Page 103 of Even Angels fall
I’m glad I didn’t see any gun on Michaël’s guards since we arrived because it would be a bloodbath now.
Well, itisa bloodbath. My fists and claws are making sure of it.
But I’m pretty sure it would be way worse.
It almost looks like they aren’t even trying, like they’re stalling.
If I didn’t see more uniformed guards piling on the ground than my own men, I would almost believe it, but as it is, it looks like we’re both gaining ground toward that locked door and getting the upper hand.
From the corner of my eyes, I see Angélique run from one side of the corridor in the direction of the door.
I punch the guy in front of me and feel his ribs break under my knuckles and immediately turn on my heels. I rake my claws from his left shoulder to his stomach and the short sword he was holding above his head in preparation of swinging at my back clatters to the ground.
I’ve been switching between my fists and my claws since this battle started, meeting each of my attackers with the same kind of weapon. Not the same kind of weapon exactly, but if they’re fighting bare hands, I’m doing the same. If they use weapons, I use my claws.
I saw the doubt in some of the guards’ eyes when Angélique spoke earlier, as if some part of them believed her—or wanted to believe her—and if not using lethal weapons is their way to keep showing that doubt, I’m not about to ruin that.
I’m probably the only one doing that, but I’ll stick with it until we’re done here.
Angélique throws her dagger at someone, then punches the man in front of her in the face before grabbing his shoulders and hitting him again with her knee. But she doesn’t stop there, no, she hit him again with her elbow behind his head and in a blur she jumps over him, using his bent back as a propulsion to get in the air and catching the dagger she threw seconds before while she’s upside-down and landing with her feet directly on the chest of the guard right behind. The momentum and the strength she uses as she lands on him propels him to the ground and she doesn’t even stop before she’s running again.
It lasts only a few seconds, but all I can do is stare.
She’s mesmerizing.
The way she moves looks like a well-curated dance, but it’s so well-oiled that you don’t see how lethal she is until it’s too late.
And from the look of it, it’s too late for the two guards right in front of the locked door. In one smooth movement, she punchesthe guy on her right in the throat and plunges her dagger into the left one’s throat.
Her hands land on the handle right after and the woman on her left thinks she can profit from her focus on the door to attack slightly off on her side so I grab one of the daggers that I strapped to my thigh and launch it to the woman’s face but I shouldn’t have worried because at the same time my dagger hits her right in the eye, Angélique’s left boot hit her square in the chest.
I didn’t see her move, and it’s obvious that the woman who is screaming in agony didn’t either.
I hold my breath as Angélique opens the door, but instead of a colony of bats being released, more guards pour through the door.
And then I hear a distinctive click. And then others. Right behind me.
70
Angélique
Guns. We’re surrounded by guns.
I hate them.
I hate them because they can make someone who can’t fight somewhat competent.
I also hate them because until recently, I thought I couldn’t shift, so they are one of the most awful weapons for me to deal with.
I also hate them because I’m fast, but there is no way I can outrun a gun pointing directly at my heart.
From the other side of the corridor, I can see that Elhyor came to the same conclusion, but his eyes are still searching for Brice and the rest of his men.
There’s some kind of pop and then a metal clang to the ground.
“Looking for your men?” Michaël asks in a taunting way.
He doesn’t look good.
