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Hell no!
I elbowed up into his ribs over and over again. He shifted a little, and I thought I was almost free, but Fabio was there.
Spiky flipped me over, holding my legs, while Fabio sat on my chest to keep me still. “Feisty one, aren’t you?” He grinned as blood dripped from his nose and down his chin.
He wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand. I think I broke the cartilage in his nose.Good.
“No worries. He likes a little fight. Makes things more interesting.”
“Listen, Fabio. Don’t you dare bleed on me. No telling how many diseases you have.”
He gripped my throat. Oh, come on! Did they have any other move?
“I see someone has been here before me,” he said, rubbing his thumb over Sandy-hair’s bruise. “Who was he? Why did he try to kill you?”
“Get off me, you smelly bastard!”
I pushed, but he was heavy, almost unmovable.
“Oh really? What are you going to do?”
Someone cried out. Pit-bull boy? Fabio glanced over his own shoulder, still holding me down. Spiky released my legs.
I heard scuffling and the sound of steel on pavement. Thankful for the diversion, I planted my feet and rolled my hips up hard. Fabio tipped sideways, releasing his grip on me to catch his balance. I rolled over and scrambled to my feet. He was up and in front of me just as fast, blocking my way.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” He pulled a long knife from a hidden sheath inside the front of his jeans. “Why don’t you come quietly, like a good girl?”
Seriously?
A sudden high-pitched scream drew our attention. Behind him stood Jude, in all of his masculine glory, holding a long sword thrust deep into the chest of Pit-bull boy.
A sword? Just like in the alley last night, everything seemed surreal.
His victim screamed while Jude chanted something under his breath. He held his other hand out, palm flat in the air toward Spiky, who railed and beat against an invisible wall he could not pass.
As Jude chanted, a faint reddish-gold light haloed his body, similar but brighter than the first night I met him. Electricity snapped in the air, raising gooseflesh on my skin. Then it happened again. The flaming light took form around Jude’s body. Wisps of gold swept into rippling arcs around his frame. So beautiful.
Was this real? I knew I was standing there like an idiot, mouth agape, but I couldn’t move. My brain tried to process what I was seeing.
Jude continued chanting inaudible words, his fiery aura growing brighter. Pit-bull’s body combusted into orange flames, shriveling and shrinking into a charred husk. With a wave of his hand, Jude swept the remains of ashy bone into the wind.
He turned his head with eerie calm, fixing feral eyes on Spiky, who stopped beating on the invisible shield still protecting the demon hunter. Spiky staggered backward and ran.
I finally came to my senses, spinning a hard kick up toward Fabio’s head. He swiveled back to me, slicing out with his knife. It cut through my tank along my abdomen. Searing pain burned across my stomach. I screamed.
Jude stalked toward us, swinging his sword in an arc, fixing a murderous gaze on Fabio, who stared wide-eyed at Jude for two seconds, then disappeared after Spiky.
I stumbled, but Jude caught me in his arms before I hit the pavement. He lifted and carried me toward my car. His aura had vanished, and his eyes flashed storm-black. I marveled at how easily he held me.
I’m not a small girl, never have been, but Jude lifted me like I weighed nothing. Funny, the things your mind thinks of in traumatic situations.
Blood seeped through my white tank. A wet trail trickled along the line of my waist to my back. I couldn’t think straight, feeling my mind pull away.
The worst injury I’d ever had was a broken arm from falling off the trampoline when I was seven. I had cried all the way to the hospital, still hurting when we left. That night, my mother settled herself beside my bed and painted Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” all the way around my cast. My arm became a piece of artwork for everyone to admire. Pain cradled in love.
“Where are your keys?” Jude’s gruff voice pulled me back to the present.
“Dropped them,” I mumbled, the blood or the pain making me light-headed.
