Razor's Edge

by Sherri L. King

  “I didn’t sneak. I stepped heavily enough for you to hear me. You should be happy for that much of a warning from me.”

  “You’re too cocky by far.” She rolled her eyes.

  The man in the black coat stepped closer, stalking her. “You’re awfully brave behind the barrel of that gun. Shall I show you again how ineffectual that weapon is against me?”

  Emily lowered the gun, but otherwise ignored his goading words. “You owe me for that, by the way. These things aren’t cheap, I’ll have you know. And a police officer’s salary can only be stretched so far these days.”

  “Humans are so strange with their worship of green pieces of paper. There are more important things in life than money, let me assure you of that.”

  Emily snorted. “Be that as it may, money makes the world go ‘round and I have too precious little of it to ignore the loss of a fine weapon.”

  “Perhaps I should pay you…after all, you deserve something after last night’s performance. I’m not so callous as to forget it so quickly.”

  Emily felt as if he’d struck her. “W-what?” She felt her eyes widen in shock.

  “I assume, like most humans, you require some compensation for allowing me such free access to your person. I suppose I owe you for that, as well as for the weapon.” He sounded so flippant, so cool.

  She swallowed hard. “Are you…are you calling me a whore?” It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to shout the words at him.

  “I am merely calling you human. Don’t worry, I understand how it is with your kind.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and removed an alarmingly thick wad of bills. “Would this be enough, do you think?”

  Her finger twitched, moved towards the trigger of her gun once more. The man’s eyes flashed down, catching the telltale angry movement. “You…you—” she paused and took a deep breath. She needed to calm down or else she’d lose every last shred of dignity that she possessed. “You can go to hell,” she finished.

  He held out the bills for her with long, elegant fingers. “Double this then, when next we meet. You were worth it, of course.”

  She reached out and roughly jerked the money from him, wadded it in her fist, and threw it back in his face. “Fuck. You.”

  “You already did that.” He goaded her mercilessly, his mouth set in a hard line, his eyes cruel flames burning out at her from the shadows of his face.

  Emily wanted to remain calm, to let him think she wasn’t hurt or offended by his cruel words. But her temper—always explosive when stoked—got the better of her. She threw her gun at him. He fended it off too easily. She launched herself at him with a howl of rage.

  He blocked her first two punches. And avoided her first well-aimed kick to the groin. It was too easy for him, with his incredible speed. However, the very apparent futility of her struggles only served to enrage her further and she threw her weight against him, tackling him to the ground.

  He grunted.

  She grinned a feral, triumphant grin, and jabbed her knee into his stomach. He jerked but did not cry out. Her grin faded and she growled. He rolled them over, assuming the dominant position over her, attempting to hold her to the ground with his hands at her wrists and his body straddling her.

  Wriggling like an eel, she dislodged him enough to pull away, crawling on her hands and knees now like an awkward infant as he held on. His arms wrapped around her legs, bringing her to the ground again. He covered her back, trying to hold her still. She went limp.

  But she was not defeated. Not by any means.

  Waiting until he was just behind her, she flew up, butting his face with the back of her head. He grunted in pain and released her, grabbing his face. She scrambled away and gained her feet, only to return now that she had the advantage of height over him. She kicked out with her booted foot, catching him in the chest. He went down like a ton of bricks.

  Smiling—more a wicked flash of her tightly clenched teeth than any real smile—she circled him as he rolled on the ground in an attempt to regain his feet.

  Feeling no remorse, she kicked him in the stomach. Quick as a serpent, he caught her ankle, and twisted with brutal force. She twirled in the air and landed with a horrible thud on her back. The wind was knocked from her, but still she struggled. She was far too enraged not to.

  Rolling awkwardly onto her side, she kicked him repeatedly in the shin. He grunted and grabbed his leg, but only managed in getting his fingers crushed under her kicking feet in doing so. She then managed to maneuver herself just so and began kicking out for his stomach and chest.

  “Stop! Damn it, woman, stop it!” he shouted.

  “No!” she screamed and continued her pummeling.

  Suddenly, quick as a blink, he was on her. His body slammed down on hers brutally, scraping and cutting her back on the littered ground. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he gritted out, his face a mere breath away from her.

  “Well I do want to hurt you,” she spat up at him.

  “I think you broke one of my ribs,” he murmured, sounding oddly detached from the pain if his words were true. “Does that please your offended pride enough?”

  “I wish I had broken them all—as well as that conceited head of yours.”

  He laughed, but it was a dark and self-depreciating noise, without humor or joy.

  She didn’t care for it. She roared and tried to buck him off of her.

  “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m sorry for insulting you. It was wrong of me. I didn’t mean it.” He had to yell to be heard over her cries of impotent rage, holding her down with nearly bruising force.

  “Sorry is not good enough.”

  “Sorry is all I have to give.”

  “I’ll have your blood! I’m not a whore.”

  “I know.” His voice softened to a beautiful, masculine timbre that would have lulled her and soothed her had she not been so completely enraged. “I know you’re not a whore.” His hands gentled upon her. He stroked her shoulders coaxingly.

