Page 54 of Sweet Touch of Venom

It must be the leader, the one that was a part of the kidnapping with Ronan and Carter. My heart picks up its pace again, my sweaty hands tightening the grip on my weapon as heat forms around my head. I’m not afraid; I can’t help the nerves that fold through me.

Scarlette’s voice whispers in my head.We have each other.

“Anita.”

My heart jumps at my name coming from a man with that accent. The situation is dire, but he’s calmer than I imagined. I lift my chin, flicking my eyes to him. Those once-honey eyes that are now blacker than the gun he’s holding are transfixed on me, as if he can feel the rocky nerves and heat steaming off me. He nods, giving me a look of surety; it’s so strong and telepathic, like he’s saying he has my back.

Andthat. That does something to my pounding heart that now beats normally. It lowers my nerves and sparks my fire, and I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or ashamed. I ignorethe feeling for now; swallowing down my pride, I nod again, looking back at the door.

“Come out now or die where you hide.” The man roars once more.

Boone walks up carelessly to the door, as if we have all the time in the world. He fishes for the lightning smoke grenade and plucks it off his pants. Then he halts, glancing back at us with a straight face. “It’s time to play,” he says in a sultry Manchester accent. He tosses the lethal metal up and down like a baseball.

And that alone releases the bane in me, like the stick flicking on the matchbox. I crack a grin, hooding my eyes as we all step back.

“I’m so ready,” Mal says, cocking her weapon. We each grab the vision goggles from our gear and place it on, securing it.

Boone kneels on the opposite side of the door, then he cracks the door open quickly, throws the device out, and shuts it. He retreats still low to the floor.

I grin wider, speaking under my breath. “Three, two, one.”

BOOM!

The outside shrieks with growls and screams from grown ass men. “Oh shit!”

We rush to the door, swinging it open, and we shoot and kill anyone in our sight. I toss my knife directly into a man’s skull. He goes down instantly. The surrounding area is smoky, and because the bomb gives off a shuttering white flash, it immediately blinds their vision.

Men are leaning over holding their eyes shouting, some are on the ground crying out. Others are flailing through the air in hopes of ridding the fog. It won’t work unless you are wearing one of these handy things on my face.

I catch Ronan and Boone both side by side, hitting and killing the men with their guns instead of just shooting them. A figure tackles me to the ground. An oomph escapes my breath, but Iinstantly push my knee up, jamming it straight in his ass to lift him over me. He’s big as shit, but my quickness throws him off balance.

He topples above me, letting out a spur of curse words. Regaining my balance, I flip out my poisonous knife, spin around, and kneel, swiftly swiping it, and slicing his jugular. I stand up, repeating my movement, attacking another member trying to shoot me.

I peer around, spotting a large man with restored sight, now charging toward Ronan, but he is distracted by two other men—that he is violently beating. I quickly dissect the situation. Boone is busy slamming his gun into men’s faces, and Mal is shooting others.

My heart picks up pace. I’m sure he’ll see the man stalking up to him.

The man pulls out a large machete, and my eyes widen. Ronan is snuffing out the last weasel, but he still doesn’t notice.

Shit.

Only I’m supposed to be killing him, not this asshole. Before I know it, I’m sprinting to the other side of the room with my dagger.

I run up behind him fast enough as he’s lifting his machete; panic attacks my heart once the sharp knife swings down. He’s so distracted by his thirst for Ronan’s blood that he doesn’t hear me shout.

“No!”

Chapter 21

Venom

Iscream shockingly loud, trepidation causing my chest to tighten. Ronan quickly turns to my voice, eyes panicked, as if I’m the one in trouble. But then ducks swiftly to the side. I kick the machete out of the man’s thick hand, then I spin, ducking as he swings before jamming my blade into his chest. He growls out, stumbling back. I look over at Ronan, whose eyes fall on me with an appreciating gaze. He nods softly before his eyes grow dark as he looks back at the man who’s still holding my blade to his arteries.

Ronan lifts his heavy boot, kicking the man right in the blade, digging it further into his bones. He screams and falls to the ground, crimson pouring past his lips. The gunshots stop, and the sound of fists and metal hitting bones come to a halt. I look up to see every man is down or dead.

Ronan bows downward, his elbows on his knees. Mal and Boone stand beside me watching their headman become a menace.

“Fred escaped. He’s not in the pile,” Mal says.

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