Page 11 of Scars Run Deep

I didn’t react to pain like most others.

Not anymore.

You might say I thrived on it.

And when a spot of violence was thrown into the mix, let’s just say that all bets were off.

As one of them stepped back from me and moved to open the passenger door, I ran with it, drawing my knife from my ankle holster, spinning it in my hand, then driving it straight into the other guy’s carotid artery. His eyes shot wide. He moved to scream, but couldn’t. I’d taken that ability away. Along with his life. I shoved him away and he collapsed in a gurgling heap.

As his partner moved to react, I shoved on the open door, trapping his arm inside. He roared as I spun, gaining some momentum, then slammed my boot into the door, a satisfying crack sounding, indicating I’d broken it. I wrenched him free of the door by his mask, then smashed his face into the window. One. Twice. Three times. It shattered and I released him roughly, his limp body sliding down the door and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

With them dealt with, I spun around, blinking back the powerful wave of dizziness that gripped me. Adrenaline was helping me out in a big way.

And something else too.

These fuckers had made the mistake of awakening my bloodlust.

The thirst to spill more, to exact more punishment and violence, coursed through me like the ultimate powerful drug, putting me in that altered state where nothing could touch me, where nothing could fucking well stop me.

Where pain became power.

Where I relished the hurt.

Where it pushed me onward and fed the darkest parts of me at the same time.

It was beyond euphoric.

“Fuck, yeah,” Jonah whooped as I passed him on by on my way to Aurora who was now being swarmed by more masks, becoming their target to drag away now that they’d just failed with me. His eyes widened when he saw his blade he kept holstered at the back of his belt in my possession. He called it magic. Really it was just sleight of hand. I’d lifted it while he’d been distracted gawking at me. “There’s my boy,” he said, before he smashed the head of one of his opponents into the trunk of their van, then looked out at me again.

He kept his eyes locked on me as he licked his bloodied lips and ran his fingers over his dripping knife in one hell of an erotic display that had my cock reacting. As if it wasn’t already having a field day as it was.

“You got this?” I asked him as five more masks headed for him.

His eyes lit up like it was fucking Christmas morning as he took them in hightailing it over to him. “No holds barred?”

“Save me one.” I wanted answers. I needed to know who these Heretics were, why they were gunning for us and so intent on bringing me and Aurora in.

He gave me a chin lift, and then he was bellowing out a battle cry and charging them.

I turned my attention to Aurora. She was over by our car now. I winced as she was shoved into the trunk, then bounced off from the brutal impact, and landed on her hands and knees in the mud.

Four masks closed in around her.

“You’re making this much harder on yourself than it needs to be,” one of them told her.

She snarled up at them, so fucking beautiful with the fierce, animalistic look on her face, blood all over her face and soaked, matted hair, caked in it and a shitload of dirt. She looked like a wild thing. My little beast in all her glory.

She’d lost her gun somewhere along the way, but that didn’t faze her, even as they closed in around her.

As one of them reached for her, she sprung from her hands and knees position and launched herself at them, wrapping her legs around their waist, and squeezing with her thighs, holding them glued to her as she slammed her elbows into the back of their neck, their back, over and over, until they lurched forward and tried to pull her off, slamming her down onto the trunk.

Right where she wanted them.

She used the momentum to rear back with her hold around their waist, and hauled them over her head. They hit the roof of the car with a jarring thud. She somersaulted back to her feet just in time to deliver a brutal roundhouse to another incoming assailant.

The bastard was a little faster than the other one and managed to catch her next kick before it connected, grasping her ankle. He tugged, ripping it out from under her and she cried out as she landed on the trunk, choking.

The three of them moved in, the guy on the roof easing off and staggering around to join them.

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