Munro (Immortals After Dark 18) - Page 113

Pride mingled with anguish as she mouthed, “Traps.”

He tore his gaze away from her to face down his enemy and buy more time. “What will you do to us?”

“The Forgotten remember! We will have your . . .” He trailed off as the oak trees all around him started to move. Or they appeared to. The vassaled Lykae snapped their fangs and scanned their surroundings.

Munro couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You did tell me guile will always best brute strength. Thanks for the tip. I believe I told you that somehow, someway, I would get the upper hand.”

Jels looked confused.

A warlock scream rang out. Then another. One by one, warlocks vanished in the fog, disappearing into the oaks.

Jels yelled, “What is this?”

“Retribution. Amazingly, my mate and I doona have the most claim to it.”

Nymphs had descended on this grove in number. With their bodies painted like bark, tree nymphs teleported from tree to tree. Cloud nymphs glided in on the fog, while water nymphs lurked in the murky bayou.

The warlocks faced off against these new enemies, firing their beams in all directions.

If Munro had difficulty making out the nymphs through the fog, the warlocks would have no chance of seeing them. He scented Iona and her daughters nearby and could almost pity Jels.

“They came,” Kereny said. She was between contractions, looking in less pain. It had been her idea to call the nymphs and offer herself and Munro as bait.

Iona had told him that her kind avoided confrontation, but she would consider the proposal and give him an answer in a decade or so. Kereny had called the nymph back and used her general’s voice: “You said you’re in our everlasting debt? Then repay it. Munro told me that nymphs aren’t fighters, but just because you choose not to fight doesn’t mean you can’t. If humans can take on immortals, I know you can. So I need you to commit a round-the-clock guard detail and troops to me. Today.”

And they had.

“Aye,” Munro said now. “They secretly kept watch because of you.”

More nymphs perched on limbs, using vines to rappel down and snatch their victims. They melded the warlocks into the trees, then released them within the trunks to solidify and be crushed. Warlock body parts protruded from the trees—juddering legs and blindly grasping hands. The oaks oozed blood.

“Kill them all!” Jels commanded the vassals.

Howls sounded as the newlings gave chase. Yet the nymphs disappeared, baffling the beasts. The females emerged and receded into oaks farther away, drawing the vassals from the settlement.

Some of the warlocks created portals to retreat, but the nymphs snared them before they reached their rifts. Others ran from the woods straight for the bayou. Water nymphs carried them to their deaths.

Jels fled, firing beams over his shoulder. He rushed between two trees, wasn’t watching—

Dryads lunged from the trunks to seize him.

“No! Release me!” He tried to fire on them, but they’d quickly bound his hands behind his back with vine.

When they shoved him down on a large oak stump, the murderous warlock screamed, “You can’t strike against me! Nïx guaranteed my protection!”

Iona surfaced from another oak, her daughters trailing her in a grim procession.

As they circled Jels, he thrashed against his captors, gaining no ground. “Nïx ordered her alliance not to attack!”

Iona told him, “We belong to no alliance, and we follow no orders. Warlock, we nymphs can do whatever we like.” The kindhearted innkeeper had turned into a pitiless avenger. “And now you will pay for your crimes against us.” One of her daughters handed her a sickle.

“You can’t do this to me!” Jels screamed as she raised the weapon above his chest, above his heart. “I’m protected!”

“Apparently not enough.” She began to carve.

“NOOOO!” the archwarlock screeched.

Remind me no’ to get on their bad side. Munro had spent centuries around the nymphs, yet he’d had no idea they could be so fierce.

Blood spurted as Iona removed Jels’s heart. But the screaming immortal lived yet.

She laid aside the sickle and collected more vine to wrap around his neck. Lips drawn back from her teeth, she strangled him till his yells turned to gurgles.

The archwarlock’s existence was coming to an ignominious end. His eyes slid shut, and his mouth opened on a last scream. Yet then a high-pitched whine sounded as air streamed toward him, rushing between his bloody lips into his body.

The witches’ protection magic around the settlement became palpable. It glowed, then dimmed, shooting to the archwarlock as if drawn to an imploding star.

“Munro?” Kereny asked. “What’s happening?”

His phone heaved against his pants, his pocket glowing from a burst of heat. No longer did he sense magic from his phone. “All the spells in the vicinity are surging to Jels.”

Kereny’s cuff glowed as well, the metal vibrating. Her arm was lifted, tugged toward that black-hole void.

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