Page 42 of The Darkest Warrior


  Possible slogan for Knox: Him fatale.

  Or maybe: Ready to lay, eager to slay.

  "Don't understand...what's happening," Nola said between huffing breaths.

  "Safe place first, answers second," Vale said. "Tell me you're feeling okay."

  "Hurting, tired, cold. Heartbeat...warped."

  Fury sizzled and crackled, an undeniable fire, and yet it failed to heat her up. Her teeth chattered, and she shivered so violently she nearly tripped. After everything Nola had endured already, she deserved rest and warmth, not more danger.

  A hard weight collided with Vale, two intractable bands wrapping around her waist. Gasping, she careened forward, and lost her grip on Nola. Warm breath on her nape. Face, about to smack into the ice. Then, at the last second, her captor switched their positions, absorbing the bulk of impact himself.

  He grunted, the taste of honeyed whiskey suddenly coating her tongue. Knox!

  Impact jarred her, air exploding from her burning lungs, bones almost shattering. Her brain rattled against her skull, opening a floodgate, allowing dizziness to rush in.

  She groaned as Knox hauled her up, tossed her over his shoulder and took off in a mad sprint.

  Those intractable arms held her in a vise-grip, squeezing tight enough to bruise as she struggled. "Let me go." Where was Nola? "Do you hear me? Let me go!"

  "Vale!" her sister shouted. Then, in a softer voice, she cried, "W-what are you d-doing? S-stop, please."

  "Be quiet, girl. You'll give our position away." Zion's voice boomed through the mountains--giving their position away.

  He had Nola. Must have recovered from his disembowelment.

  Desperate times, desperate measures. Vale kicked and wiggled with no regard for her own wellbeing, and finally managed to throw herself from Knox's shoulder. Landing hurt. Landing hurt bad. Ignoring the avalanche of pain, she crawled to her feet and darted in the opposite direction.

  When she spotted Nola, trapped within Zion's arms as he raced away, she quickened her pace, giving chase.

  "Stop! Please! You don't understand. She's sick. She needs her medicine."

  A few years ago, Nola's fibromyalgia had flared. When she'd become too weak to crawl out of bed, her doctor prescribed opioid pain pills. Those little white pills had been a blessing and a curse, offering her a somewhat normal life while also making her dependent on each new dose. She could go twelve hours before withdrawal put a terrible strain on her fragile heart and body, and she began to pray for death. Vale couldn't, wouldn't let her go through that kind of agony again.

  "Come get Knox," she called. "I'll help you kill him, I swear."

  The guy never even slowed. Argh! Why abscond with Nola now? Unless he wanted a woman for a very specific reason...?

  "No!" Vale yelled, the ice invading her soul. "Please, take me instead."

  Nola flailed, frozen tears glistened on her cheeks. Though she reached for Vale over his shoulder, the merciless Zion continued on.

  "I'm coming...for you." Vale struggled to breathe, still running, the frigid air stinging her nostrils and freezing her lungs. "Right behind...won't let him--umph!"

  A hard weight slammed into her from behind. Knox, once again. This time, he rotated faster, cursing her when they landed. He flipped her over, pinning her with his strength, and scowled with enough malevolence to send an entire army fleeing.

  Their gazes met, held, something electric arching between them. She ceased all movement. He ceased all movement. For a moment, the clock seemed to stop, the rest of the world fading from her awareness. All she saw? His eyes. They weren't just bluer than any ocean, they were deeper, too. A woman could cannonball into those babies--and drown.

  Knox's warmth enveloped her. Here, now, she wasn't chilled to the bone. No, she was dangerously close to overheating, beads of sweat popping up on her brow.

  Every spot they made contact, she prickled. Her breasts began to ache, and the apex of her thighs throbbed. Her mind didn't like this man, but her body loved him. Her body needed him. No, no. Ridiculous! Her wrongly wired senses had confused dismay with desire, that was all.

  His scowled grew darker. "Stop running from me, female. You're only making things worse for yourself."

  "Wrong. You're making things worse for me," she snapped, trying to ignore the fresh infusion of honeyed whiskey in her mouth...and failing. Mmm. So good. Would he taste just as good? Or better?

  Wake up call! She wanted to kiss him, a murderer?

  The world-fade reversed, everything coming back into focus. She saw darkness, light. Chaos. Felt battered by frigid wind. Remembered the brawl, the severed body parts. The chase. Her sister--Vale sucked in a breath.