  “I wasn’t myself,” she cried out defensively, feeling the sting of tears with a sense of something akin to panic or shame.

  He shushed her. “I believe you. And I am sorry. I was angry. I’m such an ass.” He lowered his forehead to hers and breathed gently against her mouth. She couldn’t help but notice how sweet and warm his breath was. His long lashes shielded his eyes from hers as he lowered them. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. My temper. It gets the better of me when you’re near.”

  “Why? What did I ever do to you?”

  You made me want you. Made me want you more than I’ve ever wanted another woman—human or Shikar. But he would not tell her that. “Nothing. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. I do. Please forgive me.”

  “No,” she bit out.

  “In time you’ll have to.”

  “Bullshit. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. And I don’t want to have anything more to do with you.”

  “If we’ll be working together—which I’ve no doubt will be the case—you’ll have to get over your anger. We can’t be enemies, you and I.”

  “You made me your enemy.”

  “I know. I am ashamed of my lack of good grace.” It had been too easy for him, really, to make her despise him. But now he wished to recall his goading words. He’d known too well how to insult her. How to debase her. He cursed himself for a thousand fools. “This was entirely my fault, I admit. Again, I am sorry.”

  Emily eased beneath him, turned her face away from his. “Let me up,” she said softly.

  “Will you talk with me?”

  “Let me up…and I’ll consider it.”

  He rose in an alien, fluid movement, his body moving as if invisible strings pulled it into motion or as if human physicality had no effect on how his muscles worked. He took her hand and gently helped her to her feet. She jerked her hand away from his as soon as she could manage it.

  “I have a proposition for you,” he said.

  “Kiss my ass. That
first time between us was the last,” she swore.

  He smiled, but felt goaded by her vow just the same. Last time indeed. Perhaps…and perhaps not. A few moments ago he wanted nothing more than to push her away—to keep her from getting further under is skin. But now all he could think about was how beautiful and fragile she looked, flushed and disheveled from their struggle.

  And she’d bruised him. He’d not lied in telling her she may have broken one of his ribs. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, her show of strength was serving as a sort of aphrodisiac to him. It turned him on mightily to know that she could hold her own in battle with him. He wondered what it would be like to wrestle naked with her. He almost came right then and there with the images that erotic thought evoked.

  His near loss of control shamed him.

  “It’s not that kind of proposition.” He managed to bring his mind back to the matter at hand. “I have a friend who wishes to meet you. Who wishes to ask you a few questions about what you’ve been doing out here these past several nights.”

  “Why should I care to meet any friend of yours?”

  “Because you seek answers too, no doubt. And Tryton can give you all the answers you could ever ask for.”

  “Tryton, huh? What an odd name. And how about yours? What’s your name?’

  “Edge.”

  “Well I’m sorry I can’t say it was nice to meet you, Edge. And now I really must be going. I’ll thank you to stay out of my way. Or I may just shoot you the next time I see you.”

  He ignored her words for the most part, though oddly enough his heart still hurt to hear the venom spill from her lips. “You aren’t the least bit curious about what’s going on around you? You would give up this chance to learn?”

  Emily sighed wearily. She wasn’t so stubborn that she couldn’t admit to a little curiosity, if only to herself. “Where is this friend of yours?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “That didn’t answer my question. Where is he waiting?”

  “Somewhere safe. Underground and far away from humans. Near the Earth’s core, if you want specifics.” Why he was being so upfront with her he couldn’t have said. Normally they kept their secrets until the last when it came to sharing with humans. How odd that he felt this overwhelming need to be completely honest with her now.

  “Impossible,” she barked out, waving his words away. She’d been a fool to continue this conversation anyway.

  “Very possible, and I can arrange a meeting tonight if you wish.”

  “My ass. Go sell your lies to someone who’s buying. I’m off.” She turned to go.

  “You’ve seen some pretty fantastic things over the past several days. You would balk at believing in this small thing?”

  “A guy named Tryton—as in the sea god—is waiting to meet me near the Earth’s core.”

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t sound a little far-fetched to you?”

  “It is the truth, human.” He sounded decidedly impatient now.

  “That’s crazy. There’s no way that can be possible. The Earth’s core? Come on.”

  “You are quite the cynical one, considering that you are covered in the blood of beasts, and standing before a man who can shoot blades out of his body.”

  She had to give him that one. “Fine.” Emily tried to imagine what she might be getting herself into, and realized it was probably best to leave her imagination out of the whole affair. “Take me to meet this friend of yours—”

  A dozen monsters came out of the night, heading straight for Edge with teeth and claws bared. They gave no warning. As sudden as a thought they were upon them, growling in their foul tongue, like beasts in a feral rage. There was no escape for the two warriors, no time to formulate a defense. Too quickly they were cornered in the alleyway. They were surrounded by their enemies, with no choice but to fight, highly outnumbered though they were.

  Emily gasped and darted for her discarded weapon, which was thankfully, miraculously close enough for her to reach. She jerked the shotgun up before her, only to have it knocked painfully from her grasp by one of the beasts as it reached them. Edge struck out with such amazing speed and grace that Emily barely had time to register his movements as she tried to palm another weapon. Five-foot blades—swords of glowing blue and white—appeared in his hands and he swung them with deadly precision at their enemies. The monster that had struck out at her fell first, crumbling to little pieces at her feet.

