Page 93 of Merciless

He sees the grenade in the next beat.

He’s shoving the guy with the wounded shoulder away then, grabbing hold of Runner and taking him with him as the two of them do the only thing they can do to avoid the blast, and burst on into the motel room Roxana is inside.

The guy pulls the pin.

“Get down!” I hear Cal shout at Roxana who’s just slightly visible for a few moments before Runner slams the door shut behind them.

The grenade is lobbed from behind the van to right over near the motel room.

Just before it explodes, the thunder of rushing footsteps fills the area and I shoot a look over my shoulder to see at least half a dozen more Gatekeepers hightailing it into the area, this time on foot. They’re using the grenade as a distraction to allow their backup passage without them being cut down by Wraith.

I brace myself behind the van as the explosion detonates, blowing out most of the windows of the ground floor motel rooms. It takes out the guy with the wounded shoulder, blowing him to hell. The guy Cal pulled Runner away from is blasted several feet across the area, smacking painfully into a concrete pillar, putting him out cold. It’s so close to the room Cal, Roxana, and Runner are in that it blows the door in, taking a chunk out of the wall too, the spackle on the exterior spraying everywhere.

The guys behind the van bolt forward then, heading for the motel room.

I position myself between the motel room and the incoming six more hostiles.

As soon as they take me in, I see the recognition from each of them.

“Priest is done playing nice. You’ll live, but it’ll be painful,” one of them tells me.

I make him my first target, taking aim and making a quick kill shot, pulling the trigger and shooting him dead-center through the chest. He doesn’t even get the chance to draw in a struggling breath before he’s sent to hell, dropping like a ragdoll on the ground.

Staring down the shock from the remaining five, I pull my blade without breaking position or shifting my aim with my gun off them. I narrow my eyes as I growl, “Keeping me alive is a big mistake.”

With a collective roar, they launch themselves at me.

I fire off a shot at the one closest, blowing a hole in his gut that has him dropping hard and clutching himself, gurgling and gasping. The next guy up, I pistol-whip across the side of the head. As the blow knocks him back unsteadily, I take advantage and thrust my booted foot into his solar plexus. Using the momentum off that, I spin into another kick that sweeps his legs out from under him and has him on the ground in a heap beside his wounded teammate.

“Bitch!” one of the three remaining roars, coming at me with a right hook.

I sidestep it and kick another soldier back as he runs at me.

As the one I sidestepped comes at me again, I let him get in a hit, his fist plowing into my gut. It doesn’t do much more damage that mere irritation, thanks in part to the padding of my tactical gear, but also because the dumbass can’t hit for shit. It works just as I strategized, bringing him in close to me. I take the in I created and fist my hand in his hoodie, jerking him down with a rough tug as I thrust my knee up to meet his face. A gurgled cry tears from him as the impact smashes his nose to smithereens. I slam both my fists into his back as he’s hunched over and he goes down, a sweep of my leg finishing the job.

My senses scream at me just a second before I manage to dodge a running attack from the guy I kicked back just moments ago.

Dodging that doesn’t do me much good in the next second, as the third guy tackles me across the waist. He runs me into the van behind us, my back jarring hard against the passenger side. The winding impact is enough for the two of them to finally gain a slight upper hand.

The one who ran me into the van wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing painfully, his thumb on the pulse point, making me choke.

With me seeming momentarily incapacitated, the other guy moves in.

He gets too cocky, way too fast, and I’m able to anticipate his move before he even makes it. As his foot leaves the ground to deliver a brutal blow, I sweep my leg at him, ripping his right out from under him while it’s in a vulnerable position. He lands hard on his ass and the shock of how easily I just put him down while I was partially restrained has the guy on me loosening his grip in an involuntary shocked reaction.

Damn, Matthew Priest is really watering down the combat training of his Gatekeepers. He thinks he doesn’t need to go that far any more, to invest that much in each soldier. For the last few years, just the threat of his Gatekeepers was enough to keep people in check. And that likely would have lasted for a long time. Until he poked the beast in me and Cal.

As I slam both my hands up and out, breaking the guy’s hold around my throat, a gunshot rings out, coming from the motel room Cal is holed up in, still in a standoff with the three remaining Gatekeepers. A roar I recognize as his reaches my ears next, making my whole body jolt, my senses scream at what it could mean.

And for the first time ever, I’m distracted in the midst of battle.

As I see the glint of a blade coming at me from the guy I just knocked back, it’s clear it’s going to cost me big.

That is until I’m abruptly slammed into from the side and pushed out of the line of fire.

I hit the van again with a bone-jarring thud, and look out to see none other than Wraith grasping the guy’s knife-wielding wrist. With a snarl, he jerks it sharply to the side, snapping it and making the guy shriek.

The knife drops, Wraith catches it with lightning-fast reflexes, then drives it into the hostile’s chest, stabbing deep at his heart. As the guy’s eyes widen, there’s absolutely no mercy in Wraith’s as he twists it, rips it out, then kicks the guy to the ground.

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