Chapter 5 #2
Diana held still and listened to the soft whisper of air going in and out of Kensley’s nose.
Her bond told her Akela had circled all the way to the back. He was ten yards behind the woman, while Whiskey crouched on Diana’s right, not too far from the direction from which they had originally come.
The wolves waited, and she waited with them. She had waited this long; she could wait a little longer.
Minutes passed, soft and slow. The sun was setting, and the golden and pink light of the sunset was dying slowly, congealing into dusk.
Kensley shifted by the trunk.
More moments, falling down softly like feathers, marked by Kensley’s breaths.
The killer took a slow step from behind the trunk, holding her gun with both hands.
Diana leaned forward, the muscles of her legs flexing, compacting herself like a panther just before it leaped.
Her magic found a red-tailed hawk in a treetop across the clearing. She wasn’t as compatible with birds as Cornelius, but she didn’t need much.
The hawk flew with a screech.
Kensley spun toward the noise, firing two shots in the direction of the sound.
Diana pounced.
She launched herself out of the brush, clearing the distance in a single bound.
Her weight landed on Kensley’s back, and Diana locked her hands on the illusion mage’s neck and yanked her backward.
Kensley’s legs folded under her. She dropped, trying to roll and bring the gun around, but Diana ripped it out of her hand and threw it.
The weapon went flying. Diana let go and bounced away.
Not yet. That would have been too quick.
Kensley jumped to her feet. Her eyes went right, then left, looking for an escape.
Akela and Whiskey emerged from the brush. Whiskey’s golden eyes glowed, catching the last rays of daylight. Akela’s lips trembled in the beginning of a snarl. He showed his fangs, long and white.
Kensley’s eyes went wide. There it was. Fear. Delicious, sweet fear.
Be afraid, Kensley. Be more afraid.
The wolves took a step. Another.
Diana could see the calculation in her eyes. Two wolves or one human.
Kensley charged her, aiming to knock her off-balance. Diana met her halfway. Her hand closed on Kensley’s neck and she fell backward, planting her right foot just above the assassin’s hip. Kensley’s momentum carried her up and over. Her back slammed the ground. The air burst out of Kensley’s mouth.
For a fraction of a second, they were both on their backs, heads toward each other.
Diana flipped over, her hands on the ground, her feet digging into the gravel, as if she were a sprinter crouched in the starting position.
She surged forward, looming over Kensley.
She knew exactly what the other woman saw: her face, shadowed in twilight, her teeth bared, and her eyes glowing with eerie, golden magic.
The color of the glow shifted depending on its intensity, green when her power was a trickle, yellow when it was a river, and right now she was all in.
Kensley sucked in a hoarse breath and Diana slapped her across the face. The blow knocked Kensley to the side. A little harder, and she could have broken her neck.
Not yet.
Kensley scrambled to her feet and leaped as Whiskey bit the air an inch from her thigh. The assassin spun around, her eyes wild and drowning in terror.
There it was, the scent of true fear, spiced with adrenaline, flavored with cold sweat, accented with a rapid heartbeat. Diana let it wash over her and drank it in. Akela raised his gorgeous head and howled, singing a long blood-curdling song that promised pain and death.
“It wasn’t personal,” Kensley stammered. “It was just a job.”
Diana tilted her head, watching her. There was a gap between Diana and Whiskey, ten feet of clear space that led to the slope down the hill. It was Kensley’s only chance.
“It wasn’t—”
Kensley charged, her hand swinging in a punch, aiming at Diana’s face. A distraction, designed to force her to shy back, opening the way to escape.
Diana caught Kensley’s wrist, pulled her forward and hammered a vicious sidekick into the assassin’s ribs.
Bone crunched.
Diana let go, and Kensley staggered back, clutching her side with a whimper. Her first deep breath would be pure agony, and the pain on her face was intoxicating.
Diana stalked toward her.
Kensley spun, trying to run, but Diana was faster. Grasping her shoulder and pulling her backwards while sweeping her legs out from under her was child’s play. Kensley’s back hit the ground, and Diana landed on top of her, her knee resting on the exact spot her foot had connected with.
Kensley howled, a scream ragged with pain.
Diana pulled her knife.
The assassin’s eyes focused on the blade. She struck at Diana, aiming for her throat. Diana knocked the blow aside, pinned her arm to the ground, and thrust the knife into her shoulder joint.
Another hoarse scream. Kensley’s right arm was a useless lump of human flesh. Diana raised her knife.
“Adrian Woodward!” Kensley groaned. “It was Woodward. He wanted the creature. He wants to make a construct out of it. He was very specific. It needed to be alive and delivered today, because he is flying in this evening. He’s going to kill it tonight to see what’s inside it. He needs to know how it works.”
Diana gripped Kensley’s throat.
“Canyon Lake,” Kensley croaked. “Compound. I can show you… It wasn’t personal. Just a job.”
“You hurt my family. You killed. You stole. You made orphans.” The magic sang in Diana’s voice, ancient like the howl of a wolf and the snarl of a panther.
“Please. Please. I will do anything.”
“Bring Kayson back.”
Kensley stared at her, her eyes bottomless with horror.
Diana’s knife sliced.