Page 66 of Bite The Terror That Feeds

I disheveled the bed and stuffed two pillows under the sheets to make it seem like Kingsnake and Larisa were sleeping there. Then I stood in the bathroom, the door cracked so I could peek into the bedchambers and through the windows.

It was quiet and uneventful, and after thirty minutes, I realized I’d made the wrong decision. They either had another agenda or the warning the scouts sent had been a false alarm.

I stepped out of the bathroom—and a dagger flew right at me.

I ducked just in time.

The blade was embedded in the wood of the doorframe—exactly where my face had been a second ago.

I dashed from the spot, knowing another one was about to nail me in the eye. I pulled out my sword and moved to the other room, catching a glimpse of the assassin who managed to hide behind one of the armchairs.

I ran forward and kicked the chair, and the assassin jumped on it when it tipped over—and then kicked me in the face.

I fell back and dropped my sword. The whole scene was chaos, and while I could see in the dark, the lack of light didn’t help.

The assassin jumped on me and attempted to stab their blade into my stomach, but the blade slipped, my armor designed to deflect the edges of swords.

I grabbed them by the neck and threw them off.

Their helmet flew off—and a curtain of brown hair cascaded down. Almond-shaped eyes looked at me, and their beauty was masked by their sheer rage. She launched herself at me and withdrew two blades, one in each hand, and she immediately unleashed a flurry of blows.

I barely gathered my bearings to block her attack. My sword blocked one of her blades and my vambrace blocked the other. I pushed her back, and she slammed into one of the posts of the four-poster bed.

Our battle was confined to these small bedchambers, so there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

She rolled off the bed, picked up the nightstand, and threw it at me.

I dodged out of the way, shocked she could lift it in the first place. When I righted myself, another blade was thrown at my head. I ducked out of the way. “How many of those do you have?”

“Let’s count.” She threw another.

I rolled out of the way, taking cover behind the bed.

She moved back to the bed then tried to jab her blade into my neck below the armor.

I grabbed her by the arm and threw her across the room. She hit the bricks of the fireplace then dropped. “You know you’re outmatched—”

“Am I?” Another dagger left her hand so quickly, I didn’t see it happen.

I deflected it with my blade.

She was on her feet again, coming at me with both blades again.

We became locked in a battle, neither one of us able to get the upper hand. She tried to back me into the bedpost, and I tried to push her back into the bricks of the fireplace. She never dropped her concentration, but her eyes locked on mine from time to time, shining with a beacon of confidence. Perspiration formed on her forehead, but she never looked winded. With catlike eyes and plump lips, she looked like a woman a king would bed, not an assassin dispatched to murder one.

I caught her sword in my vambrace and flung it away, and I held off her other sword with mine. We were locked together, both too tired to push the other down. “Is it just me or does it feel like we’re fucking?”

She slammed her boot into my stomach and sent me flying back. “Maybe for you. When I fuck, it lasts a lot longer than this.”

I was in the middle of battle, but a grin moved across my face. “Damn, baby. You’re fire.” I was on my feet again with the hilt of the sword in my palm. “It would be even briefer if I weren’t trying to take you alive.”

Her catlike eyes turned sinister. “I’m not your baby. I’m your killer.”

“Yeah?” I stepped forward and spun the sword around my wrist. “Then finish the job.”

She stilled, her shortsword in one hand, her breaths elevated. She stood there with straight posture, dressed in pearl-white armor, her perfect body on display in the formfitting material. I imagined it was just as perfect when she wore nothing at all.

“Come on, baby. Lay it on me.”