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Well, well, well. This sleepless night has turned out to be more fruitful than I could have predicted. The fear in this fascinating woman’s eyes is at war with the glee I feel at having found her in the middle of her grand escape. How fun it is to be the one to thwart such a feat.
“Seems you’ve slipped your security detail. What’d you do, feel around in his pants until you found the key?” My eyes roam down her body and to her wrists, specifically the wrist that’s no longer wearing a metal bracelet, and they widen with pride.
Releasing my hands from her arms, I grab her wrist with a gentleness that seems to surprise her—which offends me, honestly, because I can be damn gentle when I want to be—and lift it up to get a better look in the starlight.
My grin widens when I see the dislocated thumb. It’s beautiful, all mangled like that. A work of art, really. “You must’ve been so eager to get away that you didn’t bother fixing this first. Not to worry, I can do that for you.” She tugs her hand back, but I tighten my grip around her wrist—causing her to wince in pain—and run my tongue along my lower lip. “You may sneak away from Griffin with ease, but you can’t escape me, no matter how hard you try. Not when I’ve got my claws in you, love.”
“Please, don’t hurt me.”
Her plea excites me. But I won’t hurt her. Unless she wants me to, of course. I’d even let her choose the weapon. I’m a gentleman like that.
Lifting her hand to my lips, I place a chaste kiss on her injured thumb before shoving it back into place. She lets out a scream, which I silence by shoving her face against my chest. It’s only when she whimpers, that I remember she’d hurt her nose there only hours ago when Griffin made her slam into the ground during her first escape. That’s fine, though. If her nose is broken, then I’ll fix that, too.
Moans soar toward us, low and far enough away that we have plenty of time to prepare for their welcome. I wonder if I should wake up Griffin and William to come play with us. They’ll probably ruin the fun, like Griffin did last night when he ruined her dance with the dead. If I knew where Griffin hid the car key, I’d even play music for her. Well, we have William, at least. If he’s up for a little performance, that is. Something he hasn’t done in a long time.
Realizing that I’m probably suffocating her, I pull her back and look at her face and sigh. Nope, no broken nose to fix. Shame.
“Well, love, looks like we have a choice. We can either add more wood to the fire, or we can fight the rotters together. I’ll even wake up William to play music if you want to dance while doing it.”
Panic blankets her face and I tilt my head to one side, wondering where the fearless woman went to. I don’t like that she’s been replaced with such a panic-stricken girl. I want my fearless back.
“Aha.” I snap my fingers when the realization hits. She can’t fight off rotters with her bare hands. That’s what the problem is. If she could, then I’d marry her on the spot. We’d have a bloodbath of a wedding. An entire section filled with the heads of the dead who brought us together. Their entrails would be tossed like flower petals. We’d end the celebration with music and a massacre. It’d be glorious. Too bad she doesn’t look like there’s even a chance of her being into that. No worries, I can be quite convincing.
She whimpers and tries to pull away, but I hold on tighter. The rotters get closer. I can hear them behind me, dragging their rotting corpses across the grass toward us. The fires have died low enough that they won’t keep them all at bay any longer. What a beautiful night this is going to be.
When I don’t let her go, she screams. It’s such a beautiful scream, too, one that I could listen to all night long. Until she screams out for Griffin and William. That shatters the fantasy, but I guess it wouldn’t be fair if they didn’t get to play, too.
With a chuckle, I place a knife in her hand. “This here is one of my favorite knives. I even sharpened her after you went to bed, so she should treat you well.”
Her fingers wrap around the knife as though it was made for her. She looks up at me with amber eyes full of confusion and awe. “What makes you think I won’t stab you with it?”
My grin widens. This woman, she really knows how to sweet talk a fella. “Well, fearless. I didn’t realize you were into that kinda foreplay. But first, show me what you’ve got, and then we can circle back around to that.” With a chuckle, I wink and then spin her around, pushing her toward the growing horde of rotters.
A tent unzips behind me and there’s a scramble near our main fire pit at the same time she yelps. Perfect, now we can all watch her in action together. Man, I really wish I had some popcorn. I make a mental note to pick some up the next time I get a chance.
Emily wastes no time jumping into the fight. Not that she has much of a choice when a half-rotted dead man grabs her shoulder. For a split second there I wonder if everyone is right and I really am too crazy to think clearly, but then she moves into action, slashing and stabbing, pushing that worry of mine back.
She works wonderfully with the knife. Blood, flesh, and guts soar through the air. I let out a howl into the dead of the night—pun intended. Griffin curses at me when he flies by, jumping in to fight alongside Emily against the growing horde, while William throws more wood onto the dying fires. After stoking three of the firepits back to life, he creates a makeshift torch and jumps in front of Emily, holding the flaming torch out to keep the rotters away from her while she destroys a more manageable number of them—like one at a time, much less enjoyable.
Deciding they can’t have all the fun at this party that I created, I unlatch my new morning star from my back and start swinging. Debbie wants to get drunk on carnage, so I give her all I can. I cackle like a madman. Well…like myself, really.
With all four of us fighting together, it doesn’t take long for us to eliminate all the rotters. It’s a bummer, though, because we never got that music playing. Griffin did curse to a nice rhythm, but it’s not the same.
Emily is pulling her knife from the skull of the last rotter when I step up behind her and spin her around. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, which is so small in comparison, I stop her motion, the tip of the knife less than an inch from the bridge of my nose. With the usual grin on my face, I bring my face in close to hers, causing the tip of the knife to press against my chest, almost close enough to put a hole in my shirt. “My little fighter.”
She pushes against me with her free hand, but I don’t budge. “I’m not your anything.”
“No, but you will be. Not everyone can fight with my favorite knife the way you can, and I intend to see more of it.”
Griffin’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I glance back at him. The empty handcuff still hangs from his wrist. He looks angry. I love it when he’s angry. That means there might be more death and fun to be had. “Did you uncuff her?”
I smirk. “Sleeping beauty here dislocated her thumb and escaped while you slept soundly. Since you clearly can’t hold on to her even while handcuffed, I’m going to have to do it myself until you learn how to keep a better eye on your toys.”
Shrugging his hand off my shoulder, I drag Emily over to the fire that’s still burning brightly in front of the tents thanks to good ‘ole Willie. I sit down on the ground with my back against the log where she ate her dinner—and Willie’s, what an appetite—and pull her down in front of me, settling her in between my legs.
