Burning Dawn
Page 84

He remembered Orson and his twisted desire for her. Desperation and fear, coupled with the wildest rage of his life, flooded him.
Hold him off, Elin, he commanded. I’ve been delayed. Do whatever you have to do to survive. Do you hear me?
There was no reply.
He wanted to command a response from her, but didn’t want to distract her. As he debated what to do, a demon scratched at him. He sliced through the offending arm. As the limb fell, another creature reached for him, poking at his injury and laughing. Thane cringed. But still he fought with all his might, willing to endure anything to reach his woman.
* * *
ELIN HADN’T STAYED in her bedroom. She’d crossed the bathroom in secret and camped inside Thane’s, knowing he would be fragile after dealing with Bjorn. She’d been determined to wait for him, no matter how long it took. She would comfort him and give him whatever he needed, even if he didn’t know he needed it.
The first thing she’d done was stretch out on the bed, and read the copy of Dodge Boulder: A True Alpha Dog Story Bellorie had loaned her. But she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, a hard hand had settled on her shoulder and was shaking her, rattling her brain against her skull. Her eyelids had popped open—and Orson’s smug, smiling face had come into view.
Now she scrambled to the other side of the bed.
The warrior laughed as he withdrew a small dagger. “Your reaction cuts to the quick, girl. It truly does.”
Thane expected her to hold him off, and she didn’t have to wonder why. It sounded like World War III beyond the door.
“Stay away from me,” she spat at Orson.
“Or what? You’ll call me a terrible name?” Smiling evilly, he looked around the room. His every action was unhurried, as if he knew a secret she didn’t. “I see you’ve made yourself at home here with the Sent One. And you’re warming his bed, too, despite his reputation for cutting and running after only one night. What must you be doing to please him?”
“You’ll never know.” This male had taunted her for an entire year. A few times, he’d yanked her into a darkened corner and kissed her, squeezing her breasts and promising—threatening—to do more. Her fear of him had been absolute. But no longer. For the first time, she would fight back.
“Want to bet?” Quick as a blink, he dived across the bed in a bid to grab her.
Prepared for such a move, she darted out of the way and rushed to the dresser where she’d stored a few weapons she’d found in the treasure room, hoping to surprise Thane. She grabbed the first thing she touched in the top drawer. A pair of gold knuckles. Suckwad! But, okay, fine. They’d have to do.
Hot air brushed her back. Orson was closing in. No time to waste. She turned and swung, nailing him in the cheek. The bone instantly cracked—and the gold knuckles did something she wasn’t expecting. On impact, they released sharp, motorized spikes, slashing through the cracks in the bone.
Roaring, Orson batted at her. His fist collided with her skull, and though she saw stars, she held on. He tried to jerk away from her, but the motions only increased the speed of the spikes, one digging so deep and so far up it... Gah! Thank the Most High she’d been inoculated against violence. Orson’s eye popped from his head and rolled to the floor, and all he could do was watch with the other one, horrified.
Elin slid her fingers from the gold knuckles, but still the weapon remained attached to his face.
“You little whore!” He swung a meaty fist at her.
Oh, the pain! There was another explosion of stars across her vision as the taste of copper coated her tongue and caused her stomach to flip-flop.
Took worse hits at the last dodge-boulder practice. The knowledge empowered her. Grinning coldly, she climbed to her feet. Surprised, Orson glared at her with his one good eye.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunted. “Because I’m suddenly wondering why I feared you at all.”
Huffing and puffing with indignation, he stomped toward her. Again, he swung a fist. This time she was prepared and went low, avoiding impact. As she came up, she slid her fingers back through the golden knuckles and jerked with all of her might. Bone and metal finally separated.
He grunted, spittle dripping from his mouth. Then he punched her in the stomach. Air abandoned her lungs, and she hunched over. A vulnerable position. One he used to his advantage, hitting the back of her head. She collapsed to her knees, gagging as acid raced up her throat.
“Yield to me.”
Not now, not ever. Elin crawled to her hands and knees and swung up a fist, smashing the golden knuckles into his crotch.
His high-pitched squeal rang out. Stumbling backward, he yanked at the spikes now embedded in his scrotum. The backs of his knees caught on the mattress and he fell.
She swiped up the dagger he dropped, and without pausing to consider her actions, or what her feelings would be when everything was said and done, she stabbed him in the stomach, once, twice, three times. Blood spurted. Warm blood. Warm blood all over her hands.
She staggered away from him.
As he lay panting, dying, he glared over at her. “I’ll come back,” he choked out. “I’ll come back and repay the favor. You have my word. Only, I’ll make you watch me kill your lover first.”
Teeth bared in a scowl, she waved the dagger at him. “If you think you’re tougher than Thane, you’re dumber than you look. And trust me. You look dumber than a box of rocks. Now, I’ll leave you to your death.” She opened the door, intending to go out and help Thane however she could.
A horde of demons shoved their way inside the room, pushing her aside.
The creatures converged on Orson, as if they’d scented his blood and nothing else would suffice. They began eating his flesh...muscle...bone. He fought as best he could, but as weak as he was, it did him no good. He lost his other eye. He lost his throat, his heart, his intestines.
He became an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Breath wheezed through her nose. Elin knew Orson would never regenerate. Not from this.
When there was nothing but Orson’s spleen—not as tasty?—glowing red eyes lifted and focused on Elin...
Heart drumming erratically, she backed away slowly. “I’m sour. Probably bitter. I suggest you wait for someone sweet,” she said. “It’ll be better for your digestion. Honest.”
The creatures advanced on her.