Through Flame and Blade

Ch. 31 Come Back to Me

*Logan

A roar ripped free from Logan's throat at the sight of Chiara in danger, but then his flames—midnight black, bruised blue, and reddest wine—obscured his vision. He forced them down.

If he let his Daemonium out, he'd rip them all to pieces, including her. He smashed the head of the nearest demon against a tree, letting the body slump to the ground, never taking his eyes off Chiara.

She swung her mace, connecting with a war hammer. Iron clanged. She grunted with the effort to push her enemy back, but was clearly weaker than the demon. The other moved in, sword raised. Logan threw his short sword like a spear. It clattered off his armor, though, only grazing his shoulder.

But it got his attention.

The demon whirled to face Logan.

At the same time, Chiara lost her battle of strength against the one with the hammer and dodged to the side, coming up empty handed next to the barrels. She grabbed a bottle of rum. The demon raised his war hammer in reply, chuckling.

"No!" Logan yelled. "Not the rum!"

Logan dove past the wounded one. He rolled to standing just as the war hammer came slamming downwards right for Chiara's head. He caught it. And shoved. Then, reaching behind him, he took the bottle of rum, tore out the cork with his teeth and guzzled. He handed it back to her.

Both demons lunged in attack. He blinked. Chiara's wings whipped out to hit them both backwards, the surprise move knocking them to the ground, yelling in pain. The stench of burned demon flesh wafted up.

Logan turned, confused. "Really? You can hit with your wings? And you just now did it?"

She shrugged and tipped the bottle of rum back to drink. He froze.

Sweat glistened on her skin, rolling down her chest and along her long, sinewy limbs. Her brown hair shone nearly red in the sun and tumbled over her shoulders in messy waves. She was breathtaking. "You are so beautif—"

But by then the demons were back on their feet, leaving Logan no choice but to fight on his own. In two quick swipes of his short sword, their dead bodies slumped to the ground.

He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her deeply. Rum spiced lips and delicious sin. Her breasts pressed to his chest, exquisitely soft, and her every breath made her rub against him, tantalizing his senses.

"I could worship you here on the beach for days," he whispered.

"And I would let you." She rubbed her nose to his.

A horn sounded, too close. Right. They were being hunted.

"Fuck. No more rum, my sweetest, let's go," he said.

She reluctantly tossed the bottle, but then immediately bent to gather a glittering pile of gold coins and huge precious stones. Logan groaned as she stuffed them down the front of her skimpy top.

"No more jewels, either." He sighed. "The other guards are on their way."

There was movement ahead. Guards were closing in and blocking their exit to the next hall. Logan and Chiara ducked behind the outcrop of nearby rocks to apprise the situation.

There were few choices, and none of them good.

Fight another nearly hundred guards.

Or run for the brothel and hope they weren't seen. From there, they could hide in the tunnels.

Logan took Chiara's hand. "Ready to run?"

***

*Chiara