Chapter 11 Zion #2
They were going to leave their nests soon.
And then meet their end between my teeth.
My core tensed as I forced my voice to remain steady.
“That’s such a nice way to say he wants me.
Or is it her?” I tapped my bottom lip as if in thought.
“Though it doesn’t matter, I don’t fuck the city’s scum, in general.
” I shuffled until Kali’s back pressed against mine.
“You have a sour aftertaste. And I don’t fancy brushing my teeth five times a day. ”
The first soldier, a crew leader based on the triangle golden patch stitched to his uniform, gestured at Kali. “I meant her.”
My grip on the handle of my blade tightened.
But Kali simply rested her boot against my calf, the weight pressing on my muscle, and pulled out her knife. “Is that why you hide behind your masks? So I can’t see how hideous you are?” she bit out.
Yet a slight tremor betrayed her nerves.
And kindled mine.
I couldn’t lose her.
I couldn’t.
One of the soldiers encircling us cursed. “You ungrateful bitch—”
“Enough.” The crew leader raised his hand, and his followers stilled, his instruction having transformed them into statues.
Such obedient puppies.
It had been a while since I’d last had proper entertainment. And when Ilasall had brought it to me on a silver platter, how could I say no?
“Don’t flatter yourself,” the commander told Kali.
Positioned in front of the doorway, he was blocking our only way out.
We couldn’t leap off the roof and survive a ten-story drop.
“Once we learned of how you cheated on your fertility test, we also became aware of the string of dead bodies you’ve left.
This”—he tapped his mask—“is to protect our identities. My men and I prefer not to be hunted by the ones who’ve been helping you.
I seriously doubt your blood is cold enough to have killed everyone yourself. ”
Oh, her blood was cold. As freezing as winter’s embrace. As vicious as a morning storm. As deadly as the nonexistent edge of the world.
So scrumptious.
I licked the tip of my knife to mask the pounding pulse in my temples. “We’re outnumbered one-to-three here, yet you’re afraid of us. Scared like a child of a monster in their closet.”
Kali snickered. “Little boys.”
“We won’t seem so little when we take our reward for capturing you.” The leader lessened the distance between us, stopping between two soldiers, leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him. “You tricked the system. Found a loophole.”
His cold tone raised my hackles. Instinctively, I touched Kali’s hip to check if she was still there. Her back muscles grew rigid against my own.
“You see, I also discovered one. It’s called taking you on a trial run.
” He twirled his wrist, drawing our attention to the green band.
“Right now, you’re common goods. No wristband, no claim,” he told her.
“So before we throw you in with the others, I will determine if your medical records were truly falsified.”
Kali’s laugh boomed across the roof, and the sound of her bitter amusement wormed its way into my heart.
“I’ll peel your face off and wear it to your funeral for so much as daring to fantasize about me lying on your bed,” she sneered.
“What she said.” I crouched to free my second knife from the confines of my left boot. “I’ll even help her to embellish it by drawing some lovely patterns on it. Did you know that your blood has different shades? It all depends on where it comes from: an artery or a vein.”
The commander wiped his blade on his pants, erasing any evidence of how the weapon had ensured Rowan’s end.
“I can’t say that I did. But I’d be down to put the theory into practice.
What do you say? Give her over to us, and I’ll choose either the vein in your elbow or the artery in your neck.
You’ll lose consciousness quickly. Barely any pain.
Or”—his voice dropped—“I’ll force her to kill you herself. ”
Warily, I bumped my fists against Kali’s.
Her blades nicked my knuckles, and I eased at having found her holding the knives as Eli and I had drilled into her—blade pointing backward.
This type of grip allowed you to slit throats, stab between ribs, twist and rip the wounds apart, all while keeping your adversary at bay without much effort.
I whispered to her, “Remember when Ryder and I gave you the tour of our schools? The reversed tag game the children played?”
“Yes.” She tapped her blade against my hip, indicating the direction of the spin we were about to take. “You want to be It?”
“Always,” I confirmed, and then wished her luck. “Go get your mask.”
But my pulse quickened at the probability of us leaving unscathed. They were low. Too low.
“Unfortunately, I’m not in the mood to entertain you today. So why don’t we get this over with? I don’t want my dinner to get cold.” I grinned at the nameless crew leader. “My girl is not properly dressed for the weather.”
I nudged Kali’s right heel. She moved right as the commander lunged at us. We danced the three steps required to switch our positions, leaving me to deal with the six soldiers and her to handle the chatty leader.
Ducking the fist flying toward me, I kneed the tallest soldier in his groin. My knife sliced the inside of his thigh, and I savored the spurt of warmth. If the man wished to blame someone for his death, he could fault his commander, the voicer of ideas. He should’ve kept some to himself.