  Save Nola, whatever the cost.

  She punched Knox once, twice. Dang it, he had a face like concrete and she did very little damage--to him. As her knuckles cracked and swelled, she performed the wiggle that had gotten her free before...success!

  She popped to her feet and, glaring, said, "I'm going after my sister. Help me, or get out of the way."

  "Going to try to trade my life for hers again?"

  "Can you not take care of yourself, big guy? Boo hoo, poor you," she snapped. "I love her. I don't even like you."

  One step around him, that was as far as she got. He grabbed her ankle, sweeping her off her feet. Literally! He wasn't there to absorb the worst of impact, and she cut her tongue on her teeth, honeyed whiskey suddenly eclipsed by a copper tang.

  He moved as fast as lightning, looming over her. Black lines branched from Knox's eyes, quickly shadowing both sockets, the transformation like something out of a horror movie. "Zion will protect her. Probably."

  Probably? Not good enough. "He's a killer, just like you." The second Vale's head stopped spinning, she jerked up her knee, hoping to shove Knox's testicles into his throat.

  A dark god lovingly stroked by the glow of the northern lights, he caught her ankle and held on tight. "Attack my manhood a third time, female, and I'll assume you work with vikings." His voice smoldered with barely suppressed rage, and yet, it was as cold and hard as steel. "I want to torture vikings."

  He couldn't mean the ancient warriors...could he? Of course not. Judging by his odd accent, English wasn't his first language. He'd meant something else entirely, surely.

  Still, tendrils of fear slipped down her spine. "Stop calling me female." She wrenched free, vaulted up. "And stop stopping me! My sister needs her medicine, okay, which means I need to rescue her."

  "I was able to observe Zion for five months as we fought in this All War. She'll be safe with him."

  All War?

  "I've never seen him harm a female," Knox continued. "Even an other-realm assassin with every intention of killing him."

  Other-realm? "How can I get this through your thick skull? Nola. Needs. Her. Medicine." Unwilling to wait for his response, she faked left, darted right.

  Knox caught her; of course he caught her. In a blink, he had her draped over his shoulder, clearly his favorite position, and carted her off.

  She fought him until the frigid air turned her blood to sludge and zapped her strength. Soon, she couldn't move, could only shiver.

  "So cold..." Too cold. "Please...follow...Zion."

  "I'm taking you to safety. You're welcome."

  She gnashed her teeth. Pretend to be reasonable. "Win my sister...from Zion...safety...wealthy family pay...millions." Translation: Vale would write him a hot check. "Will do anything...you want."

  "You'll do anything I want, anyway."

  Okay, she wasn't getting anywhere, had to think this through. If Zion truly had a problem hurting women--a sentiment Knox didn't share--Nola was better off with him. Problem was, Vale didn't trust Knox. He was a murderer, so lying wasn't too far outside his wheelhouse.

  "Don't care about...your realms or All War," she said. "Only care about...sister."

  Knox thought for a moment, then nodded as if he'd just made a monumental decision. "I have questions about Terra, you have ans
wers. Provide me with willing and swift information. In exchange, I'll let you go--maybe--and you can hunt for your sister on your own."

  Maybe? Maybe wasn't good enough. For now, though, she had to continue playing along. Obviously, she didn't have the skills to ditch him. Also, Nola had eleven hours before she became desperate for another dose of her pills.

  Plenty of time for Vale to win Knox over...let's hope.

  In the meantime, if an opportunity presented itself, she would mount an escape.

  "All right...yes," she said. "Will tell you anything...you want to know about, um, Terra. Yep. Good ole Terra." In sci-fi, aliens often referred to Earth as Terra. But what was it to Knox? "My favorite..." Person? Place? Thing?

  "Realm."

  "Yes! Of course." No need to exaggerate her next full-body shiver. She nearly knocked him off his feet. "Too cold to think."

  "Be careful, female." His tone held a low, seductive menace more potent than--Whoa! Seductive menace? Who am I? Menace was never sexy. "If you lie to me, or betray me in any way, you will become my enemy. My enemies die painfully, and always."

  Shadow and Ice by New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter, goes on sale in November 2018.

  Copyright (c) 2018 by Gena Showalter

  ISBN-13: 9781488029325

  The Darkest Warrior

  Copyright (c) 2018 by Gena Showalter All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  (r) and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with (r) are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

 


 

  Gena Showalter, The Darkest Warrior

  (Series: Lords of the Underworld # 14)

 

 


 

 
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