Page 88 of Court of Evil

She looks around before nodding at me. Both of us know what we have to do.

“Let’s go!” I roar to my men. Trusting them to follow and survive, I shoot a path to the door. Once outside, I toss the grenade back into the room, keep hold of Fang, and start to run.

I hear more footsteps behind me, but when I glance back, I see it’s Addeus, Jarek, Tem and Zeev. Ronan pops up in front of me, and just as we turn the corner, the grenade goes off. The gas will fill the room, choking them and hopefully knocking them out. We use it for big nests so we can head in without being attacked, and I hope like fuck it works on whatever they are now.

Keeping hold of Fang’s hand, I dive into the truck and spin the tires as the others dive into the back, and I peel away before their doors are even shut.

When I fishtail out onto the empty, dark road, the headlights of the truck splash across a figure in the middle waiting for us. I slow and then stop as he lifts his head, a knowing grin on his face.

Black.

I stare at my old major, or what he has become, my heart hammering as his eyes light up with a wicked gleam I know far too well.

It’s a trap.

“Back it up! Turn around!” Fang yells.

He grins wider, and I grip the wheel tighter, my nostrils flaring in fury. “No.” It’s what he wants. Jerking the truck into gear, I slam my foot on the gas and barrel towards him. We grow closer and closer, but he doesn’t dive out of the way, andwhen we hit him, he goes up and over the vehicle, cracking the windshield as he hits the top.

I speed off, glancing in the rearview for him, but I don’t see him. Suddenly, my window smashes and a hand grips my throat, trying to jerk me from my seat. “Take the wheel,” I hiss at Fang, and when she grips it, I stab my dagger into Black’s arm. It does nothing but piss him off, and I’m slammed into the door. A grunt escapes me at the pain as I feel the others reaching for him.

“He’s mine,” I hiss, truly pissed off now. Not only did this bastard torture and try to kill me, but he also made me think he was dead and didn’t even have the decency to stay dead. “Fang, drive.” It’s all the warning I give her as I kick my door open, knocking his arm away and gripping the edge of the doorframe. I haul myself up and onto the roof, crouching as the car swerves, and I glare at Black.

He kneels before me, his arm extended and twisted at his side from where it just broke.

Pulling another dagger from my side, I brandish one in each hand, panting as I wait.

He snaps his arm into place, and within seconds his fingers flex, even crushed and facing the wrong way.

“What the fuck are you?” I demand. “What did you do to yourself, Black?”

“What I had to.” He chuckles, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Now it’s time to finish this. You should be dead, Tate.”

“So the fuck should you, but I guess we are both disappointments,” I retort.

“Enough talking.” He dives at me.

I slide to avoid him, and he almost tumbles from the roof, but he catches himself at the last minute as the truck jerks to the side. I use it to throw myself at him, one blade aimed at his chest and the other going towards his neck to carve off his head.

No fucker can survive that, so it’s a safe bet.

As I’m sawing through his neck, his arm comes up and snaps onto my wrist. My fingers open reflexively, and he kicks me back. I hit the roof hard, the breath gone from my lungs, and then his hand is in my hair, dragging me up until I hang over the edge of the front windscreen. I manage to bring my arms up just in time as his fist slams into them. He rains punches across me, my arms aching with the force, and I grit my teeth as I try to block him, but he gets tired of it. Growling, he grips one of my arms and yanks it out and to the left. I feel it pop out of its socket, and I swallow my scream as it instantly goes numb. His hand slides around my throat as he grins down at me, tightening his hold and cutting off my oxygen.

I choke even as I kick out, trying to dislodge him. It would have worked before, but not now. Whatever Black is, it’s something with a huge amount of strength.

“I’m going to rip your head from your body and feast on your insides,” he threatens, “and then I’ll do the same to the ones helping you before I go back to Stalkers’ Rest and kill every single one of them.”

I kick out once more. His hand loosens, and I scramble for anything. I need to get rid of him and fast.

“I’ll make this world dark like my soul,” he snaps.

My head rolls to the side and then back, and I see what I need to—the bridge. Turning back to him, I grip his ruined shirt and grin in his face as I jerk him closer. “See you in hell then,” I snarl, and I count down. Just as we reach the bridge, I kick and push with all my might, lifting him off me. He hits the bridge and flies from the top of the truck.

Lying as flat as I can, I wait for us to clear it and then groan and roll over, gripping the passenger door. My other arm isn’t working, so I have to reach down, open the door, and slide in with one arm. It’s hard work, but I make it happen and slam itshut. My hand goes to my shoulder, feeling it. It’s dislocated, and I can’t fight like this, but it’s clear Black and the others aren’t going to give up.

Numerous voices reach me. “Are you okay?”

I nod, gritting my teeth as I extend my arm and, with a jerk, snap it back into place. A hiss escapes my lips, and I test my grip. Luckily, it’s working, just sore. Glancing at Fang, I grin. “Great driving, babe.”

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