Page 7 of A Darkside Interlude

She was sorry she’d gotten caught.

The thought fanned the smoldering coals of his anger, even though his attention was captured by the slender column of her neck as she swallowed nervously.

Her skin was so smooth. Coated in a fine sheen of moisture, it glistened invitingly, beckoning him to touch, to taste.

“Better let this one off the hook, Iskar,” Torin said softly in Kordolian. The bastard was keeping his distance, watching their exchange with an amused half-smile. “She’s harmless.”

All around them, the relentless tide of people-traffic surged past, seemingly oblivious to the confrontation between thief and Kordolian.

She wriggled in his grasp, and then all of Kaiin’s nine hells broke loose.

She screamed at the top of her lungs.

Crazy female!

“Help!” she yelled in Universal. This was followed by a rapid-fire string of words in some unintelligible Earth language.

“Forget it, Iskar,” Torin warned.

For a human, she was surprisingly strong. She squirmed and flailed and cried out dramatically, managing to sound helpless and fearful and vulnerable, all at the same time.

Devious female. She was much more than she wanted people to believe, and now that she’d been caught red-handed, she was trying to create a diversion. No doubt she would use the commotion to try and escape.

As far as strategies went, it was a sound one. He had to contain her before things got out of hand.

“Keep quiet,” he snapped, but it was too late. A group of humans started to advance on them, emerging out of the endless sea of moving bodies.

“Let the lady go, asshole!” A tall man wearing a long crimson coat and leather trousers strode forward, a predatory smile crossing his tanned face. Atop his spiky blond hair sat a pair of orange-lensed goggles, and his bare torso was adorned with an odd array of holsters.

A weirdo. Earth seemed to be full of them.

“Why do ya hide yer face like that, stranger? Ya on the wanted list? There a bounty on yer head or somethin’?” Another human appeared before them. Intricate tattoos depicting various Earth beasts and plants covered his muscular arms. When he smiled, his metal-covered teeth glinted.

Iskar looked at Torin. His friend let out an almost imperceptible sigh. Behind his dark glasses, the First Division warrior would be rolling his eyes.

These humans were spoiling for a fight, and the way they looked at the female told Iskar their intentions weren’t entirely noble.

Perhaps they intended to take her for themselves.

For some reason, that pissed him off.

She moved, and agonizing pain shot through Iskar’s lower body. He swore, fighting the urge to double over.

The bitch had kneed him in the groin! Not all that hard—she was human, after all—but hard enough to stun him.

Like a slippery lamperk, she broke free of his grasp and ran.

The human with the tattoos came up beside him, a small blade appearing in his hand. He held it low, as if trying to hide it from Iskar as he went for an opening in the commander’s side.

Or at least he thought he’d found an opening. Iskar was a master of Rathurian blade-arts, and this creature was nothing more than a thug.

Ignoring the residual pain and shock of being kneed in his fucking jewels, Iskar lunged for the man, grabbing his blade-hand and twisting it so that the weapon clattered to the ground. At the same time, he swept his attacker’s feet out from under him with a vicious low kick.

The man crashed to the ground, roaring in outrage.

Off in the distance, Iskar caught sight of bright blue hair, bobbing and weaving through the crowd.

And his Kathari medal was gone.

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