Her weapons normal attacks of slicing and cutting did not do much of anything but piercing damage did.
Oh, Samuel and Isiah were going to kill her for this.
Taking a breath, she made a feint and the ahamay charged but she spun out of reach at the last moment. Instead, she ran at the wall, hoping there was enough space to perform the stunt she needed. Springing up at the last second she ran up the wall and then curved around, leaping down on the beast, driving her blade down into the back of its neck. The creature howled in agony and bucked wildly. She fumbled for her other dagger, yanking it out just before she was thrown off.
Skidding on her back she gasped for air, only just managing to avoid hitting her head. The creature leapt at her, its jaws snapping. She barely had time to grab a hunk of bone from beside her and shove it in the thing’s mouth. It snapped it in two. But it had given her the moment she needed to drive both her blades up through the soft patch of its jaw, straight through to its brain.
It let out a gurgle, twitching, and struggling. Not daring to take a chance she pulled one dagger out and then plunged it back in with all her might. The light faded from the beast’s eyes and it fell to the side.
Thank the Creators.
Staggering to her feet, she pulled at her weapons, yanking hard on her second because it was lodged in bone. Turning to the rest of the fight she swallowed a curse. There was no thought, no hesitation, no moment to recover. She just ran. Ran past the bodies of the young ahamay, past the corpses of her fallen allies whose faces she could not focus on, ran to the opposite end of the hall and leapt on the back of the second adult ahamay. The ahamay that had cornered Samuel and snapped his staff in two. Her daggers buried themselves over and over into the monsters head.
She wasn’t sure who was screaming, her or Samuel or the creature. The thing threw her off and she hit the wall but that didn’t stop her or slow her. The beast was coming after her now and she was ready for it.
“Get it to lift its head!” she shouted to anyone who would listen. Anyone who was still alive.
She saw a flash of armor behind the beast and the pointed tip of shield came down on the ahamay that was trying to eat her. It roared in anger, snapping upward. She drove her dagger into the side of its neck and yanked. Green blood showered down on her as she slit the beast’s throat from end to end.
And then it was over.
Panting she felt the thing collapse on her but she hardly paid attention. She only had eyes for her brother. Her bleeding wounded brother. He was doubled over, clutching his arm to his chest but he was alive. He was alive.
The weight was being tugged off of her.
Her eyes flickered to the hazy figures nearby. Someone was kneeling in front of her saying her name. Jarrett. He was bleeding, red mixing with green and black. They were all coated with that awful blood and foul muck.
“I’m fine,” she heard herself saying. “Sammy… Sammy…” She struggled to move, slipping in the puddle of green blood beneath her.
“Alive. In one piece… mostly,” he gasped as Darcy handed him aloeroot potions. “Might not be for long if this bleeding doesn’t stop. Damned thing nearly got my arm.”
Payton scrambled to his side. Teeth marks cut clean through to the bone and part of his flesh was missing. She and Darcy exchanged a worried glance. He offered her relatively clean bandages. She was certain she did not have ones that were any better. Together they wrapped them around her brother’s arm as securely as they could.
“We’ll get you to Atherly. He’ll sort you out,” Darcy said quietly.
“Can Atherly heal staves too?” Samuel asked glibly, kicking at the now useless pieces of weapon.
She snorted through her fear. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll replace it.”
She looked about and saw they were alone. Zoe was dead, so were the two guards that she did not know, and Hitchens was missing. Eaten? Ran away? Who knew?
“Come on. We have to get out of here. We’ll send someone for Zoe after we fix you.”
Together they helped Samuel to his feet, Payton gritting her teeth against her own pain. Jarrett was by her side when he saw her start to waver, giving her an intense look but she ignored him. Never had daylight looked so inviting before as the group of them limped out.
“Will you be alright?” Jarrett asked. “I have to go report this and have someone help with the bodies.”
She nodded. “Go.”
Jarrett studied her a moment before returning the motion and hurrying away.
“Will you go find Atherly?” Payton pleaded to Darcy. “Send him to the Wyverns warehouse? It’s the quickest way.”
Darcy looked extremely reluctant to leave Samuel and it was only after the two of them exchanged a look and a head nod of their own that the redhead took off running.
It took a bit of struggle for Samuel and Payton to reach the warehouse. After all, Payton was several inches shorter than her brother, injured, and still trying to support his form. But they made it.
The sound of the door hitting the wall echoed and drew the attention of everyone in the place. The two of them practically fell into the warehouse. Atherly and Darcy were already there waiting. The blond rushed toward her, fretting but she brushed him off.
“Sammy first,” she said curtly.
“But—”
“You heard me.”
Atherly took a step back and then turned to Samuel who had lowered himself to sit on a crate. Assured that Atherly would take care of her brother, Payton’s attention went to her next target. The brunette woman who was staring down from the catwalk, her personal minion standing unsullied next to her. Exhaling sharply, Payton marched up the stairs and stalked toward her.
Brisen arched a brow, eying her up and down. “I see you ran into some trouble.”
Without warning, Payton slugged her across the jaw. Brisen stumbled back, startled.
