Hels's Gauntlet [Forbidden Legacy 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Heather Long Page A

their masks. The motley collection boasted three reptilian critters, two human-looking males, three Elves, a now-buried-in-the-rock-goblin, a male with pointed ears and blue tattoos who looked more human than Elf, and two furred faces that Jacob didn’t recognize.
    The black-and-white-haired Wizard scowled at the blue-tattooed face, recognition flickering across his face.
    “You okay?” Jacob divided his attention between his prisoner, Vanagan, and Helcyon.
    “I am fine.” The bland answer jerked Jacob’s head up. Helcyon stared at Vanagan, hostility narrowing his eyes.
    “Problem?”
    “Perhaps my nephew can explain why my brother laid a trap for me.” His voice raw and husky with the struggle for breath, Helcyon’s blood and sweat stained his leathers dark.
    Paul maneuvered himself around, creating a triangle around Vanagan. But their new ally looked surprised. “Father is in hiding, Uncle. Considering the bounty on his head, it was the prudent decision.”
    The statement lacked conviction.
    Helcyon shifted his grip on his sword. “Kyrian found me Underhill. He is not ‘hiding’ that well.”
    Dragging his prisoner’s arms behind him, Jacob secured the creature’s wrists. The figure groaned, a low, almost mournful sound, but he ignored it for now. It wasn’t going anywhere.
    “I give you my word, Uncle, my last contact with Father was the day Cassandra made her announcement. He fled before the Danae could send her hounds for him.”
    Jacob believed him.
    “The only hound on his scent was me, and she lifted those bounties.” Helcyon poked a hole in the defense.
    “Which we know now.” Vanagan straightened, his brows drawing together in a fierce frown. “A message I would have passed on had I seen him, but I haven’t.”
    “He’s not lying.” Paul folded his arms. “But he’s not being totally truthful either.”
    Vanagan slanted a look at the quiet Wizard. “My thoughts are my own, but regardless of my father’s involvement, I knew nothing about this attack before Cassandra warned us.”
    Helcyon flicked a look toward Jacob. Shaking his head once, Jacob wanted to table that for a better location. Too many eyes and ears on a public beach. Speaking of which…where the hell are all the people?
    The beach was devoid of life. Danger itched between his shoulders. “We need to go.” Jerking the prisoner upward, he caught Paul’s jacket and draped it over the hooded figure’s head. Better he not see where or how they got where they were going.
    “I got this boss. I’ll clean it up.” Paul already had his phone out and snapped pictures of the faces. He’d document identities and destroy the bodies, cleaning the site of the blood and debris.
    Helcyon limped toward him, shrugging off Vanagan’s attempt to give him a hand. “We’re not taking them near her.” He pointed his sword at Jacob’s prisoner.
    “No, we’re not. But we have an opportunity to interrogate. We’re taking it. You need to see a healer.” Up close, Helcyon’s injuries were worse. Blood slicked his neck and matted his hair. Gore coated his left side, and his hands were deep red and stained from it. Raw skin and muscle showed from the cuts to his leathers and abrasions on his hands.
    He was a mess.
    “I’ll live.”
    “You might.” Jacob jerked the prisoner to the side, avoiding Helcyon’s blood-spattered blade. “But others are not used to that level of damage, nor will she take it well if she sees you like this.”
    Helcyon turned his head and spit. The blood continued to ooze from his split lip. He glanced upward at the beach house. “It’s secure enough there if we clean this up.”
    “I got this.” Paul waved them onward.
    Vanagan reached out a hand, and Helcyon slapped it away. “I’ll transport Jacob and the prisoner.” Raw anger seethed in the words, a tone Jacob had never heard from him before. Concern for his friend wormed past his focus on the situation. The Elf was usually the most composed of