Page 101 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

He frowns, glances down at my wrists, and then looks at his friend. “Can you believe her?”

I tilt back on the chair’s hind legs and hoist my legs up, ankles latching onto either side of his neck. I throw the rest of my weight backward, taking him with me to the ground.

The flimsy wooden chair splinters with the force of our crash. The wind knocks out of me as the stocky guy falls on top of me, his body slamming onto mine. Something sharp pierces my side, but I ignore it and put every ounce of strength into finishing what the fall started. I snap the now wobbly chair arms clean off the backrest, then elbow the ground. The impact pushes the wooden arm through the sweaty duct tape at my wrists an inch, then stops.

The stocky guy’s head whips to the sound, then gives me a smug look.

“Stupid woman.” He grins in my face. “You hit the wrong end to make it fall out.”

“Oh, I didn’t want it out.” I grin back. “Just loose so I can do this.”

I use the floor to twist the broken length in my right wrist, wincing as the duct tape burns my flesh. I grab the sharp splintered end, then make like Buffy and stake that fucker in the neck. The tape reinforces my one-handed blow and helps me drive the strike home.

My opponent’s eyes widen. He gurgles blood, and then he slumps over me, a dead weight.

“Fucking bitch!” The gangly guy shouts.

A gunshot fires, and then the body blanket shielding me jerks.

I freeze, hold my breath, and pretend to be dead. I’m also desperately trying to work out if I’ve been shot, or if I’m just going numb from the weight.

Boots scuff the concrete floor, shuffling around us, most likely checking to see if I’m alive.

Idiot.

His friend might have survived that stake to the neck, but not the bullets. Warm liquid oozes over my body. I’m not sure if it’s blood or urine. Probably both. My head is to one side, squashed by the corpse’s sweaty head and hair. I can’t see much except for the floor, the crates in the background, the legs of a table, and there . . . a few feet in front of me is the sword.

As if we locked eyes, a thrum of divine energy jolts through me. Hot, prickling electricity buzzes and pulses at me from the direction of the sword. I feel as though it’s calling to me, telling me it’s there, willing and able.

Just reach.

Just believe in yourself, take a chance, and reach.

It’s mine.

“Stupid woman.” A flaky-skinned face appears before me. Two seconds later, something cold and hard presses against my temple. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy making you bleed, bitch.”

I whisper breathlessly, fast and inaudible as I act all weak, panicky, and pretend I can’t move the dead weight crushing me.

He instinctively leans closer. “Begging for your life already?”

The instant he’s within range, I whip out my hand and grab the man’s collar, pulling him closer as I lurch and latch my teeth onto his ear. I bite the lobe clean off.

He screams, drops the gun, and blood goes everywhere.

I spit out the chunk of flesh, shove the dead body off me the rest of the way, and then get to my feet.

Before the gangly guy can recover, I kick the gun away. It spins across the floor and stops under the table. I limp to the sword, pulling the chair’s arm from my left wrist, wincing at the pain in my side. Something had pierced me during the chair crash, but I don’t think I’m bleeding.

The instant my fingers close around the sword’s tang handle, flames erupt down the blade. Power surges into me at such a blinding force, my eyes water.

“Fuck me,” I choke out with a laugh. It feels like my entire body is an inferno. It’s like napalm in my veins.

It works. the fucking sword works. For me. I’m doing this. My throat clogs. “I’m so fucking proud of me.”

The flames ripple excitedly, as if agreeing.

I swing the sword and point it at my opponent. He’s on his knees, one hand on his bloody ear, crawling toward the gun I kicked away. Lips flattening, I stroll after him. It’s only a few steps, but the sword’s light burns brighter, casting shadows, drawing his attention to my arrival. He stops, then turns to me with wide eyes reflecting firelight.