A litany of curse words flowed around the flashlight in my mouth. Where in Sam Hill was the edge? Having no other choice, I turned and pulled a dagger out. “Seriously, I am not the woman to test today.”
The flashlight wobbled, the light bobbing in the empty room. No one was there. I locked my elbow to stop the shaking and gripped the dagger with my other hand. I stepped back to press up against the door, to keep my rear covered.
Only there was something already there waiting for me.
Arms wrapped around my middle, and a low chuckle rumbled in my ear. I screamed and snapped my head back—a knee-jerk response. Let me tell you, nothing about that movement had been thought through. But it saved me.
A roar erupted and the arms let me go. I spun and slashed blindly with the knife as the flashlight hit the ground, spinning around uncontrollably like I was in some sort of B-grade horror movie. “Not in the mood!” I yelled, following whatever it was as it spun away from the door.
I took a second swing at the stumbling, snarling creature that I only caught glimpses of here and there in the shadows.
It kept backing up.
I could have taken another go at the door.
“Out of ducks,” I whispered as I bent and scooped up the flashlight, my arms still pumping with adrenaline, but I wasn’t scared. Okay, I was scared, but I was irritated too. The critter snarled and flung something toward me, just a blur. I ducked and a set of chains rattled behind me.
The critter pulled the chains back in an attempt to net me. I jumped, like doing skip rope, and the chains slid under me. Before it could take another swing, I ran at it.
Yup, ran at it.
Tackling it to the ground, I used my body weight to pin it to the floor. Back when I was a kid, I’d wrestled with plenty of smaller critters. Gran had said they wouldn’t hurt me, but they’d always bit and scratched. We crashed to the ground, and I held it down with my forearm across its throat.
Robert sidled up beside me, a shadow in the dying light of the flashlight. “Demon.”
The critter snapped super sharp teeth at me, teeth that were more shark than human. You know, you’d think there would be hesitation in me, being that this was the first time in a long time that I’d truly faced a monster. Its face was sort of human, but not really with narrow slits for eyes and nose, and a mouth that took up far more room than that was needed for anything, as far as I was concerned.
Demons didn’t do well with silver knives, and their eyes were sensitive. I’d read that this last week in Gran’s book.
I had the silver knife in my hand—thank God for that—and plunged it into the left eye of the critter, sliding it through the narrow slit on the first blow. It flailed under me, bucking and screaming as its body slowly went to ash until there was nothing but the set of chains.
Just like that, the critter was gone. I sat back on my heels, breathing hard. “Robert, that was not fun.”
“Demons.” He shrugged as if that said it all.
I laughed and slowly pushed to my feet. “I hope the demon didn’t eat Crash.”
I picked up the flashlight as I headed back to the door, just as Feish pushed her way in.
Her greenish-yellow eyes went wide as saucers. “You . . . what are you doing here?”
“Oh, just killing demons and looking for a ride.” I put my knife back in its sheath, ridiculously proud of myself.
“DEMON?” Feish clutched at her heart and dropped her basket of goods to the floor. “Oh boy, Boss is going to be pissed.”
She rushed past me and I did a slow turn. Crash was here? How had he not heard me yelling? Even asleep . . . unless he was hurt? No, he wouldn’t be hurt. He was some big scary dude that even the Hollows Group had a healthy respect for. As quick as my concern came, it was gone in a flash of understanding that Crash didn’t need me to protect him.
I grimaced and did a quick look for Robert, but he’d slid away once more. The room changed as Feish hit the lights—so to speak. The urns lit up, but they were scattered on the floor, smashed to the ground. Feish started doing quick little turns, cleaning up.
I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “You should check on your boss. I’ll clean up out here.”
She gave me wobbly, tear-filled eyes. “I don’t want to wake him. He will be so angry.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll wake him up. I was yelling and screaming earlier, and he heard nothing.”
Mind you, there was a small part of me eager to wake the blacksmith. He’d only have a sheet on again, no doubt.
One small perk. With what I would only say was a bounce in my step, I headed for the back room I’d been stuffed into on my last visit.
The door was shut tightly. I knocked once. “Crash?”
Nothing. I put my shoulder against the door and pushed. The base of the door screeched across the wood floor, as though splinters were being pulled up.
The room was lit with a few candles, which was completely unsafe, especially in a sealed-off room like this. No one would know it was burning down until he was dead as a doornail.
“Crash,” I called to him from the open door, secretly hoping he wouldn’t wake up.
