Page 3 of Wings of Ash & Flame
As she turned to reclaim her coat, invisible hands pressed against her ribs, slowing her movements.
She’d foolishly forgotten about the guard’s magic.
“Humans are pathetic,” the guard gritted out, still lying on the ground. His fingers were splayed toward her, eyes gleaming with malice.
The pressure around her ribs increased. Alaire’s limbs felt heavy, as if she were pushing through water. Her nails dug into the hilt of the dagger.
Pain erupted from her scalp as she was roughly yanked by her hair against someone solid, someoneelse. Their breath stankof ale and onions. Her dagger clattered to the ground. A familiar buckle dug into her back—a second guard.
Her heart sank.
“What do we have here?” the newcomer drawled.
“Nothing in particular. Though if I had to say, that one”—Alaire pointed to the guard still lying on the ground—“rolling in his urine is swift justice.”
The guard, still holding her tightly by her hair, landed a hard blow to the back of her skull. Stars exploded across her vision. It was always her mouth that got her into trouble, even if it was the truth.
“A human who’s forgotten their place,” he said, licking the sweat that had gathered at her nape. “I’d be happy to give you a reminder—especially with that big mouth of yours.”
She felt the familiar sting of a blade digging into her neck.
Alaire’s knees threatened to buckle, but she straightened, refusing to show weakness even as fear clawed at her insides.
“Has anyone ever told you that brushing your teeth after you eat is common courtesy? Your breath could kill a person where they stand.”
He growled, tugging her hair harder as he dug the blade deeper into her skin.
“Has anyone ever told you that those with sharp tongues often find them cut out? Shall we see?” he taunted, dragging the blade across her skin, drawing a thin line of blood.
“My tongue is the least of your worries.”
She felt his weight shift from one foot to the other. Both his hands were full—a plan formed in her mind.
Alaire stomped on the guard’s foot, twisting away from his blade as her lungs screamed for air. Blood trickled down her neck where the edge had caught her skin. She pivoted, using the momentum to land a blow to his solar plexus.
She stumbled away, scooping up her weapon.
The guard charged toward her, his blade a blur as he sliced through her shirt. With him no longer pressed against her back, Alaire could see he was wielding a sword. She’d have to get much closer to inflict any real damage.
The guard matched her pace, forcing her onto the defensive. Breaking apart, they circled one another, each trying to wait the other out. But time was not something Alaire had tonight.
I need to end this now.
Alaire faked a move to the left and lunged right, aiming for his eye. Anticipating her move, he swept out his leg, attempting to trip her. She jumped back onto the balls of her feet, her dagger slicing the vulnerable skin of his underarm while he was still crouched low.
Suddenly, wind whipped around the alley with unnatural force, lifting her off her feet and slamming her into the wall. Her dagger flew down the alley, too far to reach.
Pain reverberated across her back and side. Something cracked—a rib, maybe two. Still, she dug her fingers into the wall behind her, refusing to end this on her knees.
“You made a mistake tonight,” the first guard said, standing at his full height as he slowly approached. His nose flared. “One you won’t live to repeat.”
He snickered at her injured body before punching her jaw. She crumpled against the wall again. He stood over her, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“To repay the favor.”
An agonizing burn erupted in her side.
Her eyes darted to the source of her pain—sticky, thick blood coated her fingers.
