Hunted (The Iron Druid Chronicles, Book Six)

the ground, and thus Granuaile’s follow-up struck the earth with a dull thud. I wouldn’t be able to get to the huntress before she regained her feet; she’d rolled with her bow and would be able to nock and fire another arrow at stupid speed if she made it. A blur in my vision announced that Oberon wanted her to stay down as much as I did; Granuaile must have refocused his attention. The huntress did manage to spring to her feet, only to be yanked back down as she reached for an arrow.
    I heard Oberon say,
    Diana’s attempt to free herself by clocking Oberon upside the head met severe resistance from Scáthmhaide; Granuaile didn’t miss this time, and her blow audibly snapped both bones in the goddess’s forearm. The arm pressed into the turf, where Granuaile stomped on it. Diana shrieked and struggled to free herself, but I imagined that Granuaile and Oberon were both juiced on the earth’s energy for extra strength and she had no leverage.
    Before Diana could think of using her legs and possibly kicking Granuaile off her arm, I decided to redirect her attention. I dropped my camouflage and said, “Well, hello there, Diana,” as I strode into her view. Her eyesrounded, and her mouth stopped making noise and just hung open.
    
    Stay on her, buddy. Don’t let go, okay?
    
    Thanks. We’ll talk in a minute
.
    I smiled at the shocked expression on Diana’s face. Normally I wouldn’t behave this way, but something about the Romans brought it out in me. It probably had something to do with how they had helped to wipe out the Druids. “You gave us quite the chase,” I said. I twirled Fragarach once in my hand and halted it abruptly, feigning surprise at an unexpected thought. “Oh! Hold on. Did you think you were hunting
us
?”
    Her eyes narrowed and she took breath to speak, but she never got to say a word. I hacked off her head with one stroke and kicked it away from the body so she couldn’t heal it back up.
    “Whooo!” I shouted, allowing myself a fist pump. “That one’s going on my highlight reel.”
    Granuaile dispelled her invisibility and Oberon’s camouflage. Her knuckles were painfully white against the wood of Scáthmhaide, and I couldn’t tell by her face if she wanted to kiss me or kill me.
    “Right,” I said. “You probably have questions.”

Chapter 15
    “Who are you, and why do you have Fragarach?” Granuaile said through clenched teeth.
    That wasn’t the question I’d been expecting. “I’m Atticus, and the sword is mine.”
     Oberon’s tail was wagging and he clearly wanted to jump on me, but he held back, seeing the tension in Granuaile.
    Heck yes. Snack for you!
    “Atticus is dead.”
    “I was only dead for a little while.”
    
    Ignoring Oberon’s comment, Granuaile drew a knife from her thigh holster—her last one—and raised it over her shoulder, ready to throw. “Tell me who you really are. Are you Loki? Coyote?” I was beginning to understand why the elementals called her Fierce Druid.
    “It’s easy to tell, Granuaile. Look in the magical spectrum. Loki’s a mess of anger and white light. Coyote is a mix of all colors. And all you’ll see from me right now is the iron in my aura because I’m not drawing on the earth at all.”
    
    I said a snack
.
    
    Oberon’s test was insufficient, and Granuaile knew it. Coyote was capable of talking mentally to Oberon—or at least hearing him, as far as we knew—and he could also copy my form all the way down to my scent. The latter ability was how we’d fooled Garm and Hel into thinking I was dead back in Arizona.
    Granuaile exhaled sharply and then spoke the words for magical sight. I waited patiently while she checked me out.
    “What’s your real name?” she asked, still testing me, and now that I’d recovered from my surprise, I approved of her caution.
    “Siodhachan Ó Suileabháin.”
    “I was once a vessel for another person. Name the person.”
    “Laksha Kulasekaran.”
    “And what was that one thing we did together that one time?”
    “We don’t discuss that in front of the hound.”
    
    Granuaile dropped the knife. “It really is you.”
    I tapped the soulcatcher