Free Unchained, the Dark Forgotten (2010) by Sharon Ashwood Page A

heather. Stewart! He had dropped it as a clue.
    Or else it was a whole new trap, meant to lure Reynard deeper into the Castle.
    Bloody hell . There had to be more than one attacker, because Stewart was a good fighter. Reynard slowed his pace just enough to scan the ground as he went, searching for some indication of what he was up against. The bare stone told him nothing.
    The next junction in the corridors was shaped like a T. Left or right? Reynard listened intently, letting his vision go soft, letting sounds come to him rather than seeking them out. Perhaps it was magic, perhaps not, but it was something he’d been able to do since he was a boy. He heard things that should have been impossible to detect.
    Like the jingle of a goblin’s scaled armor along the left-hand passage. Reynard shifted his bloody sword to his left hand and put the Smith & Wesson in his right. If he was fighting a goblin, bullets were a better choice.
    He sprinted down the corridor, willing himself to catch up. Stewart’s bride was waiting for him to come home, and Captain Reynard did not leave his men behind.
    The passageway curved, the monotony of stone blocks and darkness creating a blind corner. He slowed to long, walking strides, gun ready.
    They were waiting for him, a changeling and a goblin. Stewart lay like a huddle of laundry at their feet. His neck was savaged.
    Suddenly Reynard’s mind was crystal clear, his anger snuffed out. Battle brought out his icy control, and he needed every strength he had right then.
    Stewart needed it.
    Reynard fired the gun. The changeling flew backward, but Reynard already knew he had missed the head. Damnation!
    The goblin fell back a step at the sound of the shot, but drew a bronze knife the length of a man’s forearm. The blade was serrated in long, wicked notches, meant to catch and tear as it sliced. Worse, the goblin handled it with confidence. Anticipation came into its piggy eyes. Its lower lip—stomach-churningly human—sagged a little as the upper mouth lifted, showing off the sweep of its gold-studded tusks.
    Was that a goblin smile? Leer? Evil grin? The devil only knows .
    It all took less than a second; then the goblin was on him. The thing was at least seven feet tall and smelled like rotten ham.
    It crashed forward like a falling boulder armed with a knife. Reynard ducked, but not far enough. A tusk slammed the side of his head, making his ears ring and sending him stumbling to the side. They careened into the wall, their combined weight driving the air from his lungs in a whoosh.
    Reynard sagged enough in the creature’s grip to bend his knees, then used the full force of his body to drive the heel of his hand into the goblin’s snout. Its head snapped back. He’d caught it by surprise.
    Reynard shoved his gun into the soft flesh beneath the goblin’s jaw and fired three times. As the top of the goblin’s head sprayed the wall, a single, convulsive jerk smashed its bulk against Reynard. It felt like a seven-foot bag of stone. Reynard twisted, using the goblin’s own weight to send it crashing to the floor.
    Flecks of blood and bone were everywhere, over the walls and floor, over Stewart’s still form, glistening in the torchlight.
    The changeling was gone.
    The Smith & Wesson was empty, and he didn’t take the time to reload. Swords were better with vampires.
    Reynard spun away from his position, searching the shadow for the glow of pale yellow eyes. Nothing. Nothing . He dropped the gun and took a firmer grip on the sword.
    Instinctively, Reynard looked up just in time to see the changeling drop from the ceiling like a massive, pale spider. Reynard sprang aside, but not quite fast enough. Claws hooked in his sleeve, pulling him forward. He landed hard, the shock of stone on his knees stealing his breath.
    Reynard threw himself into a roll, knowing motion was his best defense against the changeling’s massive strength. A swipe of long claws missed his face by a whisper.
    Then he