Page 20 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

Josie’s breath sawed from her chest as she scanned the beach again.

Aleissande was a few paces away, locked in a dance of steel against steel.

There was blood running down the general’s face and matted in her blond plaited bun, but she did not waver as she met the rebel strike for strike.

Her brow furrowed, a telltale sign that she was reaching inward for her Sensainos affinity, and Josie watched as she extended a hand and sent the rebel crumbling to the ground.

Aleissande let out a hard breath as she drove her sword into the rebel’s chest, and Josie’s heart lurched as another rebel came for Aleissande’s back.

Josie grabbed the pommel of her sword with both hands as she lifted it over her head and threw it as hard as she could. The rebel screamed as the blade embedded itself in his back just as Aleissande struck the other attacker down.

Aleissande whirled, wide-eyed and chest heaving as she glanced from the dead rebel to Josie.

“I told you to disappear !” she snarled as Josie retrieved her blood-slick sword.

“I just saved your life,” Josie shot back, her adrenaline shortening the wick to her temper. “Show some grat—” Her words were cut off by Aleissande’s tight grip on her arms as she dragged Josie closer.

“Open your eyes, Josephine,” she hissed as she shook her. “This is a coup. You are the princess of this kingdom . Run. ” Josie wrestled against Aleissande’s grip, but the general held firm as something pleading entered her gaze. “I am giving you a direct order.”

Josie frantically scanned the beach again. She could not leave her companions. She could not leave Cole .

“I will find him,” Aleissande insisted, ducking her head to meet Josie’s gaze. “I swear on my life I will not abandon your friend. He is one of us. I will not leave him behind. But you have to go. Now. ”

It went against every instinct Josie had. But there was desperation in Aleissande’s usually steady gaze, and it sharpened her voice until it was tight and uneven in a way she’d heard only once before.

Run, Aidon.

Aleissande released her, and Josie knew she would hate herself for it, but for once in her life, she obeyed.

She took off down the beach, weaving in and out of the fight. Chaos reigned around her, and it was nearly enough to keep from drawing attention to her retreat.

But then shouts were arising, and an arrow was soaring past her ear, close enough that she swore it nicked her lobe, and a rebel was turning and locking eyes with her, his own going wide as he yelled, “The princess!”

Josie put on a burst of speed, her boots sliding over the loose sand that gave way to the cobbles of the main thoroughfare.

She raced past abandoned carts as she veered left, away from the palace.

She could hear the rebels behind her, and a quick glance over her shoulder showed three in pursuit.

A stream of Incend fire caught the shoulder of one, sending her careening to the ground with a scream.

Josie didn’t dare risk looking for who had aided her escape.

She grabbed the basket of fruit from the nearest cart and flung it into the street behind her as she ran.

A few paces ahead, a merchant was crouched behind his cart.

He stood as he saw Josie racing toward him and gave a subtle dip of his chin.

Then he upended his cart, sending jewelry and collectibles flying into the street behind her, his cart rolling with it and blocking the rebel’s path.

Josie darted into a side street, the furious shouts of the two Bellare members echoing across the cobbles. They were followed by a higher yelp—a pained sound—and Josie ground her teeth as she fought the urge to turn back and fight.

There was nothing she could do now. The merchant was likely dead.

She veered left, down one of the narrow alleys, then right, then left again, her muscle memory of running through Rinnia with Aidon as children proving more useful than any training ever could.

She risked a glance over her shoulder as she darted down another side street, cursing as she saw a Bellare member closing in.

Only one remained, and yet…

It was Aidon who had been built for speed; Josie’s prowess was always force. She’d learned it long ago, racing through these very streets—had lost more copper than she cared to admit on ill-placed bets with her brother, and Clyde, and Lucas.

She’d never won a single one.

The rebel slammed into her, his arms wrapping around her torso as he sent them careening to the ground. Josie twisted, her hands clawing for his face as she tried to escape his grasp.

The man laughed as he clamored on top of her, his knees settling on either side of her waist as he pinned her to the ground. His hands found her neck, fingers digging into her flesh as Josie thrashed beneath his grip.

She dug her nails into the thin skin of his wrists, but it did not matter, it did not matter , because he was bigger, and stronger, and Josie was…

A princess. Not a warrior.

It was her uncle’s voice in her head, that dry, dull tone Dominic had loved to wield against her and her dreams, and it had a fresh wave of fury cascading over Josie as she tried to suck in a breath against the rebel’s tightening grip.

She would be damned if that monster had the last word. She would not let Dominic’s memory steal her final moments with his poison and doubt.

The rebel screamed as Josie’s nails ripped into his skin, but he held firm, his grip crushing her windpipe as she tried—she tried —to free herself.

Not like this. She would not die like this. Not here, not now, not when—

The rebel’s grip loosened as he lurched forward with a choked gasp. Blood splattered onto Josie’s face, and she froze for a moment in surprise, her own reflected in the man’s wide eyes. And then he slumped sideways, his heavy weight sliding off her as he fell to the ground—dead.

Josie sucked in a lungful of air, blinking hard against the spots in her vision. There was a knife sticking out of the man’s skull, and behind him, staring down at his prone form, was—

“Natali,” Josie rasped.

She shoved herself up, her hand massaging her throat as she stared at the Saj.

They’d traded their usual flowing pants and loose shirt for sturdy brown britches and a sleeveless vest fitted with another knife.

Their silver hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of their neck, their brow furrowed as they strode forward and retrieved their blade.

“There’s no time to rest. There are more coming,” they urged. Their grip was tight as they heaved Josie to her feet. “Come. Follow me.”

Josie did so without question, even as her aching lungs screamed in protest at her exertion. The Saj kept a quick pace, weaving through backstreets and alleyways, their hand tight around Josie’s wrist lest she fall behind.

“Where are you taking me?” Josie croaked.

Their head swung left and right as they checked to ensure the cross street was clear before glancing back at Josie.

“Somewhere they won’t think to look for you.”