“I quit,” Payton announced.
“You little—”
“Do you hear me, bitch? I quit. You and your little murder attempt can go hang yourself.” Payton was not aware of how loud she was until she turned to walk down the stairs and noticed that everyone was now staring at Brisen with unbridled loathing.
But she didn’t care. It didn’t matter anymore. The balance of power, the game Brisen tried to play with her. It was over. She was finished. She would hire herself out on her own for those damned guarding positions. Fuck the Onyx Wyverns. Fuck Brisen.
Coming up alongside Atherly and her brother, she swallowed hard. Atherly appeared to be straining as the white light engulfed Samuel. Could he even heal the damage? Would Samuel get the use of his arm back? She tried to still the racing thoughts until Atherly was done but something worse came to mind. She knew she could not bear it if she lost another member of her family. It begged the question: what was she going to do about Nyla’s trip?
THREE DAYS GRACE
Chapter Twenty-Eight
He was still sore. Even now three days after the battle with the ahamays, Jarrett could feel it in his muscles down to his very bones. It made him sluggish and weak. He hated it. He had just ended what likely was his worst training session in years. He was angry. At himself, at his sparring partner, at everyone and everything. Distracted as he was, he did not pay attention to his surroundings until something hit his shoulder with a jarring force.
“Watch where you’re going.”
Jarrett scowled. He rolled his shoulder, trying to work out the pain the impact had caused. “With your inability to see your surroundings one might begin to question your placement on the guards. After all, Imeryn would not want an inept man on the force who is currently doing the exact opposite of what his job entails.”
Kern glowered at him. “Are you saying I can’t do my job?”
“I’m saying you aren’t. Now go relearn what it means to protect and serve without being an asshole,” he snapped before trying to walk away.
“You are so full of yourself. You think you’re somebo
dy just because you survived the ahamays in the sewers. Everyone knows it wasn’t you or Darcy who did anything. It was that mercenary. The one everyone talks about,” Kern taunted, following him in his attempt to leave the training grounds.
“I have little need to prove myself to a bunch of gossiping morons.”
“Face it, you’re nothing.”
Jarrett stilled, those words hitting a raw cord in him.
“You are nothing, my pet.”
“You’ll never accomplish anything. Never be anything. All anyone will remember you as is the runaway sl—”
Kern never saw the punch coming. Jarrett pivoted, swinging his fist and slamming it so hard into the man’s jaw it knocked him off his feet. He did not stop there. Rage filled his being so entirely he stalked after the man who was scrambling to his feet. Jarrett had no trouble dodging the attempted blow aimed at him or the second and the third. He landed his own across Kern’s cheek and then struck him in the gut, forcing him to double over. Even as he did it, he still seethed, the man’s words still ringing in his head, still echoing with a voice that should be long since buried.
“You are nothing and you are mine.”
He did not know how long he kept punching Kern, only that by the time he was pulled off of him, his knuckles were beyond bloodied and Kern’s face had already begun to swell.
“What is going on?!” Takara’s thunderous voice shouted.
Jarrett wrenched himself free from the guard who held him. He wiped the blood that was trickling down his chin from his own split lip. “Nothing,” he growled.
“Fucking bastard just attacked me!” Kern’s voice was muffled and his speech slurred.
“Is this true?”
He did not respond.
Takara huffed, her eyes flaring in frustration. “Someone take Kern to the medic!” she barked after a moment. “Jarrett, with me.” Wordlessly he followed her back to her office and obeyed her order when she pointed to the chair across from her desk. “What were you thinking?”
He had nothing to say. Instead, he examined his knuckles, wondering if he had managed to scrape one deeper than he thought, it was bleeding rather profusely.
“I am ordering a three-day suspension.”
This finally got him to look at her, glowering but still, he said nothing.
“Damn it, Jarrett. Talk to me.”
“What would you have me say? You know the foulness that Kern is prone to spouting. You have cautioned me to ignore it. You have said that he would learn with time. Time has passed and he has not learned,” he snapped.
“So you taught him a lesson with your fists?”
“I’d hardly call it a lesson. I simply attempted to shut his mouth permanently. I failed.”
Takara pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning. “You should not tell me things like this.”
“As a boss or as a friend?”
“As a friend, I’d say go nuts on him. But as a boss, I have to extend your suspension because your intent was to seriously harm him.” She wrote something down. “A week. For Creators sake, go home. Cool off. You’ve been on edge since you got back from the sewers. You need to relax.”
“Relax,” he repeated the word as if he had never heard it before.
“Go to the Pegasus and play cards with drunks until our game night. Celebrate the Summer Solstice tonight. Do something else with your time besides work.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Yes, I am. Fish, hike, socialize with someone. Do something! Just pull out that stick you have shoved up your ass. If you keep it there, you’re going to kill someone.” She paused and then sighed. “Look, if the only way you can blow off steam is sparring, find Payton. I’d wager she or one of her brothers could handle sparring you for a bit. Hell, have all three of them take you.” She paused. “You know I’d pay to see that.”
He arched a brow at her.
