Page 45 of Queen of Ashes and Scars
“Yes. I’m going to take a quick shower and look for Leo.”
The hot water feels amazing, the remnants of our pleasure quickly washed off my body, and I’m left feeling pleasantly clean and satisfied in spite of the growing hunger in my belly.
After patting off the water from my skin and hair, I wrap a robe around my body and return to my men. I open the bathroom door, and in a flash, everything blurs, like the steam from the shower is ten times thicker outside the room. The stench of acid and death assaults my nostrils, and I quickly stop breathing, covering my mouth out of instinct.
Someone’s here.
Sebastian rolls off the bed, gagging as the smoke starts to clear. The effect of the poisonous vapors turned the veins of his neck and face almost purple, and my chest cramps painfully. On the other side of the bed, the head of a long silver-headed spear buries deep inside Alec’s chest.
No. No no no…
Agonizing seconds pass, but the weapon must not have reached his heart, because he doesn’t dissolve in a cloud of smoke. Doesn’t mean he’ll live, but it’s something.
A sliver of hope.
The assassin’s silhouette stalks in the night like a shadow weaving through fog. The vampire possesses the lethal, ninja-like shape of a highly-trained Zhaos soldier. He’s wearing black from head to toe, his smaller stature and lightning speed quickening my breath as he slides across the ceramic floor without a sound, his red eyes searching for his mark. I have merely seconds before he recognizes his mistake.
A switch inside me flips.
When Jasper came for me at the hangar, I was too weak to fight. Now, all my newborn vampire muscles ache for violence. I’m not trained, but I’ll be damned if I let my men die without raising hell.
Last time, they came in numbers, but this was meant to be a focused one-man operation. If I’d been in that bed next to Sebastian—like I was believed to be—I’d be dead.
The white fog billowing through the air stills as we lock eyes, the centuries of animosity between our clans boiling beneath the surface. A hint of smugness shines through his eyes, his mouth curled in a victorious smile.
Feral as a wounded tiger, I hurl myself at him.
In a blur of speed and power, our bodies collide with a force that could shatter bones, and we both roll to the ground. The attack takes my opponent by surprise, but I realize my own impatience actually put me in jeopardy. In a second, the shadow assassin will reach for one of the weapons strapped to his chest while I’m fighting with my bare hands in a towel…
I spring to my feet and manage to scratch his left eye, a wave of blood pouring out of the wound. Beginner’s luck only means that a neophyte will sometimes make an unexpected, different, dumb or even desperate, move. If I’m to die today at the hands of a Zhaos, it won’t be running away from this fight.
The assassin quickly pulls out a dagger from his chest rig and draws a sharp circle with his arm, aiming right for my throat. I sidestep, moving quicker than I ever thought possible, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
Wait…
Somehow, I saw my opponent’s next attack take shape in his headbeforehe even moved, and managed to avoid it.
His gloved grip tightens on the hilt of the dagger, and he strikes at my right temple, my brain anticipating his next moves like it knows exactly how and when he’s going to react, and I squeeze out of his way again, the sharp blade slicing up the air next to my right ear.
The man’s brows pull together, and he switches his dagger to the other hand, obviously frustrated as he tries to stab me again. My tightly-wound body reacts out of instinct, his mind giving away his strategy and allowing me to survive.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The blade comes for me time and time again, its owner growing more and more resentful for his failure until we’re both gasping for breath.
The whole dance must not have lasted more than a minute, but a minute was enough for Sebastian and Alec to somewhat recuperate from the poison, and my husband roars as he joins in the fight in a blur of limbs, his first instinct to ram into our opponent mirroring my earlier attempt.
Alec sneaks in on the right and kicks the Zhaos off balance. His quick, surgical hit carries the weight of a thousand grudges, the gash in his shoulder oozing blood.
The assassin hits the ground with a loud thud, falling over Sebastian. The red-head vampire wraps himself around our attacker and jabs a knife at his neck.
“Wait! Don’t dust him yet.” Alec puts his knee over the man’s chest to hold him down and tears his sleeve open. A tired groan escapes him as he discards the limp hand back to the ground. “That’s not a Zhaos assassin. It’s only meant to look like one.”
Sebastian beheads him nonetheless. “Zhaos or not, he was good.”
