Page 169 of Vampire's Choice
The detonation catapulted him through the air, but he landed on his feet and closed back in like a freight train, with a bloody-fanged snarl.
While he didn’t want to disrespect the perseverance, Merc took two of them before Daegan reached them. More cracking, breaking, dropping of bodies. One, taking advantage of his distraction with other opponents, got in a lucky fire spell, burning one wing all the way to the connecting muscle in his back, a searing pain. It hurt like hell but more importantly, it grounded him, a tactical disadvantage.
Then Gideon shocked the Fae—Merc was impressed himself—by coming out of nowhere to jump on his back and plunge his knife into his side like his arm was driven by a jackhammer. As they tumbled to the ground, the Fae twisted, wrapping a barbed wire of flame around the closest thing he could reach, Gideon’s chest and right leg. In less than a blink, the human would be in pieces.
Merc yanked the Fae away from Gideon. Though only one wing was functional, the force of his pull took them a few feet in the air and then Merc fell to his back, the Fae writhing upon him. He cracked his neck when the Fae had wrapped that barbed wire around him. Though the flames fizzled out, the burn felt as deep in his flesh as Gideon’s knife blade in the Fae’s.
It didn’t matter. The Fae was disabled.
Merc rose, ignoring the pain, the odd flap of his burned wing. Pallas’s supporters littered the clearing. Some draped over Grollner’s vampires in those weirdly intimate poses that Merc supposed always happened on battlefields.
Daegan knelt next to Gideon, a hand behind his head, his wrist to his mouth, giving him blood to counter the effect of the Fae’s fire. Daegan probably needed some blood himself. They’d all taken hits. Lady Lyssa and Jacob would tend to one another the same way, and Jacob or Gideon would donate to Mason if needed, though the male vampire stood next to Lyssa on his own two feet.
Maddock had collapsed on a stump, his hand over an injury in his side that soaked his fingers with blood, but he was already doing an incantation to stem the blood flow and seal the wound. He would hold until they could deal with things here. Merc would get him back to Charlie for the healing he needed.
Then Merc noticed all of them were staring at him. He hadn’t let on how much stronger he would be in a fight with the Fae. Or that their magic couldn’t pin him down, block or hold him, even if it could burn or cause injury. But in fairness, he hadn’t known that himself, until he tested it. Or the upper limits of his speed, which had made even the Fae unable to see his actions to remove Kane and Farida from their bonds.
He guessed he’d finally have to acknowledge he really was more angel than anything else. Fuck. While advantageous for this fight, he wasn’t looking forward to admitting Marcellus was right.
However, it might give the senior angel a small smile, and he needed that, with his heart sick over his fortune teller’s plight. Because of that, Merc supposed he would suffer the blow to his pride.
A thought struck him then, and he turned, trying to see, an absurd reaction, because even an angel couldn’t twist his head around like an owl. He reached behind him, under the wing.
“It’s still there,” Lyssa said. His gaze snapped to her. “The burn has seared the design, but your flesh will heal and restore what’s there. Nothing can remove a binding symbol on a servant’s flesh except a removal of the three marks.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t even disappear if you become a vampire yourself,” Jacob added. He met Lyssa’s gaze and brushed a lock of hair from her bloodstained cheek.
A groan distracted them, a helpless flailing from one flaccid limb. Merc stalked over and picked up Pallas by the throat. The male was bloody, sweating, putrid. Merc had broken his body badly, but the bitch of immortality was he’d heal despite it. Pallas’s eyes burned with hate.
“You are no incubus,” he rasped.
“Yes, I am. But I’m something else, too.” Merc’s grip tightened. “You harmed my female. You took her parents from her.”
What he felt wasn’t just on Ruth’s behalf. Elisa had given him a hug. His first platonic, affectionate, just-because hug. She’d whispered in his ear, “Take care of our girl.” Like she believed he could. And would.
Pallas had no idea who he was talking about, but it didn’t matter. Merc wasn’t saying it for him. “I expect killing him and his supporters would cause problems with King Tabor?”
That question was directed to Lyssa, who’d come with Mason and Jacob to stand beside Merc. Daegan assisted Gideon to his feet, so they, too, could join them. “Are you getting tired of holding him up like that?” Maddock asked from the nearby stump.
“Not particularly.” Merc shook the Fae like a baby rattle, and Pallas choked, blood and something more unsightly coming out of his mouth. “He’s light. See?”
Lyssa looked not at all displeased with Pallas’s discomfort, and her gaze had a reddish tint. The tip of a sharp fang was lengthening again.
“My lady?” Jacob spoke. “I believe Merc needs to know what you want done with him and his companions. The ones that are still alive.”
She blinked, and her gaze returned to jade green. “It would go smoother if we had a sanction from King Tabor for it. Perhaps we turn them over to him and let him and Queen Rhoswen handle it.”
“But this one is the leader. The one directly responsible for what happened on the island.”
Merc glanced at Lyssa. She met his gaze, nodded. “Yes.”
Merc returned his attention to Pallas. “It would be wise if you all stepped back,” he said.
As Marcellus had taught him about being an angel, it had crossed Merc’s mind, wondering if he could weave the incubus power into the angel’s, in such a way that the balance the angel side protected was unaffected. A bringing together of darkness and light. Not in conflict with one another, but just the opposite.
He was happy to find out, on an entirely unwilling subject.
The two power sources met within him and circled, like snakes considering a mating dance. After a pause, they drew closer. Then closer. As they began to twine around one another, and determine how they fit, Merc laid his mental hands on them and helped. Then he took the merged power where he desired.