  Heads rolled, bodies fell, but still more monsters came to take the place of the fallen, appearing out of the shadows like nightmare visions. Emily’s hand wrapped around the grip of a handgun and she fired it, point blank, into the hellish face of the closest monster. It fell back and without wasting time to revel in her small victory, she turned and fired into another, and another, until she was forced to reload.

  There were just too many of them to gain an immediate foothold against their bombardment.

  Emily had never seen so many at once. And though she had suspected from the first that these vile creatures had been holding back from harming her, she was shocked to see just how very deadly they could be when they wished to destroy their prey. These beasts hated Edge. They feared him. And though they still only sought to disarm her—or so it seemed—they fought with a terrible purpose to wound and destroy him utterly.

  They were cruel and vicious. Their growls were full of hate and fear of the warrior. But Edge was a magician with his blades, cutting his enemies down with such ease that Emily found herself envious of his brilliant skill. She would give anything—anything at all—to be able to fight like him.

  He was as deadly as the monsters. Deadlier. But with the force of good behind each of his deathblows he had a power that was unequaled even in the sum total of the evil that surrounded them. The creatures didn’t stand a chance against him.

  The monsters seemed to realize this fact after at least half their number had fallen under the blades. To Emily’s amazement they turned their attentions to her.

  “Emily.” The monster was reaching out for her, its intent unclear, and Emily hurried to reload her weapon. “Come.”

  “Kiss my ass,” she growled and emptied her clip into the monster with unsteady hands. To hear her name on the lips of that creature…it was a horror she felt would be best to forget. As quickly as possible.

  Though Edge struck down monster after monster, it seemed there was an endless supply of them appearing from the shadows. He grabbed her arm with one hand, cut apart an enemy with the other, and shouted above the din. “If we can manage it, we have to get out of here. Fast.”

  That was the understatement of a century. The night was swarming with their foes. They were vastly outnumbered. Retreat was imperative, but even so, Emily was hard-pressed to give up the fight. After a few more seconds, and a few more fallen bodies, she relented.

  “Do you have any of those little vials with you?” she asked him in a near roar. The sounds of battle were deafening, the cries of the monsters earsplitting.

  “Here.” He shoved a fistful of them at her unquestioningly, using his other hand to fend off one of the beasts. His movements were so swift Emily could barely see them beyond a blur.

  Emily steeled herself. “Get ready to run,” she called and in the next breath she flung the vials onto the asphalt. The glass shattered and the contents roared into flame. Wasting no time Emily raced towards the fire even as the monsters stepped back in their fear of it, clearing a path as they did so.

  She didn’t have to glance behind her to know that Edge was following swiftly upon her heels. His presence was palpable behind her as she fled, ducking from one alleyway to the next, going deeper into dregs of the city in the hopes that their enemies would get lost in the maze. After putting a good mile between them and the battle scene behind them, Emily grew tired and slowed her flight.

  “I think we lost them,” she said, hoping it was so.

  A shadow passed before them. Two hands reached out of the
dark. Emily’s head swam dizzily…and the dark city around her disappeared.

  Chapter Six

  “If you ever surprise me like that again, Traveler, I will spin you on the tip of a Foil until you beg for mercy. If I didn’t respect you as one of Tryton’s closest confidants, I would do it right now anyway.”

  “I’d like to see you try it.” The Traveler’s voice was so darkly compelling, so completely unlike any other voice Emily had ever heard that she was almost mesmerized by it. Though his words were threatening, she could hear a hint of a smile beneath them. It was odd, this touch of humor, coming from a man whose power seemed to roll off of him in tangible, frightening waves.

  “What just happened?” she asked, trembling. She looked around them, at the great stone cavern that dwarfed them. “Where the hell are we?”

  “This is our world, Emily. The world of the Shikar,” a new voice informed her.

  She turned and saw a tall man with long, pale blond hair approach them. “That doesn’t answer either of my questions, you know,” she pointed out.

  “All in due time. Worry about it no more. I am Tryton.” He bowed to her, a courtly show of respect, before turning to the two men who silently watched.

  “Thank you for keeping her safe, Edge. Though from what I understand Emily has held her own quite well.” The man—Tryton—winked at her. “The Traveler was acting on my command when he brought you here. Do not be troubled by it further.”

  Edge bowed, his gesture one of utmost respect.

  Who is this guy, Emily wondered, that even Edge is deferential to him?

  “Though, I think it was a little dramatic an effort on your part, Traveler. Don’t you?” Tryton spoke to the exceedingly tall man hidden in the folds of a deep cowl and cloak.

  “As you say, Elder.” The man’s voice held all the secrets of the world, even as it remained lightly tinged with humor. Emily shuddered delicately to hear him speak and wasn’t sure if she was frightened or intrigued by this strange fellow.

  “Please leave us, so that we may become better acquainted,” he implored the two men and seconds later Emily and Tryton were alone in the stone chamber.