Page 91 of The Hunted
He clutched his rib. He winced when he sucked in a breath, not sure if that kick bruised or cracked a rib. Lucky for him, he was used to pain and was up on his feet, facing off with the Reaper.
“Why can’t you stay down?” The Reaper chucked the knife next to Sarah’s body.
Santino shrugged, the movement had him biting his lip to keep from grunting. “I guess I’m just stubborn like that. You can end this easily by taking off your mask. Getting rid of the knife was a mistake.” It also proved his point that the Reaper didn’t want to kill him. It was all too easy to accomplish that on accident with pointy objects.
The Reaper sighed. “If you must and are eager to get your ass handed to you, come on.” They made a come here motion with their hands. “I don’t have all day.”
Santino hadn’t noticed any weakness on the Reaper. There was nothing to exploit physically that would help him subdue the Reaper.
Brute strength it is then.
He closed the distance and swung, aiming for the Reaper’s jaw. They ducked under the swing, but Santino was ready for them this time. He used his other hand for an upper-cut and caught the Reaper in the chin. The grunt that left their lips sounded human and not computerized.
Santino smiled. “So you do have a regular voice. Let’s see if I can get you to scream for me.”
He swung again, missing the Reaper. They ducked under it, hitting Santino in the ribs. He didn’t have time to adjust because another hit was coming for his face.
The Reaper landed two hits back-to-back before Santino was able to duck under the swings and shove his shoulder into the Reaper’s chest. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he wasn’t winning this. It felt like the Reaper wasn’t even winded and yet, he was in pain every time he took a breath.
Work through the pain, mijo. What happens if one of your marks is stronger than you, huh?
He fought against her hold. She had him pinned down, and his mind couldn’t understand how she overpowered him. He was bigger than her.
“Size doesn’t make you strong. Knowing how to manipulate the body will either help you subdue your mark or survive in the event your mark tries to kill you instead of running away. The latter rarely happens, but you need to be prepared. Looks can be deceiving. Now break out of my hold, mijo, and make it hurt.”
“Are you done?” If it was possible for a computerized voice to sound bored, the Reaper had managed to figure it out. They inched closer to the door, their eyes tracking Santino’s movements. “Don’t follow me.”
Santino had backed up toward the counter, his palms raised. He tried to slow his breathing even more to ease the pain in his ribs. There was no way they weren’t cracked. It was going to be fun explaining what happened and keeping wind of it away from Amra. He was sure she’d try and make some connection between the killings and his banged-up ribs.
“Question, before you run away.” Santino gritted his teeth. Everything hurt. “Where do we know each other from? If it’s before I turned thirteen,” he leaned back against the countertop. He eyed his weapon of choice. He had to be quick, and hopefully his aim wasn’t off given the pain radiating through his body.
“I have no recollection of my time before then.” He tapped his head. “It’s all a void. No memories, no fragments. Nothing.” The Reaper’s eyes narrowed.Interesting.
“Are we related?” He couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice. There was some part of him who had hoped there was someone out there for him, regardless of what he told his guardian. He wondered who he left behind. If he left anyone behind at all.
“My guardian said when she found me, there was nothing and no one left. It was as if I was dumped—unwanted.”
“Your guardian is a liar,” the Reaper snapped. “You weren’t alone when she scooped you up out of the pool of blood and burned bodies we?—”
Santino held his breath, reaching for the coffee syrup bottles Sarah kept on hand. He launched the first two at the Reaper. He’d worry about the clean up later.
Once the second one was out of his hand he rushed them. The Reaper was quick, but Santino had anticipated the hit aiming for his jaw. He blocked it, catching the Reaper in the temple and then hitting them with an upper-cut. He wrapped his hands around the Reaper’s throat, pushing them into the wall.
“Gotcha,” Santino smiled. “Now, let’s see who’s behind the mask.”
The Reaper wheezed out a laugh. “It won’t make sense if you do this now.” The computerized voice sounded like it was on the phone with someone who had a bad connection.
“Nice try on the stall tactic. But I don’t care about that right—” Santino abruptly stopped talking. “Holy…fuck.” He hissed out a breath, dropping his hold on the Reaper. He pulled his arm to his chest, seeing his skin ripped open. The knee to the balls was expected, but he was still reeling from the fact the Reaper was wearing contacts.
He hit the ground, groaning. Between the pain in his ribs and now feeling like he was going to be sick, he knew when to stay down.
“Poor Santino Alvarez. Or do you want me to call you Saint Alonso? Good job on the name change, by the way. Very original.”
The Reaper loomed over Santino. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the tug of familiarity unlocking a door that had been kept hidden from him since this started.
How did I miss this?
“You want to know why, don’t you?” The Reaper didn’t wait for a response. “It’s hard to be prey when you’ve learned what it takes to become a predator. I didn’t have anyone looking out for me like they should have—except you. But even you left. After we swore to always stick together. It was us against the world.”
