“Do you have a problem?” Melena asked.
“You and your cat need to leave right now,” Sabelle said, taking a few steps closer. Lucas had to wonder if the woman didn’t notice him standing nearby or if she didn’t care.
Melena cocked her head, no sign of fear on her face. “Who put you in charge?”
“The archangels assigned me to work here, but you are not welcome.”
Lucas was strongly tempted to teach Sabelle a lesson, but he needed to give his mate a chance to work this out on her own. It was the only way she’d gain respect among his kind. The only problem being he didn’t like the timing. Melena had regained some of her strength, but she was still too thin and weak for his comfort. If the confrontation escalated, he’d end the problem in one swift move. While Sabelle and Udo were more powerful than Melena, they were half as strong as Lucas.
“She has more of a right to be here than you do,” Tormod said, his eyes glowing violet as he stepped forward.
“I agree.” Olivia stuck her chin out. “Melena is the one who risked everything to free us. You can’t make her leave.”
Lucas couldn’t help appreciating the way the nerou closed ranks around his mate. Even after being gone for months, they still remembered her and respected her. Their show of loyalty wasn’t necessary, but it would ensure the newest instructors knew where their students stood.
“Thanks, everyone.” Melena gazed around at the nerou. “But trust me when I say I can handle this.”
Lucas had a feeling things were about to get interesting. His mate had a gleam in her eyes that told him she had a plan. He would have to trust in that, considering she was one-tenth the strength of her opponents. Still, he preferred to improve her odds if he was going to allow this foolish game to continue.
“Give Sabelle and Melena space,” he ordered.
The nerou’s steps were reluctant, but they obeyed him. Olivia took hold of Sable and pulled her away as well. Udo remained standing in the same position. Lucas gestured at him to back away. The nephilim shook his head and continued to glare at Melena. Udo wasn’t one to speak often, but if he preferred action that was fine. Lucas flashed over to the nephilim and grabbed him by the neck, dragging him away like a misbehaving school child. Udo struggled against him, but he couldn’t break free.
Lucas tossed the nephilim to the ground in front of the nerou, giving him a disgusted look. “Lesson one—do not
ever
challenge me again.” He turned toward Kerbasi, who’d just arrived on the field. “Watch him.”
“Must I keep him in one piece?” the guardian asked, cocking his head at Udo.
“Yes, but if he so much as lifts a finger without my permission, you may do whatever you wish to him.” Lucas didn’t relish the idea of allowing Kerbasi to harm any nephilim, but he knew it would be a strong enough deterrent that Udo would stay down until told otherwise.
He returned his attention to Melena and Sabelle, who now faced off against each other. His mate stood in the ready position with her feet spread apart and her fists up. She hadn’t expected to fight today and had left her long auburn hair hanging loose. Lucas swore that if Sabelle—who appeared ready to charge—harmed one strand of Melena’s hair, he’d impale the female nephilim and leave her baking in the sun. It was all he could do to stand by and wait for an excuse. The last thing Lucas needed was one more incident to slow his mate’s healing process.
Eli appeared at his side. “You’re going to allow this?”
“Is the psychologist in you balking at the idea?” Lucas asked, not taking his eyes off his mate.
The nephilim was silent a moment. “I suppose this has been coming for a long time, but I’d hoped they’d move past their differences without resorting to violence.”
The women circled each other, and everyone held their collective breaths.
“I assume that means Melena had some trouble with the others while in Purgatory?” Lucas asked, wishing he could have been there to shield her from that. She’d done more than enough to prove herself by now.
“They verbally harassed her, but we were chained so they could do little else,” Eli replied.
Sabelle flashed forward and struck a punishing blow in Melena’s stomach. His mate fell to her knees, clutching her abdomen with one arm. Rage infused him, and he stalked forward, ready to put a stop to the fight.
Melena shot him a dark look. “Don’t. Remember New Orleans.”
Though it killed him, he backed away. This was hardly the same situation at all, but Lucas understood what she meant. He needed to be patient and give her a chance.
“Come on, you weak bitch,” Sabelle taunted. “Fight me.”
Melena lifted her head. “Try it again.”
The female nephilim swung her fist. His mate rolled to the side, avoiding the blow while simultaneously grabbing Sabelle’s ankle. Melena jerked her opponent’s leg out from under her and sent her flat onto the ground. Then she scrambled on top of Sabelle, holding a pistol in her right hand. It was then Lucas remembered Melena had strapped a Sig Sauer to her ankle before they left home earlier. She’d let herself get hit as an excuse to crouch low and grab it from under her pant leg.
Melena shoved the barrel into Sabelle’s gaping mouth and pulled the trigger twice. Blood and tissue splattered everywhere. She’d damaged her opponent’s head to the point the female nephilim was no longer recognizable.
Gasps rose up from the nerou, most of them having never seen a gun in action—outside of a movie, anyhow. Melena stood, holding the weapon down at her side. At this range, he could detect the pain and weakness afflicting her through their mating bond, but outwardly she hid it well.
All anyone could see of her was a female warrior who stood proud after vanquishing her foe. Under any other circumstances, Lucas might have been tempted to take her to the ground and have his way with her right then. The picture she presented was almost undoing his resolve, but internally she was barely holding herself together.
Melena let her gaze run across the assembled crowd, head held high. “This was your next lesson for the day—you do not need to be stronger than your opponent to defeat them.”
“Is she dead?” someone asked.
“No,” Melena answered, looking down at Sabelle. “She’ll recover by the end of the day and be as good as new.”
“Is it cheating to use such a weapon?” This came from Tormod.