Takara waved her hand dismissively at him. “Just get out of here while I sort out the mess you just made.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
What was it about holidays that made everyone act like lunatics? Payton trudged into the house covered in ale – thankfully the vomit had missed her, though Nyla had not been so lucky. She had been pulling a double shift at the Pegasus, working almost the entire day and night due to the Summer Solstice. Toward the end of the night, the drunks had turned into even bigger morons than normal. A shouting match turned into a brawl which she went to break up. It caused her to get drenched in a tankard of ale which in turn became a game of throwing ale on her and suddenly the Pegasus was out half their customers because Payton was wet and angry. Nyla, to save business, allowed her to go home early to change and left it up to her whether she wanted to return.
She would not.
It took her twenty minutes to get the stench of it off of her skin and she had no idea if it would ever leave her armor. But clean and in fresh clothes, she sat on her bed, breathing a sigh of relief that her day was at last over.
Fishing her journal out from the side of her bed, she opened it up to a clean page and went back to making her lists. She had over a dozen by now. Some of them were repeats but the originals had been rewritten and crossed out so many times that they were unusable. She had to figure out who to bring on Nyla’s trip.
She could flitch a few choice fighters from the Wyverns even though she was no longer one of them but it would be best if she looked elsewhere for most of their fighting backup. And she still did not know what to do about Samuel and Isiah. Every time she made her list those two names were placed on the side with question marks next to them. Uncertain what to do, whether to bring them or not. She trusted them more than anyone to have her back and yet the thought of losing them…
Biting her lip she tried to think of replacements for them. A good mage and warrior whom she could trust just as much. There were few options and she was reduced to tapping her pencil against the paper as she thought.
The sound of the door opening and closing caught her attention. The drunken stumbling clued her into who it was. “Whos left candle burnin’ out here?” his slurred voice called.
“I did, Simmons. So you lot can see when you come in,” she reminded. It was a tradition they all did – except Simmons of course who never remembered. They would always leave a light burning if one of them was not home. It was a habit they picked up from their mother.
He appeared in her doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. “Look at you, all cleaned up and nice.”
“I hardly think so,” she said, her lip curling. She could smell the booze on him from her spot on the bed.
“You are a pretty girl. You look just like your mother.” He was coming into the room now. “I knew your mother when she was young. Has anyone told you that?”
“Yes. You. A dozen times.” She was packing her journal away. Maybe going back to the Pegasus wouldn’t be so bad.
“Oh, why you look like that. Give me a smile, girl.” He plopped down next to her. “Go on now.”
“Simmons, you’re drunk. Go sleep it off in your room.”
“Just celebrating a little.” He was staring intently, his gaze boring into her like little pinpricks. “She didn’t have freckles like you. And she wore her hair down.” He reached out as though he intended to touch her but she jerked away. “Aw, don’t be like that darling.”
“I’m heading out,” she declared as she scooted forward, intending to stand up.
With reflexes she did not know he had, he grabbed her by the arm. “Come on now, girl. We was just talking.” His grip was strong, his gruff fingers digging into the soft flesh of her forearm.
“Let go of me.”
“Your mom and me, we grew up together. Over in Vaelorn. Used to spend hours running about the fields with her. She was always anxious for adventure. Said she couldn’t paint life if she didn’t live it.” His thumb was rubbing up and down her arm now, ignoring the way she tried to pull free. “Then she went off without me and found your dad.�
��
“That’s nice. I have to go now.”
This angered him. His hold on her tightened. “Nice? It wasn’t nice, Elaine. It was cruel. I was with you for all those years and you just abandoned me. Left me behind and ran off with some… Malvathar.”
“I’m not Elaine!”
His other hand brushed her face, cupping it. “But you’re back now. I won’t let you escape again.”
His mouth smashed against hers in a foul-smelling and sloppy kiss. She fought against him, striking at his chest, kicking at his shins, anything to try and throw him off of her but he was almost a dead weight. The muscle he had from blacksmithing worked against her as he held fast and managed to knock her back against the bed, flattening her down with him on top. One arm was pinned down, unable to squirm free but the other she kept clawing and striking at him, hoping to snap him out of it.
“Stop!” she screamed against his lips.
His other hand was trailing down her body, cupping her breast and pinching her nipple as it went. She bit his lip when his hand reached her pants and began fumbling at its ties. He cursed and pulled back, blood welling up.
“Why do you hurt me, Elaine? You used to love my kisses.”
“I’m not Elaine!” she shouted, beating her fist against him but it did nothing.
He buried his face into her neck, biting her flesh in what she supposed was to be a loving fashion. His fingers were moving again, trying to work their way beneath her hemline. Frantic her free hand stretched out, trying to reach her bracer. Just a little farther…
She grasped the hilt of the hidden knife just he slid a finger beneath her smalls. She swung the blade at him and jammed it into his arm, burying it to the hilt in the muscle of his bicep.
Simmons let out a howl and leapt off of her. She rapidly scrambled away from him, half falling off the bed in her haste. She was across the room and at her daggers in seconds. He got to his feet, snarling but she pointed her blades at him.
Shattered Page 20
