Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
He softened the kiss and stilled, leaning back.
She pressed her palms against his hard chest, marveling at the rock-cut strength there. She leaned in to kiss his chin, then caught a stillness from him. Pure alertness?
His eyes had turned a wild, chaotic blue, and yet he remained still, his chin lifting slightly.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“I’m uncertain.” He lifted her off him and stood, an obvious bulge in his boxers. He reached into a drawer for a green gun and a huge, sharp blade. Much longer than any knife, it wasn’t quite a sword. “Stay here.” He stalked silently toward the door.
She scrambled to grab her shirt and yank it over her head.
He looked out into the hallway both ways, then walked out, disappearing from sight.
Gulping, she grabbed another gun from his nightstand and followed him, keeping her distance just in case she needed to shoot somebody. She wasn’t getting in the fight. She shrieked when a bedroom door burst open and a male smashed into Vero, careening both into the far wall. Plaster rained down and turned the hallway dusty.
The attacker, dressed in all black with even his face covered, slashed a knife down Vero’s arm. “I’m here for you, Prince. You die first…and then I’ll take out the king.”
Vero’s blood spurted across the hallway, spreading across Lyrica’s arm. The liquid burned her and she frantically tried to wipe it off on her yoga pants.
Silver flashed as the male in black struck again. “Vero,” she yelled.
Chapter Twenty
Cold fury washed through Vero as he dropped the gun, his left arm going numb. Snarling, he forced feeling back into his hand and grabbed the attacker, flipping him over onto the hard wooden floor. “Jonathan,” he yelled. He’d put the soldier into the adjoining room on purpose. The guy could fight.
A grunt of pain came from inside the bedroom.
Vero punched down and hit the attacker in the nose before yanking off the concealing balaclava. He was one of the new guys. What was his name? Shelton or something like that.
Lyrica, a weapon in her hand, kicked the guy and he snarled, reaching out to grab her ankle.
“Get back,” Vero roared.
Paling, she stumbled back, her eyes wide.
Shelton punched up, hitting Vero in the nose, and he felt it crack. Damn it. He struck down several times with his bad arm while lifting the knife with his other. He tried to slam it down and Shelton, his purple eyes wide, grabbed his wrist, scissored him around the waist with his legs, and tossed him off.
Vero rolled and came up on his feet, ducking his head and charging as Shelton did the same. He lifted them up and slammed them both down the stairs, where they tumbled end over end. Pain burst in Vero’s hips and shoulders. Several of his ribs cracked, but he ignored them.
When they reached the bottom, he rolled them again, his knife out, and slammed the sharp blade into Shelton’s neck. The blade split into three almost instantly, and the jerk’s head rolled away from his body.
Vero bounded up, blood flowing from wounds in his face and arm, and yanked his knife free. The weapon snapped back to one blade and he charged up the stairs, running into Jonathan’s room.
One male was decapitated on the floor and Jonathan had another male in a headlock. Jonathan’s face was a hard, furious mask, and he choked the other Kurjan out, letting him fall uselessly to the floor.
Vero ducked down, staring at the unconscious Kurjan. “His face is bloody—do you recognize him?”
Jonathan spit out blood. “He’s one of the newcomers who attended the cocktail party earlier. His name is Geoff.”
Vero squinted. The guy’s face was mangled, but he had arrived with the newest group earlier, and he had attended the cocktail party—without a mate. “How did they get in here?”
“Window.” Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know where the guards are. We better find them.” His jaw hardened. “I’m hoping they’re just knocked out and not dead. I can’t live with our own soldiers being killed just while on guard duty.”
“Okay,” Vero said. “I want to take this guy down to the cells and have a little discussion before we kill him.”
“Kill him?” Lyrica asked from the doorway, shaking and pale.
Vero turned. He didn’t have time to argue.
“You can’t just kill him.”
“You’re right,” Vero said. “I’m going to torture him, get the answers I need, then I’m going to kill him.”
She took a step back. “You have no judge? You have no jury? You have no legal system?”
“Yeah, we have a system that works,” Vero retorted. “If somebody tries to kill us, we kill them.” It was pretty simple, really. “I told you to stay in the room.”
Color finally flooded into her face. “Apparently, I didn’t listen.”
“Apparently not,” he said mildly. They would have more than a simple discussion about that later. He looked at Jonathan, who bled from several areas on his chest and neck. “Are you okay?”