looked like extras in a Knights of the Round Table movie, Diego thought. Shining mail, long braided hair, black surcoats, swords and bows, and hard expressions.
The light was gray like dawn, but Diego saw that the land was bathed in fog. Not a pea-souper, but enough mist to darken the sky and slide between the trees of the dense wood at the bottom of the hill.
One of the warriors, who had the stance of a leader or a general, spoke to Diego. Spoke at him. Demands, questions, who knew?
“Do you know what they’re saying?” he whispered to Cassidy.
She only growled again and lowered her head to his chest.
The general gave a curt command. Three came at Cassidy, swords drawn.
Diego, who still had his hand around his Sig, pointed it. “No. Back!”
The warriors hesitated. The general snapped something at Diego.
Diego shook his head. “Lo siento, no comprende.”
The general looked slightly surprised, as much as his granite face let him, then he came back with a halting sentence that sounded Italian. No, not Italian. Latin.
Great.
He wished Cassidy would shift and help him out with the linguistics. At the moment, Cassidy’s claws were raking down his chest, raising all kinds of welts, but she wasn’t trying to hurt him. She was cutting the ropes.
The general noticed this and motioned his men forward. Diego brought up the Sig.
“You touch her, and I will shoot you.”
The general snatched a crossbow from the warrior next to him. Diego fired, his sharpshooting skills wrenching the crossbow out of the general’s hands. But the bolt had already flown and struck Diego’s wrist.The bolt glanced across his skin instead of embedding itself, but it dug deep enough in passing. Diego yelled, his gun falling from nerveless fingers.
Cassidy attacked. She landed on the general, all four feet on his chest, claws ripping. Her Collar went off, electricity arcing around her neck, but she didn’t stop.
She fought for a few seconds more before two of the Fae grabbed her and wrenched her away from the general. Cassidy landed on the ground, shuddering with the Collar’s pain, while the Fae collectively laughed at her.
Diego was going to pass out. He didn’t want to, but he had an arrow, the end of which had snapped off, stuck into him, and pain was catching up to him. Blood loss, shock. All there.
“Cassidy,” he said.
Before he blacked out, he saw Cassidy crawl to him and once more drape herself over him. At least she’s warm was Diego’s last coherent thought for a while.
Cassidy didn’t speak the languages of the Fae fluently, but she knew a little from the Shifter rituals and Shifter lore. She got the gist of the word slave, referring to her, and fun for what they wanted to do with Diego. One suggested they make Cassidy hunt Diego herself, but the general said no.
The Shifter female would become a fighting slave for the clan leader, he said, and the human would be put to death for his dealings with the dokk alfar.
Cassidy shifted to her human form. “He came through the gate by mistake,” she said. “Send him back and leave him alone.”
They didn’t understand, and Cassidy didn’t know enough to find the words in Fae.
“We’re friends of the warrior called Fionn Cillian,” she said. “Heard of him?”
From their reaction, they had. Also from their reaction, maybe that hadn’t been a smart thing to say.
Four of the warriors dragged Cassidy off Diego. She fought, but between the chain mail that protected them and the continuing pain from her Collar, she did little damage. The others cut the ropes from Diego that Cassidy hadn’t finished shredding. One kicked Diego’s gun away into the mud, then that Fae jerked back his booted foot as though even the small contact burned him.
The warriors staked out the unconscious Diego and got out their knives. Cassidy wrenched herself from her captors and shifted back to wildcat as she leapt onto Diego, shielding him with her body.
“You have mate bond?” a new voice asked.
Another warrior had joined the general. He spoke English with a thick accent and, though he wore silver mail, he wasn’t armed.
“He asks me to translate,” the new Fae said. “I know some human languages.”
Translate this. Cassidy curled her lip into a snarl. She’d spray him if she could.
The general began speaking rapidly without cracking a smile. The translator said for him, “It is known that the Shifters believe they form magical bonds with their mates. That the bond is so great they will die for one another. His lordship wishes to see if this is true.”
Oh, I’d die for Diego, all right. Cassidy knew she would, in a heartbeat. But I’d rather kill you instead.
Cassidy didn’t bother shifting to answer or even acknowledging she was being spoken to. The translator and the general didn’t seem to care.