Ravaged: An Eternal Guardians Novella (1001 Dark Nights) Read Free Page B

legs. And he moved like a seasoned warrior, swinging the blade in his hand like a ninja swings nunchucks. She watched in disbelief as his blade sank deep, he pulled it free, then swung out and decapitated the first daemon before moving to the second and third. In a matter of seconds, the fight was over, as if the daemons were paper dolls rather than living, menacing monsters.
    The Argonaut turned Daphne’s way. Daphne’s vision flickered, but one look was all it took to send her scrambling backward in a haze of pain. A nose that had been broken more than once. Puckered scars that covered the left side of his jaw, ran down his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his long-sleeved T-shirt. And mismatched eyes—one a brilliant blue, the other a deep green—blazing and focused directly on her as if she were the next threat.
    The Argonaut kicked the daemon’s body out of his way and marched toward her. Blood and some kind of vile green goo covered his clothing, and that wild, fevered look in his mismatched eyes told her he was no friend, not to her.
    It was him. The crazy Argonaut.
    Aristokles.
    Fear caused her to jerk back, but her head hit something sharp, stopping her momentum. Pain shot across her scalp, and she cried out, but the sound gurgled in her throat. He knelt beside her and reached one bloody, dirt-streaked hand her way.
    She gripped the rock tightly, but before she could lift it to protect herself, everything went black.
     
    * * *
     
    Ari carried the injured female into the living area of his home high in the mountains and laid her on the couch.
    “Holy Hera,” Silas said, grabbing a blanket from the back of a chair and laying it over her limp body. “She’s a nymph. What in Hades was a nymph doing out in the wilds unprotected?”
    “I don’t know.” Ari moved back as Silas knelt close and worked on the female. In his old life, Silas had tended to the sick and injured of his village. Now he tended to Ari, which Ari knew was the most thankless job on the planet. “I didn’t seal the wounds. If it was an archdaemon who did this, I didn’t want to make things worse.”
    “Smart.” An archdaemon’s claws held a dangerous poison that could prompt infection. Silas peeled the female’s torn dress back over her ribs so he could see her wounds. “But the chances she was attacked by an archdaemon are slim. I’m gonna need rags and hydrogen peroxide from the kitchen.”
    It took several seconds for Ari to realize Silas was talking to him. Tearing his gaze away from the female, Ari turned out of the living room with its high-beamed ceiling, roaring fireplace, and leather furnishings and headed for the kitchen. He was still covered in blood and slime from his battle with those daemons, tracking mud through the house Silas worked hard to keep clean, but couldn’t think about anything other than the nymph lying half dead in the other room.
    Silas was right. There was no reason for a nymph to be alone in those woods. She’d clearly been running. From who though, he didn’t know. Before he could stop it, Ari’s mind tumbled back dozens of years to another nymph he’d found alone and injured in the wild. To a moment that had cursed his existence for all eternity.
    His vision darkened, and a flood of emotions that would only mess with his control threatened to overwhelm him. But he slowly beat them back. This was the reason he chose to isolate himself. Because he was unpredictable. Because he’d been cursed by the gods. Because some days, he was as much a monster as the daemons he’d sworn to destroy.
    “Ari! The rags! She’s bleeding, man!”
    The sound of Silas’s voice penetrated Ari’s consciousness. He grabbed the items Silas had asked for then moved back into the living room. After handing Silas the materials, he stepped away again and watched as Silas cleaned the wounds then held his hands over the female and used his sensing gift to search for infection.
    Long seconds passed. Finally, Silas