Page 79 of Venomous Lust
“It’s the Medina! It’s attacking!” Hazel screamed as the first Ilarian guard was slashed in two by a tall, large white root, his torso rolling all the way to Knut’s feet. The Avonie took a hasty step back as the Ilarian flailed his arms, panic finally lighting his eyes with an emotion before clouding over with death.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the Eoks hesitate between keeping their ionic guns on Khal or turning them to the roots, unsure of what the greater threat was.
Khal. The greatest threat was always Khal.
Confusion spread like wildfire as Ilarian guards broke their ranks, spreading out in orderly files under their leaders’ commands. White roots attacked them from all sides, but still, they showed no fear, retrieving ionic blades from their belts and slashing at the roots, stepping over their fallen comrades without a single glance.
Another noise sounded from where Khal was bolted to the rock. He hadn’t stopped struggling and now his wrists were covered in blood where he pulled against the shackles. A great crack had finally appeared in the stone.
He’s going to break free.
“Kill him, you fools!” Gerkin shouted at the Eoks. They had finally decided that the Medina was the greatest threat and were momentarily turning their backs to Khal, pointing their ionic guns at the roots.
Gerkin had forgotten all about Hazel for a second.
A second was all she needed.
She twisted under Gerkin’s body, then did the only thing she could possibly think of. Her teeth closed around his wrist and she only had time to reflect that it was pure luck that he had wanted to hold her with his intact hand. She bit down with no restraint, with all her strength. Her tiny, blunt teeth embedded deeply in the Eok’s flesh and her tongue was rewarded with the taste of blood. The hand that held her hair opened, freeing her head. Hazel twisted some more, preparing to get to her feet and run. But she never got that far.
“You little whore!” Gerkin’s hand closed around her throat and his sick, pale blue eyes, devoid of almost all color, filled her field of vision. “You will die for that!”
Gerkin squeezed, stopping the flow of air to her lungs instantly. Then he squeezed some more. Hazel’s hands went up, her nails digging into Gerkin’s flesh, leaving raw, bloody traces behind, but it was no use. Gerkin was Eok, there was nothing she could do against him. Her strength faded fast, and soon, black invaded her vision with rapidly increasing white dots.
I’m going to die. I’m dead already.
Blackness filled her vision and Hazel felt her arms hit the ground.
Then a splash of wetness splattered over her face and Gerkin’s hand withdrew, along with the weight of his body. Hazel coughed and breathed, gulping in the air in large, greedy lungfuls.
A shrill noise sounded from her right, from where Gerkin’s body had dropped with a mighty thump. Her eyes fluttered open as she blinked furiously, trying to regain her vision as her body responded to the intake of oxygen.
A blur crossed her field of vision, Prussian blue and hissing. Feral. Dangerous. Hazel blinked the remnants of the fog away as she scrambled to her knees.
All around them, carnage was decimating the Ilarian guards. The Eok warriors had closed their ranks, turning their backs on each other, discarding their ionic guns in favor of their talons. The white roots attacked them relentlessly, piling on the ground around them as the Eoks slashed at them.
They were losing ground, long burns stretching over their skin where the roots had made contact. It wouldn’t be long before they were overwhelmed.
As she lay low on the rocks, unmoving for fear of attracting attention from either the roots or the Eoks, Hazel turned around to see Khal facing Gerkin.
His talons were fully extended, long and deadly, but his wrists were shackled together. Gerkin had rolled over, crouching low on the ground, his natural hand bracing his weight while his artificial one was lifted up. A savage grin split Gerkin’s face as he faced Khal, the hatred obvious in his gaze. His artificial hand lifted and the long, shiny fingers extended into wicked blades, buzzing with a small aura of energy.
Hazel’s blood curdled in her veins as she understood. Gerkin had installed ionic blades on his artificial hand as a replacement for the talons Khal had cut off.
Khal’s shoulders slumped slightly when his gaze went to Gerkin’s artificial hand, and he pulled, once, desperately on his shackles, but the chain between them wouldn’t give in. Khal wasn’t just at a disadvantage, he was doomed.
Gerkin lost no time. He leaped, his artificial hand outstretched, the deadly blades ready to slice into Khal’s flesh and bones like into water. Khal ducked, his body bending with a fluid grace, evading the brutal assault. The Eok warriors faced each other, slowly moving in a circle, Khal’s Prussian blue eyes glittering, alert and fierce, Gerkin’s sickly pale eyes revealing the even deeper sickness inside.
This was not a time for talking, and neither Eok uttered a word as Gerkin feinted, then lashed out at Khal. Khal jumped away, landing neatly, but he was forced to duck again as a white root caught sight of his movement and tried to catch him. He quickly sliced the root with his talons, but that had cost him a precious second and Gerkin was already on him.
A deafening roar of pain echoed over the killing field as Gerkin’s ionic blades sliced through Khal’s upper arm. Khal moved again with feline grace, putting more distance between himself and the deadly weapons. As he went, his talons sliced Gerkin, opening a long gash in the other Eok’s thigh. Gerkin growled in pain, but it wasn’t a deep wound, and when he faced Khal, a renewed savagery filled his pale eyes. He looked at the bleeding, oozing wound in Khal’s bicep with knowing satisfaction. Khal snarled and hissed defiantly, but Hazel could see in his face that he wasn’t going to make it. He was too handicapped with his wrists shackled together, and Gerkin’s artificial ionic talons were too much of an advantage.
Noxious fumes rose from the ground, making Hazel cough. As her eyes trailed down to see where the fumes were coming from, she saw a white root covered in shiny mucus and, underneath it, one of the discarded ionic guns.
The metal was corroding under the acid of the root, the gun being cut cleanly in half. She stared at it for a second that seemed to stretch into eternity.
That gun is made of Allurium.
A flash of hope came to Hazel and she bent, grabbing the root with both hands. Pain like nothing she had ever felt rose up her arm but she didn’t let go.
