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The Demon King's Destiny

Page 26

by C. A. Worley


  I tossed the pill over my shoulder then put the dagger back in my boot. Dude’s bright grey eyes flared, reminding me of light catching silver. His stance relaxed.

  Fool. He knew my mission was to take his heart.

  In a flash, I had both katanas unsheathed and gripped lightly in each hand. A part of me liked being in the Shadeland. I was stronger here. Too bad I didn’t have long to enjoy the feeling.

  I distributed my weight onto the balls of my feet and bounced, finding my footing and shifting into a fighting stance. I always felt ridiculous bouncing around like a crackhead in need of a fix, but it really did help me move with speed.

  “Let’s dance, dickhead,” I taunted, hoping I could get under his skin. The Shadow King did not like being called names. What else could I do? Those were the breaks.

  I swear his mouth twitched right before he leapt towards me. It pissed me off enough that I did something stupid. I ignored my training and allowed emotion to direct me. I was breaking Gregor’s cardinal rule numero uno.

  Those who fought with emotion got sloppy. I knew this. I just couldn’t stop my reaction to the Neanderthal coming at me. He’d broken something in me. If I let go of the anger, I’d probably curl up in a ball at his feet.

  No way, Jose. He’d take my life, but I would make him earn it.

  Our swords clashed as I met him mid-flight. The collision jarred my body to the point I had to concentrate on not dropping my katanas.

  Our bodies passed in the air, moving in slow motion as my mind processed everything in my field of vision As our steels slid against one another, sparks caught. My eyes flicked to the dancing embers. Another mistake.

  It was only a fraction of a second, but it was enough for me to miss the large hand as it reached across the blades. The placid push on my chest was just enough to knock me off-kilter. He moved so fast I wouldn’t have known what happened if I hadn’t felt the pads of his fingers on my skin.

  This male could have punched me. He could have dragged another blade across my throat. It’s what I would have done if I was him. It’s what I should have done to him. Unfortunately, my reach wasn’t long enough.

  The heat from his touch brushed against my soul. I gasped, furious it wasn’t meant to harm. This would be so much easier if he had just ripped it out and ordered me on my knees.

  With no time to further ponder his gentle maneuver, I crashed hard and rolled swiftly to my feet. I shook my head, still reeling from the initial impact of our weapons.

  I’d expected him to fight dirty, to reach for some hidden insidious power to cripple me, but he did not. I doubted it was necessary. My wild provocations were child’s play to him. Weak as I was, I was now clearly outclassed.

  I was for sure going to get killed today, but I hoped my father would get word I hadn’t taken that damned pill like the coward he believed me to be.

  It was with this thought, when Big Guy’s torso was close enough for me reach, I realized my gravest error yet. As his dark head lowered closer to mine, my soul reached for his.

  This was bad. This was so very bad.

 

 

 


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