A Soul For Trouble

Chapter 2

Devarius Tel'brien caught the barmaid before she hit the ground, cursing under his breath. No wonder the owner called her Trouble.

She seized in his arms, her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed. His gut clenched. Loku had chosen her instead of him. Once again, he'd failed to protect the Soulbearer. There was nothing else left for him to do but guide her through the transition and take her to Gravaria for more formal training.

His gaze swept over the statue that remained of Robb's body. The poor human was never meant to bear the weight of Loku, and neither was the naïve girl he held.

Cinder growled next to him. Dark figures with glowing red eyes poured into the main room of the inn. Undead. "Great, this night just keeps getting better."

The hiss of an arrow sang in the air, and he ducked under the nearest table. He'd gone from tracking down an escaped Soulbearer to hiding from assassins and zombies. Who had Robb pissed off? He reached for the vials on his belt and launched three of them at the shadows. Grunts filled the air when they exploded. He charged, using the confusion to his advantage. A flash of golden light erupted from his palm, and the walls of the inn rattled from the impact of the undead bodies slamming against them.

"Light up, Cinder."

The wolf's growls grew louder, flames dancing off his fur. He leapt toward the nearest enemy with a snarl.

Dev picked up his sword and swung at the neck of another undead. Up close, the face appeared grey and waxy. Fresh undead. Lucky for him, that usually meant untrained and stupid, even if they were stronger than seasoned soldiers. His blade sliced through the neck of his attacker. The head rolled across the floor, and the body collapsed.

The room brightened as Cinder's flames engulfed another undead, and Dev scanned the room for the necromancer controlling the animated corpses. No sign of him. Just more undead pouring through the front door, surrounding them.

"Cinder, protect the girl."

The wolf retreated behind him and flanked the other side of Trouble.

The undead slowed their steps and formed a semi-circle around them. He counted at least a dozen in the main room of the inn. Who knew how many waited for him outside? Their emotionless faces revealed nothing of their intentions, but the glow of their red eyes intensified.

There were only three ways to kill undead: burn them, behead them, or kill the necromancer responsible for them. Words formed on his lips, and the magic within him hummed to life. It flowed from his center and down his arm like a tidal wave. As the last syllable of the spell hung in the air, a stream of fire rushed forward from his hand, igniting his attackers. They flailed backwards with a high-pitched wail. The flames from their limbs licked the curtains and wooden furniture of the room, and smoke choked the air.

Trouble's body stopped jerking. He flung her over his shoulder and ran for the kitchen. Relief washed over him when he saw the gaping back door. Lady Luck hadn't totally screwed him over tonight.

The blazing inn captured the attention of most of the bystanders on the one dirt road that ran through this town, but Dev stuck to the shadows. No need to entice them to form a lynch mob. Based on the warm reception he'd experienced earlier this evening, a foreigner like him wouldn't have a chance at justice if these simple folk got a hold of him, especially once they realized he wasn't human. He lost count how many times he'd cursed Robb for coming to this backward kingdom.

"My inn!" the burly human who tried to threaten him earlier shouted, his face red. "That witch set it on fire to spite me."

Dev turned his head to the rump that lay beside his cheek. "A witch, eh? When this is all said and done, you're going to have some explaining to do, Loku."