Page 4

Chapter two

ATALIIA

Thefirstblowlandedacross my right cheek bone, which was fine—it wasn’t the first time it had happened, and I was used to the pain.

It was the second punch thatreallypissed me off.

A fist to the back of my head that, truthfully, I should have seen coming. I should have known it wouldn’t take long for a friend to run to his aid.

Not very sportsmanlike, I thought to myself as I rose from the tavern’s floor, dusting off my knees before wiping the blood from my split lip. But then again, I couldn’t blame them. These were men that had something to prove, so I didn’t expect much of a fair fight.

It was probably my fault anyhow. Ihadbeen beating the shit out of them for months now.

So, that one, I’d let them have.

But I would not give them another.

I crossed my arms, smirking as the two men circled me. They towered over the body I wore and still, they had no chance of winning this fight.

But they didn’t need to know that.

“You should have told me you needed help, I would have gone easier on you,” I quipped, stepping to the side as the fist of the man I picked the fight with flew past my right cheek. “If you could do me a small favor”—I leaned back a half inch, dodging another blow from his sparring partner—“and aim for my left side next time, I would appreciate it. I would prefer to have two black eyes, than one broken cheekbone.”

In unison, they lunged for me and I slid to the ground just before they made contact, rolling out from beneath them as they collided above me. A chuckle vibrated in my throat as the crowd that had gathered around us, started yelling bets at the barkeep. “You two don’t fight together often, do you?” I asked, tilting my head as my lips split into a grin.

I watched them limp away from each other, groaning as they turned back to face me.

“I am going to shut that whore mouth of yours for good,” the first one spat, pulling a small blade from his boot as a feral smile slid across the lips of his comrade.

I clicked my tongue.

“That is no way to talk to a lady. Didn’t your mother teach youanymanners?” I questioned, my voice sickly sweet as I slid my hands behind my back and pulled two karambits from their leather casings. I kept my arms crossed at the dip in the base of my spine, the silver hair that flowed from my head gently kissing the tops of my finger tips.

I liked this body.

It had become a harbinger of violence to the scum of Nethkar. Small and slender enough to be so unassuming, to seem so vulnerable and weak.

It was absolutely lethal.

Though, I must admit, it was the hair that had quickly become my favorite part of this skin. It really made a statement when the moon-drenched locks were stained crimson with the blood of males.

The men lunged again, this time with an added fury that burned behind their eyes. I danced around their blows with ease, my body moving in perfect synchronicity with the rhythm of their rage-fueled attacks.

It was almosttooeasy.

As the first man’s blade sliced through the air, I spun on my heel, bringing my karambit up to meet his wrist. The sharp edge slid through flesh and tendon like a hot knife through butter. His scream filled the tavern as the blade clattered to the floor and he clutched his now-mangled hand. Only a few more seconds and it would have been lying on the floorboards next to his knife. The second man slashed wildly at me with a knife I hadn’t seen him draw. I parried each strike with my blades, the clang of metal on metal ringing through the tavern. The gathered crowd cheered and jeered, their voices rising with each traded blow. I let the man push me back, feigning weakness, until my back was nearly against the wall.

He grinned, and the satisfaction dripping from him told me hereallythought he had me cornered. “Not so cocky now, are you, cunt?” Spittle flew from his mouth as he hissed the question and I did not hold back the gag that rolled up my throat at the heavy stench of his breath.

I smiled, a slow, feline curve of my lips, and laughed—a sound that rang out through the tavern like the peal of a bell. “I’m just getting started.”

I ducked under his next slash and surged forward, burying my knee in his groin. He doubled over with a grunt and I brought my elbow down hard on the back of his neck, dropping him tothe floor. I straightened and flipped my hair over my shoulder, glancing over at the first man who was cradling his ruined hand, his complexion turning a sickly grey.

“Do you know why I picked you?” I asked, taking a step toward them. “It’s men like you that create the need for women like me.” They glared up at me, their faces twisted with hatred as they rose to their feet.

“You talk too much,” the first one growled. “Let’s see if you’re still smirking after we rearrange that pretty little face of yours.”

“And I suppose”—I glanced at his hand, gesturing my blade toward it—“you plan to do that one-handed?”