She lifted her brows. “Is it cheating to attack someone a tenth as powerful as you?”
“She has a point,” Olivia said, nodding.
Patrick spoke up, “Why didn’t you just shoot her in the first place?”
“For two reasons.” Melena lifted a finger. “For one, if she knew I had a gun her first priority would have been to take it from me. Since she’s stronger and faster, it’s likely she would have gotten it. I had to keep the weapon hidden until I had her at a disadvantage.”
“Makes sense,” someone said. Lucas enjoyed watching the way the nerou listened to her. Melena was easier to relate to than him, and she could explain strategy in a way he never could because he usually came from a position of greater strength.
“The second reason is that nephilim can take a lot of damage. If I’d shot multiple rounds at Sabelle from a distance, she might have been able to keep coming at me. I needed to fire point blank into her head to be sure she stayed down. I’ve learned these lessons the hard way, but I hope today’s example will allow you to get it right the first time.”
“Do you always use guns against supernaturals?” Patrick asked. Lucas was pleased to see the male sensor gaining enthusiasm to learn. Melena had just proven her earlier point that he couldn’t allow strength differences to deter him.
“Every case is different. Nephilim can’t be killed—at least not by any of us. The best thing you can do is disable them as fast as possible. For other races, you have more options and a sword might be the better weapon.”
Olivia’s expression was filled with awe. “Can you teach us?”
“Can I see the gun?” Tormod asked.
Melena shook her head. “I’m glad you could learn something from this demonstration, but I didn’t plan it. Lucas, Kerbasi, and the others are your instructors. They are every bit as qualified, if not more so than me to teach you.”
Several of the nerou groaned in disappointment.
“We will see about her coming back again,” Lucas said, stepping out in front of them. “Melena would be the best to teach you about firearms. For now, Kerbasi will meet you in the lecture hall for your next class.”
As the nerou left the field, Lucas joined his mate. She was looking down at Sabelle with a frustrated expression. “No matter how hard I try not to react to her, it never works.”
“She’ll learn to accept you with time,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “How are you?”
Melena lifted her shirt, revealing a fist-sized bruise on her belly. “Sabelle hits like a sledgehammer, but I’ll heal.”
“We should get you cleaned up.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That bad, huh?”
“I love my woman covered in her enemy’s blood, but I fear Patrick may become ill if he must ride home with you still looking like that.”
The sensor in question ducked his head. “It is rather gross.”
“Give me your arm,” she said to Lucas. He was surprised she asked for his assistance, but he recognized the pain must have been excruciating for her to do so. He was tempted to punish Sabelle for this later after she woke. If not for the fact it would undermine Melena’s performance, he would certainly do it.
“What about me?” Udo called out.
Lucas turned to glare at the nephilim, who still lay on the ground. “Stay there. You may get up when Sabelle does.”
Melena clutched at her stomach with her free hand, holding back a laugh. “He’s going to hate you for that.”
“Good.” Lucas did not care what the fool thought of him.
Chapter Twenty-one
Melena
Patrick and I crossed the street, heading toward the downtown building where the Department of Homeland Security maintained their Fairbanks office. I was surprised to see a line of people waiting to get inside, considering it was half past nine in the morning. Several of them gave us disgruntled looks as we bypassed them to enter the lobby. The DHS office was at the end of a long corridor. As we continued past the line, my sensitive hearing couldn’t help picking up various conversations.
“The damn government better do something about this,” one man said angrily.
“I want to know where the werewolves are. I bet they’re hot,” a young woman remarked to her friend.
“How can they expect us to live near vampires?” an older lady asked.
More people were afraid than not, and paranoia thickened the air. I strode down the corridor with an authoritative stride and my chin up. Patrick walked next to me, mimicking me reasonably well. Agent O’Connell had called to warn us about the crowds before we left that morning. Though I still hadn’t expected it to be quite this bad, I’d made the decision that we would wear suits and present ourselves as professionals. The last thing we needed was to draw any suspicion. People needed to believe we were human and there to help them.
The mixture of anxiety and anger coming from the line was enough to give me a migraine. The angel’s peace spell had worn off not long before I returned to Alaska. It must have been nice while it lasted, though I hadn’t been around to enjoy it. The humans lining up outside the DHS office were there to lodge their complaints about the supernatural community, whether their grievances were real or imagined.
“I’m almost positive a vamp has been sneaking into my house and sucking my blood during the night,” a young guy said. He stood toward the front of the line by the agency door.
I couldn’t help responding. “Have you invited any vampires into your home?”
“Um.” He frowned. “Not that I know about.”
“Some of the legends about them are true. They can’t get in if you don’t invite them.” It wasn’t that I planned to give away a bunch of vampire secrets, but if telling people a thing or two would help them sleep at night, then it couldn’t hurt.
A middle-aged woman narrowed her eyes at me. “How do you know?”
I schooled my features into a blank expression. “It’s my job to know, ma’am.”
Before she or anyone else could ask more questions, Patrick and I entered the DHS office, passing through a protection ward I hadn’t expected. They’d gotten more serious in my absence. A blond secretary stood behind her desk, giving instructions to a human on how to fill out a form. Lines of exhaustion reflected on her features. O’Connell said this had been going on all week, but now I understood why he was so desperate to get more help.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a badge the agency had issued me before I’d gone to Purgatory. I flashed it at the secretary. “I’m Melena Sanders, and this is Patrick Jones. We’re here to see O’Connell.”
“We’ve been expecting you,” she said in a clipped voice, then pointed down the hallway. “You can go on back.”
I glanced at the people waiting in the corridor and returned my attention to her. “Are you just having them fill out forms? Nothing else?”