Page 20 of Torn Between Two Worlds

“You think you can best us?” The other six men joined in with Jonathan's laughter. “So we have a deal, like you. We aren't in some story book now.”

Stryder's brow raised, and Jonathan's twisted smile curved wider.

“Oh, come now, you couldn't really think we didn't feel her as she read. Pathetic demon, really, you should've known.”

Stryder kicked out and dropped the human nearest to him just because he was pissed. Laughter rang in his ears again. The guy was seriously fucking asking for it, consequences with Ciara be damned.

“Go.”

One word and the remaining five minions pulled their weapons.

“Ciara, duck.” He heard her feet move behind the nearest car in the lot just as a blade whizzed by his head. The poison painted tip reeked, and his lip curled in disgust. “You've got to be fucking kidding me. Again with this, human?” He let loose a low growl and surrendered to the power War shared with him as his second.

The overweight male closest to Ciara went down first. A quick flick of his wrist sent his dagger flying into the male’s stomach. A stride behind him, and his hand wrapped around the hilt twisted and pulled the blade out as the man hit the concrete. But not before a slice of the knife swiped over his left thigh. The poison hit his blood stream, and he hissed in pain. A small nick was not enough to slow him. His hands wrapped around the man's head and twisted. The sound of snapping bones filled his ears, and he smiled, fangs bared.

“Ah, the sound of death in the afternoon. Music to my ears,” his voice was rough from the emergence of War's demonic DNA. “Three down and four to go. Child's play.” He had the gun out of his waistband and fired three times, direct head shots took down the remaining men that surrounded him. He actually purred at the satisfaction of winning a war, and an erection strained against his pants, part of the high that came with the satisfaction of a job well done.

“So, you've taken down the pawns. Do not think the Master cares for their well-being.”

“Do not think he cares for yours,” Stryder sneered and turned as he heard Ciara's breathing next to him. “Damn it, female, I told you to duck.”

His jaw fell open as he looked at her. She was glowing, and with a raised hand, she fired a bolt of something at the Initiative officer. The look on Jonathan's face was priceless, and War's DNA retreated at the sign of a fight won. Grabbing the bloody dagger off the ground, he used the distraction to pull Jonathan's head back by his hair slamming the blade into the guy's throat sending a spray of blood out as it pressed into his Adam's Apple.

“Time to pass your boss a message, Johnny Boy. You tell him to back the fuck off. There is no way in hell you're getting out of that book, and since you seem to know all about it, you know how it ends. How it will always end, even if I can't do it completely on my own.”

The panic in the air was an aphrodisiac. The scent of a terrified soldier, of a war won, always made him high. However, Ciara squeaked, distracting him, and the bastard in his arm jerked his neck across the blade, slicing himself. Her cry tormented Stryder. In war, people died. How the fuck had her last Guardian handled the shit?

“Pussy.”

He dropped the almost dead weight and was thankful no one could see the carnage and blame Ciara since it was broad daylight. He walked over to her and gently took her face in his hands. When she pulled back, he cursed silently. His killing had affected her. Trying to soothe her, he gently kissed her forehand and ran his fingers through her hair.

“Shh, it's ok. It's alright, sweetheart.”

The trembling seemed to go on forever. He would not let her go, not yet. He needed to remind her that he was not controlled by being a Horseman's second. That is who he was…not…not some overlying possession of his soul. He rocked her gently in his arms, cursing being outside on the street. She wasn't crying, though, just shaking and staring at the blood around them. How exactly were they supposed to get rid of it?

“I think… I think I need to go upstairs to the apartment,” her voice was quiet but unwavering. The trembling was slower, but still present.

He growled low as she tugged out of his arms.

“I need to walk-” The sentence trailed off as she slowly made her way to her apartment.

She locked the door behind him and leaned against it, sliding down the structure as a sob wracked her body.

Then it hit him. She had never killed before.

There went his post-success erection.

Ciara hadn't moved somuch as an inch since walking herself up to her apartment. She couldn't shake the sound the man had made as her fire sizzled his skin, ate him alive. Everything was so much different than it had been with Alcott.

An unidentifiable voice floated through her mind,The greater the hero, the greater the villains. It was fitting. Stryder was a strong opponent and evil could only get out while she was reading, and she was reading Demarcus's book. Not to mention, she didn't understand how she'd known to do that. It had certainly never happened with Alcott when he’d fought on her behalf. He could do it sure, but never her.

A shudder traced a path through her body. A tear slipped down her cheek. She could hear Stryder breathing. Could sense him, and it sickened her that he saw that. She was the protected, what must he think of her after her outright display of violence? What did she think of her?

“Stryder, you need—”

His hands wrapped around her, and his lips crushed into her before she could finish. Heat ignited between them as he pushed his way inside her mouth, tangled her tongue with his before pulling back and cursing.

“Fuck, I wasn't going to do that. Shit. I'm sorry. But I know what you were about to do. You're not sending me away. Not right now, sweetheart.”

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