No movement from the bed though there was the distinct shape of a body under the sheet. He was breathing, the rise and fall of his chest obvious even this far away. So not hurt, not dead.
Good day for me. Grinning, I strolled across to the edge of the bed and bumped the mattress with my knee. “Wakey, wakey.” Nothing. “Really? Jaysus, you sleep like the dead.”
I reached down and put a hand on the bend of his knee, shaking it lightly. Much as I wouldn’t mind getting another look, I was wary enough to recognize that if Feish was nervous, I’d be smart to take it careful.
This deep sleeping, though, it was more than a little ridiculous. I clapped my hands together, shouting his name as I did. That did the trick.
Only I wasn’t expecting him to grab me.
15
Crash grabbed me by one arm and flung me across his bedroom so fast, there was no way I’d have been able to avoid it if I’d even tried. That’s what I got for waking the grumpy blacksmith up. There was a moment of perfect suspension where I knew I was flying, and I knew the impact was going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
My only thought was so, this was why Feish hadn’t wanted to wake him up. Damn, he was a grump.
There was a roar of anger, a jolt of pain, and then Feish was babbling rapidly while the room spun around me.
The last thing I remembered was Robert whispering demon in my ear. Which was my only explanation for what happened next.
A looming figure came toward me, my eyes fuzzy with the blow, and I was up and slashing with both knives before I even realized I was moving, the movements flowing through me as if I knew what I was doing.
“Easy. Breena, easy.”
I blinked up at Crash and the blades I had crossed at his throat. His image came into focus. “Morning,” I said.
“You mind dropping the knives?” He arched a brow at me in a perfect lift that I envied.
I slowly lowered them, managed to slide them into their sheaths, and then wobbled back on legs that were not steady. “Who ate your bowl of sunshine this morning, thundercloud?”
Feish gasped. “Don’t make it worse!”
Crash grunted, but he didn’t yell. “I was up late working. And yes, I sleep deep and wake poorly.”
He stepped forward and then he picked me up. Not like over his shoulder, but like you see in the movies, scooped up like he was going to walk me across a threshold, and oh my God, it was as good as you might have imagined. I felt tiny, and feminine, and . . . he gave a grunt. “Been building muscle, have you?”
“Put me down.” I bit the three words out.
He carried me out into the main room, set me on a stool, and pushed a cup of tea toward me. “Not poisoned, I hope?”
Feish touched my elbow. “No, it will help with the head knock.”
The head knock. I lifted a hand to the bump on the back of my head which felt as though it was growing even as I palpated it. “Damn.”
“Feish said there was a demon.” Crash let out a slow breath and I noticed he didn’t have tea. The pulse in his throat was hammering away, and the flush to his skin was subtle but undeniable.
He really was a grump when he woke up. “That’s what Robert said.” I took a sip of the tea and the familiar bitterness of it made me grimace even as it took me back to Gran. “Feverfew tastes like crap, works like a charm on headaches. Thanks, Feish.”
“Wait, who is Robert?” Crash growled with a sharp look around the room.
“Friend of mine. He’s kind of like Feish, but with bones.” Yes, my words were not really stringing together well. “Feish, did you put something else in this?”
“Yes, I put kava kava in it,” she said.
I groaned. “I get high on kava kava. It’s like . . . it makes me goony.” And then I giggled. “Thanks, Feish, you rock.”
Feish bobbed next to me. “No, thank you. Sleeping master doesn’t wake easily.”
I squinted at her. “You mean someone sent the demon to hurt him?”
“Waited for me to leave for supplies,” she whispered, cringing. I could feel Crash’s eyes on me as heavy as a weight.
I pointed at her. “Smart, you are so smart! They have your Achilles’ heel figured out.” I took another sip of the tea, forcing more of the bitter stuff down my throat. Already the ache in my skull faded, even as the room spun a little more. “Look, I didn’t pop by for tea. I need a ride out to the wildlife reserve. I’ve got a job!” I pumped a fist in the air for good measure.
Feish tugged on my arm. “I’ll take you. Boss, you good?”
“Fine. Take her.” He stood and strode from the room, and damn it, there was no sheet this time. But I only just noticed, which meant I saw only the back end of him leaving. The kava kava had disintegrated my filter, and as he strode away, I couldn’t resist.
“Nice ass!”
He paused in the entryway to the bedroom, just a split second, but I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “That’s right, work it!”