Page 48 of Nightingale

Try to continue what he’d started before.

Sex could be just that, nothing more, nothing attached to it.

Vrea shoved those delicious thoughts out of her head as she climbed for her life. A higher vantage point meant a better shot.

When she reached the top, the first thing she did was whip an arrow out of the leather quiver and nock it, drawing her arm back as far as it would go, until the feathers ticked her cheek. The female lowered her aim for the man that was three-fourths up the cliff, angling the arrow tip and setting it free.

The twisted stringtwangedand the tension relaxed as the arrow dove into his chest like a seagull plunging for a mouthful of fish in the salty sea. He let out a warbled cry, dropped his heavy hammer and plummeted to the earth faster than an onslaught of rain and the storm that almost always followed.

A wetsplatsounded.

She took that as confirmation that he was dead and sent her focus towards one of thesixmen that attacked Rian. It appeared to be never-ending.

Vrea notched another arrow, flipping the shaft until it correctly lined up with her target and let it sail. It struck the back of the closest man, Rian groaning as a spear pierced his lower torso and he went down.

Someone hurdled for him.

She didn’t take the time to think, rapidly pulling another free and not even aiming before letting it fly. It went clean through the male’s head, poking out his eye socket within a second of entry. He went down, as did another as the Prince drove his sword through another’s leg.

That left three, one of which was making for her.

Trying to take the higher threat out before she could wipe them all out. Vrea was ready for him, pulling the cord back as far as it could go and holding until the climber was within reach. Rian could handle the remaining two for a minute, even in his injured state. The first arrow missed, as did the second as the man swerved out of the way in time.

He laughed and continued his climb, even faster.

Vrea was down to one last arrow, inserting it against the thin string and ignoring the hiss of pain on her left arm from where the string had slapped. A red mark was slowly forming on her dark skin, one she knew would bruise over the next few days.

A bruise was a bruise.

She wasn’t that prideful of her appearance.

Vrea lined up her target in her eyesight, bringing the wooden shaft against her arms length and touching the striped feathers to her cheek once again for the best aim. She held and held until she was sure of her mark, releasing the arrow and it buried itself into the man’s tall neck. He spit red, gurgling and choking himself to death as he tried to remove the stick, which only resulted in a quick succession of blood that ended his life even faster.

He died before he smacked against the earth.

Rian let out a noise of distress and she whipped around to see the reason why. He’d disarmed the second man, slamming him against the floor and somehow crushed his head to the point where there was nothing recognizable left. But the last one had him on his back, against the ground as they rolled for control.

Her heart was a nervous wardrum as she plucked one of her daggers free of her belt, rearranging it in her palm to throw, as Teminos had taught her all those years ago. She’d never needed to use them like that before, and there was a pounding anxiety that she tried to push past as she waited for a clear moment to throw.

The very last thing she wanted was to kill her guide and make her way through Carylim blindly. There was no way that she’d get past the spiders without anyone else. It would be almost impossible to sneak past their caverns undetected, let alone by herself. Two chances were always better than one. Not that she liked admitting that, even to herself. Needing help was a weakness, one taught to be shoved away from a young age in Niroula.

Rian struggled and he was losing, badly.

The man had a good four inches of height on him, as well as extra body mass in his shoulders and legs. There was thick muscle in his stomach and back, in the way the joints rippled with each movement.

Vrea just had to hit him.

Rian could remove the weapon and use it to his advantage, but if she didn’t act now then she’d lose him for good.

She couldn’t deny that there was hesitation towards letting another Moordian die. Her mother would be more than proud and her brothers would clap her on the back for a job well done. He was the Prince that she’d been sent to kill in the first place, and now she was free. There was a sweet irony in it, one that she longed to sample. Completion, an end to her last mission.

He could die here and now by the hands of another. Another that would hunt her in turn once he finished killing Rian.

With that thought, the hesitation was over.

Vrea hurled her dagger and watched as it sank into the massive man’s back. Near the spine and as she started her descent downthe mountain, she caught sight of the Prince as he rolled them over once more and used every bit of his body weight to slam the rogue back against the ground.

She immediately understood what he was doing.

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