Page 15 of Thrown to the Wolves

Such certainty, such conviction… Oh, it’s designed to chill me, but all it does is stoke my excitement.

“Is that so?” I circle her slowly, letting my eyes roam over the toned curves of her body, the elegant arch of her leg as she shifts her stance, ready to strike or evade.

Someone has taught her well.

But she’s nowhere near as experienced as I am. And experience makes all the difference. I keep her talking while I size her up. “If you wanted me, why didn’t you come for me? Why kill everyone but me?”

“I wanted to draw you out,” she says. “Took a while. But you came looking for me in the end—didn’t you?”

“Tell me how you did it,” I say softly. “If you really did. You must be a seasoned warrior to take out so many of us.”

She proudly lifts her chin, simultaneously angelic and severe. “The same way I did it with you, acted like some damsel in distress. You assholes always take the bait if you think you can get the jump on an easy target. I pretended I needed some big strong man to protect me, and it was that easy to get them all alone. They were too busy watching for witnesses to watch me.”

I tilt my head to one side. “Do you think I was planning to—how did you put it—’get the jump on you’ last night? Honey, I might be a killer, but I’m very fucking expensive, and I sure as hell don’t work for free. None of us do.” I’m getting pissed, now. “If any men from the Syndicate helped you back to your car, it’s because they wanted to help. You murdered them for their manners.”

“It wasn’t murder,” she shoots back. “It was justice. Same as I’m about to deliver to you!”

She’s literally crazy. That’s the only explanation. Time to put this to bed. “Then why don’t you stop holding back and come at me?”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. Scarlett launches herself at me with a scream, all her ferocity and wrath unleashed, but that’s exactly what makes her so easy to deflect. I block her first few strikes easily, reveling in her fire—so much more entertaining than the meek, beguiling act—and I wonder with regret if I should have bedded her again before killing her.

We trade blows, her fists and feet a whirlwind blur as she pulls back her focus and begins to attack with more control. Knees, elbows, deceptive feints and blistering combination strikes…she fights with an almost gymnastic style that admittedly keeps me on my toes, blocking and parrying and slipping away from her onslaught.

I let her vent her fury, staying on the defensive as I analyze her technique, committing every tell to memory. She’s fast, I’ll give her that, with a sprinter’s athleticism that allows her to launch a blitz of acrobatic kicks and strikes.

But there are unforgivable gaps, far too many opportunities for a counterstrike if I was so inclined.

And I really shouldn’t play with my prey.

So I catch her next spinning heel kick and use her momentum against her, yanking her off-balance and flinging her down on the bed in the corner. She tries to roll away but I pounce, straddling her and pinning her wrists above her head with mine in an inexorable vice.

I loom over her and consider my options. One final, decisive strike is all it’ll take…

But something stays my hand, some strange impulse that has me simply laughing down at her flushed, snarling face instead. “Not bad,” I pant, delighting in the trembling anger radiating through her body, pinned and helpless beneath me. “You’ve got some skills. More than I expected from a vigilante brat.”

A rich bloom of color stains those high, sculpted cheekbones as Scarlett bucks and writhes beneath me. But I’ve got her locked down tight, my thighs squeezing hard around her torso.

“Fuck you,” she spits. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to skin you alive for what you did to my brother.”

Brother? What is she talking about? The one who was killed in a mugging? I’ve never?—

Before I can demand an explanation, Scarlett suddenly thrusts her face toward mine. For a wild, crazy second, I think she’s actually trying to kiss me, unleashing some final act of desperation…

And I let my hands slacken on her wrists, just a little.

It’s all she needs. She twists, reaches out, and then a cloud of smoke flows into my face, filling my lungs with a thick, burning fog. I reel away, coughing and choking as the mist stings my eyes. I lash out blindly, but my swinging fists connect only with empty air as Scarlett slips free of my hold.

“You sneaky little bitch!” I cough out, swiping at the dissipating haze as I blink away tears.

The sound of a window opening makes me whirl around just in time to see Scarlett’s silhouette vanish through the open window, out onto the fire escape.

I surge across the room and fling myself out the window, onto the fire escape, hoping for fresh air as well as a glimpse of my quarry. Leaning perilously out over the precipice, I scan the quiet street three floors and see her disappearing around the corner at the end of the alley.

There are a score of streets she could be running down by the time I get there, or she might even have a getaway vehicle—or a partner. No point burning my lungs any worse by chasing her down.

With a growl of mingled frustration and admiration, I climb back into the apartment and kick at the nearest piece of furniture, a spindly side table that cracks satisfyingly against the wall. The smoke is clearing fast, but, needing air still, I double over and brace my hands on my knees, trying to make sense of the chaos that just erupted in here.

That lying, manipulative little…

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