Hurt, then anger, flashed in his eyes, making him appear far more dangerous than a skirt-chasing player had any right to be. “Why do you care so mu—”
Something rammed into her from the side before he could finish his sentence. A rough pair of hands grabbed her arms and jerked them behind her, lifting her to her toes.
What the hell?
That was when she realized what she would’ve picked up on seconds earlier, had she not been so focused on Dagan and his insatiable wang.
They were under attack.
Lina twisted away from the hands trying to imprison her and whirled into a spin kick that tossed her attacker halfway across the crowded club. He took down a couple of other patrons as he flew back, like some sick, people-version of a bowling game. She stared only long enough to confirm she didn’t know the man. When she turned back to where Dagan had stood moments earlier, a small crowd of men surrounded him. And they were focused on pummeling him to the ground.
All of the patrons who stood nearby had eased away, staring at the men fighting.
What a roomful of gentlemen.
A shadow in the corner of her eye alerted her to the presence of another man. She turned just in time to avoid his fist. If it had been just the two of them, she could have used her calming ability to stop him, but that particular gift didn’t have the same effect in a crowd this size. Besides, she hadn’t used that gift in a long time…and fighting back was so much more fun, anyway.
Her knee shot up and caught him in the small of his back. He arched backward in pain, and she leaped into the air, striking her elbow into the left side of his neck. The man’s eyes rolled in his head as he crumpled to the ground.
“I told you to take her fast,” a familiar voice yelled. “She’s a good fighter.”
Shock reverberated through Lina’s bones like the heart-pumping bass of a drum. She sought out the source of the voice, and sure enough, he was one of the men trying to take Dagan down.
“Sam? What the fuck are you doing?”
A glimmer of something that looked like regret shone in the lorne demon’s eyes before they flicked to the side. His nervous tick tipped her off to the fact that the first man who’d attacked her, a burly wrestler type who had to be at least six and a half feet tall, had recovered. He stalked toward her, purposeful intent glinting in his eyes.
Lina ducked, but not quickly enough to avoid his meaty fist. It bashed into her face, and something crunched in response. Biting back a yell of pain, she regrouped just in time to sidestep another blow. Thank goodness for her speed, because her physical strength would be no match for a beast of his size. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a knife. This was when she felt most empowered—when she had a weapon in her hand, preferably a sharp one. Getty had trained her well.
Her attacker took one look at her weapon and laughed. “Nice toothpick.”
He lunged for her, but she swung to the side and spun around, cleaving the knife over the main artery on his wrist. He grunted and stared down, dumbstruck, at the blood gushing out in a steady spray. Clearly he hadn’t expected it to be so sharp, or for her aim to be so accurate.
She took advantage of his distraction and leaped onto his back. Grabbing a hank of hair with her free hand, she sliced through his neck. He collapsed to the floor with a gurgle, and Lina hopped off, landing light on her feet. Once upon a time, the idea of taking another man’s life would have been unthinkable. But that had been the old Lina, the one who’d had something to lose. Now she had no compunction about taking someone down. Especially someone who’d attacked her.
And even if she did feel the tiniest bit of guilt, well she could easily ignore that.
Lina whirled around to where Dagan stood fighting off his attackers. Two men lay on the ground at his feet, which left him three more to deal with, including that bastard Sam. She dug in her jacket for a second stiletto and raced for Sam.
Take that, jackass.
He saw her knife and leaped to the side a split second before it could sever the artery at his elbow joint.
Damn. Close, but no dice.
“What is wrong with you?” she gasped as she lunged for him again.
He blocked her thrust with a hit that jarred her wrist. Using his free hand, he delivered a punch to her stomach that sent her flying back a few feet.
“Sorry, babe,” he panted. “You’ve made some big enemies.”
What the hell? Sam and she weren’t the best of buds or anything, but they’d been through some shit together. She’d trusted him. Why would he turn on her now?
Sudden realization stopped her in her tracks.
“The dark fae we’re searching for. You work for him.”
The flash of guilt in Sam’s eyes was all the response she needed.