The soldier collapsed—
Something hard collided with my spine. Air whooshed out of my lungs, and I stumbled forward. Before I could fully straighten, a punch grazed my cheek, and my chin flew toward my shoulder.
My knees buckled. Ignoring the dark spots dotting my vision, I rolled away, my motions fueled by pure muscle memory. Rough concrete abraded my knuckles as I pushed off and threw one of my knives into the eye of my opponent.
The lucky-to-have-hit-me bastard froze, then sagged to the ground.
I licked my gums, tasting iron. “Who’s next?”
The remaining four soldiers split into two pairs, one of slender and tall bodies, their physiques forged for speed, and the other of shorter and stockier builds, brute force their choice of a weapon.
If you didn’t count the knives they all held at the ready.
At least no holsters marked their thighs, increasing our chances of a successful escape.
“Aww, are you too scared to go on a ride with me?” I taunted. Tracking their approach to my front and back, I risked a quick glance to the other side of the roof.
Kali was backing away, toward the building’s edge. The heavily limping commander advanced on her, the steel of his weapons mottled in red specks.
She must’ve torn a ligament in his knee. A move I’d taught her a month ago. Pride swelled beneath my ribs.
“For what you’ve done, I’d pull your guts out and hang you from them if I didn’t have orders to bring you in alive,” he fumed.
“That’s such a nice offer,” she hissed, halting a few feet away from the roof’s end. “But I’ll have to decli—”
A fist connected with my already throbbing jaw.
Dizziness seized my coordination, and I swayed from the loss of my footing.
While I staggered, the soldier who’d pounced on me raised his fist again. But it failed to reach me as his comrade yanked him back by the collar of his shirt.
A snap pierced his protest, and the soldier sagged in his friend’s arms, his head twisted in an unnatural position.
The other pair of soldiers went rigid, staring at their lifeless fellow, both fazed by the turn of events, just like me.
One of their own had turned against them.
The traitor jerked his chin to the clash between Kali and the commander, and the four of us executed his silent order just in time to see her crouch down and yank the leader’s injured leg from underneath him, sending him over the roof’s edge and into a hundred-and-forty-foot drop.
A dull thump signaled the heavy weight had hit the street.
Rising, she wiped her nose, smearing the two rivers of blood pouring out of her nostrils. “You think your masks will protect you?” Clutching a single knife, she turned around. “I kill boys like you for breakfast.”
She rushed toward us, breaking the temporary hold we’d been taken over by.
I twisted to wrestle the two still-alive soldiers, their backstabbing comrade forgotten.
His goal for murdering his friend could be picked apart later.
Especially when he’d decided to insert himself into Kali’s path instead of fighting me.
Sweat slicked my back as I kicked the back of one of the two remaining soldier’s knees, using the momentum to drive my knife into his nape. Leaving the weapon lodged in his vertebrae, I dodged the blade aiming for my chest.
His other knife swung toward my neck, and I spun, weaving my feet into an intricate pattern, my muscles straining, my instincts deflecting the blow the best they could—
A searing burn bloomed on my left upper arm. Heat exploded along the line he’d succeeded in carving out in my flesh.
Jumping away, I slipped in a dark puddle. If not for the traction my boots provided, I would’ve cracked my nose. The fallen soldiers’ blood pooled on the roof, turning it into a field of liquid obstacles.
A half-grunt, half-growl rumbled out of me as I feigned a lurch forward. Side-stepping my opponent, I plunged my favorite knife a few inches below his armpit.
As I tugged my blade free of his body, a slurp matched his gasp. His right lung began to collapse, but as much I would’ve enjoyed witnessing his suffering, I had Kali to look after.
Swiftly drawing a beautiful curve across his throat, I hurried to join her facing off the masked man who’d apparently disagreed with his fellows and had decided to simply get rid of one.
“Who are you?” Kali circled him in the center of the roof, her toes barely touching the ground. At last, she’d ceased overthinking, her gait fluid as she drifted around him.
Wordless, he danced together with her, his own two knives clutched in his fists.
Taking a spot opposite her, I moved in her footsteps, along the invisible ring she was sketching around the tall and broad-shouldered man. Not a strand of hair peeked out from underneath his helmet, not a patch of skin visible, as his leather gloves were melded with his shirt.
Kali flicked her sweat-soaked locks away from her nose, the motion obstructing her vision momentarily, but more than enough for him to close the space between us and catch me by my throat.
Pressure lured warmth to trickle into my face, my lungs encountering difficulty in continuing to supply my cells with oxygen—
His grasp relaxed, and his thumb stroked down my carotid artery in a way so familiar, my breathing hitched.
It couldn’t be.
Couldn’t.
It couldn’t.