By the ash residue sprinkled over the scarred parquet floors, she’d already killed several. Plus, he was entranced by the erotic fluidity of her attack. Sensual, like silk caught in a breeze, except, just when he thought he could predict the pattern of her attack, the breeze became a tornado. He studied every parry and slice of her blades, the way she deflected and delivered her blows. They were slightly erratic, lacking precise control. The subtle tremor in her limbs, the satisfying breath he noted at the completion of each stab or blow. Not enjoyment, per se, but he sensed satisfaction. Pride.
He gave a mental snort. She lacked the cool detachment needed to keep one’s parts and life intact, yet the rhythm of her attach struck a familiar note within him. He’d seen the technique before. The memory flirted with his mind.
While he searched his brain for the answer, she killed one of the four. Next, she delivered a roundhouse kick and followed up with a stab to the second Darkling’s center mass.
Then she saw him and froze. That momentary lapse in her concentration allowed a Darkling to get too close to her unprotected back. One swipe of its claw and it would rip her spine from her body. He’d seen it happen. Wasn’t pretty. Then the demon would suck her soul from her body before it could ascend, if that was its destination. For the Darkling, the soul was a gourmet meal, the hollowed-out body, the dessert. In the end, nothing would be left to bury. Another missing person filed away in a police report.
With a flick of his wrist, Bane threw a blade directly at her, certain she would duck. The female didn’t disappoint. With a second to spare, she shifted to the left. His blade cleared a hair’s breadth to the right of her throat. He expected no less. One with her skills wouldn’t die from a blade she saw coming.
And then there was one Darkling.
Bane stepped from his corner. Together, they circled the creature, and each other.
“Who are you?” He demanded with a smile to put her at ease. Her eyes were hooded, yet their weight touched him. One of her blades remained on the writhing vaporous mass between them. The other, him. She didn’t trust him. He approved.
“Who are you…” she said in a husky, sultry voice that made his acidic blood simmer and his dormant cock take notice. From her attack stance and the tension in her body, he doubted seduction was her intention which made her even more alluring. “—UnHallowed?”
Only the Fallen (UnHallowed Series Prequel) Page 14