Page 7 of Gemini Kings
Between the gunshots and the barbeque, it’s pandemonium in the Double Gem, with panicky players still clawing through the doors and showgirls stumbling and tumbling in their platform heels down the spiral stair from the rotating bar. The smoke’s burning, my eyes are watering, my throat’s on fire.
And my blooming mobile’s still buzzing.
Shit.
Neo’s nine time zones off, safely tucked away behind the wards (and thank fuck for it, because gods know Red’s never been much good in a fight, unless it’s a spelling bee or something). But his obvious desperation over Zara’s safety—and probably mine, damn it, because he’s sweet like that—it’s eating me alive.
Where are you, love?Still feeling guilty, I grope about for Zara. But there’s nothing, bloody nothing in the link.
My chest gives another ping that feels a bit too much like panic.
I scramble over my fallen foes and skirt the flaming table to get a proper look at the shaft where she vanished.Vasili, I’ve lost track of—
Not now.Vasili sounds petulant, but I’m so bloody grateful to hear him that I take zero offense.Daddy Gemini’s really a bit pissy, and couldn’t we have managed withoutquiteso much smoke? I can’t cast where I can’tsee.And I’ll never get this wretched stench out of my hair.
Sorry, love. I’m instantly contrite, because he knows just how to punch my buttons.
Hmmmm. I’ll make you pay for it later.Then he’s gone. Before I can ask about Zara, blast it.
And I’m alone again inside my own damn skull.
Yeah, I might’ve done it a bit thick with the psi fire. I’d really rather fancy the fire suppression system kicking in—
“Hold it right there, mother fucker!”
That command swings me round in a rush to find one, two, three casino goons big as American linebackers barreling down on me through the smoke. I bare my teeth in a grin.
Bring it.
I snatch the flaming craps stick and brandish it like a fiery sword. That keeps the uglies off me long enough to launch a proper attack. Because I’m not the Academy’s top-ranked fighter for nothing, am I?
I crouch and sweep my leg round in a scything stroke that connects with bruising force and takes out the first bloke at the knees. He drops like I’ve just clubbed him with a battering ram and lands on his coccyx with a yell.
Good.
I hope I broke his fucking tailbone.
I uncoil to my feet, cock my arm, and launch my stick like a burning javelin at the next guy, which makes him curse and veer. That maneuver buys me the tick I need to slide the long knives from my boots and spin into ninja mode.
These knuckleheads are armed with police batons and yeah, they’re big and pissed and snarly. But they haven’t been training in hand-to-hand combat since they were in nappies, which I have. I whirl into the fray like a proper Jedi, hair and cloak flying wide. A few slices from my blades carve through clothes and flesh. Then my hammering sidekick throws one guy into a bank of slots and knocks him out cold.
The last bloke standing legs it out of there, dripping blood all over Mick Gemini’s carpet.
Too right.
This is the kind of action I relish. I’d actually be enjoying myself if not for the gnawing worry in my gut for my girl.
I take advantage of the breathing room I’ve earned with my blades and my rage and my badassery to stride through the smoke to the ventilation shaft that’s swallowed my fucking queen. The fire suppression system switches on with a sputter—finally—and lukewarm water hisses down from the spigots to spray my skin. We’ve still got too many tourists stumbling about to suit me, some of them scooping up fallen chips by the bucket, despite the firefighters pouring through the north entrance and bellowing orders to the civvies to clear out.
But I’m going nofuckingwhere without my mates.
Both of them.
And if that means I need to belly through that shaft after Zara like a blooming garden snake, then that’s what I’m going to do. And if she doesn’t fancy company, that’s too fucking bad. I sheathe my knives and scramble for the shaft. My nostrils sting with a sudden whiff of sulfur and brimstone—
Right before something hard and heavy slams into the back of my head like Thor’s mythic hammer.
White light explodes in my skull and the room tips sideways. I stagger and grab for the wall to catch myself. But my depth perception’s gone to shit. Oh fuck, I’m… falling…
