Page 64 of Stone Cold Touch

“No,” I said, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m trained, you—Whoa.”

The thing had rounded the end of the lockers, and it was completely, buck-ass naked. Not like that was the most disturbing thing about the creature.

It was shaped like a man, standing nearly seven feet tall. Muscles rippled under shiny, moonstone-colored skin. Two thick horns jutted from the top of its head, curving inward. The points were sharp, and I had no doubt that if this Nightcrawler head-butted someone, it wouldn’t end prettily. Pupils shaped like a feline’s were set in irises the color of blood. And it smiled, flashing two razor-sharp fangs.

Roth was so damn fast.

Whipping down, he pulled two long, slender instruments out of the sides of his boots. Iron blades. I had no idea. Wow. The fact that he carried something so deadly to his own kind...was really sort of badass.

He slammed into the Nightcrawler, shoving his blades into its midsection. The Nightcrawler roared, knocking Roth to the side. He hit a locker with a grunt. Metal gave way, and he dropped the blades. One landed in the gunk, the other skidded across the floor.

“Blessed be,” muttered Gerald, backing up.

Pushing down the bitter fear that was useless, I darted across the floor, swiping up a blade. Roth had wrapped a black cloth along the handle, but I could still feel the heat of the iron as I rose.

Roth shouted at me, and my adrenaline kicked my senses into high gear as the Nightcrawler whirled on me. It cocked its head to the side, sniffing the air through bull-shaped nostrils, as if it couldn’t figure out what I was.

Charging the Nightcrawler, I came up short when it simply vanished and then reappeared behind me. I spun around. Two puncture holes in its heavily muscled stomach bled a white substance.

I swung on the Nightcrawler, and it popped out of existence, reappearing a few steps to the left. Dropping down like Zayne had taught me, I went for the creature’s legs, remembering just then that the thing was really, legitimately naked.

Yuck.

Before my kick could connect, the Nightcrawler dipped to the side, opening its mouth. I lurched to the right as a stream of white acidic-smelling liquid shot from its mouth. Momentarily distracted by that, I didn’t move quickly enough when it swung out with a heavy, clawed hand. I jumped back, but its claws ripped through the front of my sweater, snagging me. The air went out of my lungs as my eyes locked with the thing. There was a quick burning sensation, and then the Nightcrawler stumbled to the side.

It spun on Roth. Moving disturbingly fast, it caught the other blade Roth now held in his hand and snapped it into two.

“Crap,” muttered Roth.

Then it had its hand around Roth’s throat, lifting him off the ground. Its body vibrated as it cocked back its head, baring lethal fangs, preparing another venomous spray. Gripping the meaty wrists, Roth pulled his legs up and used the Nightcrawler’s chest as a springboard. The action broke the creature’s hold, and Roth hit the floor, springing back to his feet.

I rushed around the rotted bench, hitting the stunned Nightcrawler in the back with the kind of kick Zayne would’ve been proud of. I swung back the hand that held the blade, prepared to deliver the jerk back to Hell with a direct stab to the heart.

The Nightcrawler popped out, and I hit the floor, catching myself at the last second before I face-planted in a bunch of muck. Reappearing above me, it grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and lifted me right off my feet.

Bambi shifted across my stomach as pain exploded down my spine from the tight grip, but I swung my leg back, connecting my foot where it counted. Howling, the Nightcrawler dropped me and bent over, cupping itself.

I landed on my feet and swung around, seeing Roth coming up behind it. Not wasting a moment of having the upper hand, I slammed the iron blade into its chest, jerking back quickly. White mist streamed out of the wound, fizzing in the air. The Nightcrawler’s howl ended abruptly as it burst into flames. Within seconds, nothing remained but a patch of scorched floor.

Breathing heavily, I staggered back a step as I lowered the blade. My eyes met Roth’s. He looked shell-shocked as he stared at me. “What?” I huffed out.

He shook his head slowly. “I forgot you could fight. And I forgot how incredibly hot that is.”

My eyes met his for a moment and then I glanced at the lockers, then over to where Gerald had plastered himself against a wall. A look of abject horror filled his expression. “You said almost all of these lockers are full of those things?”

Gerald nodded.

Stomach tumbling, I swiped the fine sheen of sweat off my forehead. “That’s problematic.”

“I could clean them out,” Roth suggested.

“What if there are more about to wake up? There’s no way you can take on more than one of these things at a time.”

He frowned at me.

I sighed. “Don’t be an idiot. It has nothing to do with your skills. We barely took one of them out together.” I flicked my gaze to Gerald. Some of the color was returning to his face. “Sorry, but we need to bring the Wardens in on this. I won’t tell them about you, but I’d make sure you stay hidden while they’re here.”

Gerald nodded again.

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