Magic Rises(135)

Curran stayed still. My throat constricted. Usually Curran moved through the fight, unstoppable, using all of his momentum and speed. He wasn’t moving now, which meant he was near his limit. He had to fight all of them, while Hugh only had to fight him, and now Hugh had more stamina left. He was slowly cutting Curran down, piece by piece. It was what I would’ve done.

Hugh struck, his sword shining with reflected flames. He moved forward with innate grace, fast and sure. Curran batted aside one strike. The second cut across his chest but fell too short. Curran lunged forward, but Hugh danced back.

When I fought him, he’d muscled me, because it was his best chance. This was pure skill.

Curran’s legs jerked. He snarled, shaking.

Hugh charged him, bringing the sword up, and moved on his toes, looking for an opening. Crusader’s strike. He would reverse the blade at the end. Dodge left, honey. Left.

Oh God.

The blade sliced through Curran’s side and Hugh withdrew in the same flawless move, but not before Curran’s claws scoured his arm. The Iron Dog behind Curran, a short woman, lunged at Curran, trying to slice across his back. The Beast Lord spun and smashed his fist into her. She flew across the tower, rolled, and clumsily rose to her feet.

“It’s over, Lennart,” Hugh called.

Curran didn’t answer.

The Iron Dogs resumed their circling, trying to get behind Curran.

Hugh raised his sword.

Not again. I’d just watched Aunt B die. I wouldn’t sit here and watch him die, too.

I limped back, turned, gritted my teeth, and ran. The edge of the roof rushed at me. I jumped.

The air whistled past me. I saw the roof below and both Hugh and Curran staring up, their faces shocked.

The blood armor peeled off my body, expanding into a bubble in midair. I bounced against the stones. The blood bubble burst and shattered into dry dust. I hit the stone hard and stayed there. I had survived. Now I had to keep surviving. My left arm was shot. My right leg was probably shot, too. My vision blurred.

“Hey, baby,” Hugh said. “Nice of you to drop in. Take her.”

My right arm was under me. I let go of Slayer and pulled the throwing knife out, hiding it with my body.

The Iron Dogs moved toward me. The shorter woman was at the front of the pack. I let her get close.

Hugh struck at Curran, swinging the sword in a wide arc. Curran moved forward. Hugh tossed the sword to his left hand, so fast it was as if he had two swords and one had disappeared, and slashed at Curran’s side. Curran lunged forward, but Hugh danced away. Damn it.

The short woman grabbed my hair. I stabbed her in the foot, sliced the bend of her knee, waited half a second for her to crash down, and slit her throat.

The two remaining Iron Dogs stopped. I crouched by the body, keeping my weight on my left knee.

“What the fuck,” Hugh snarled. “Look at her, she’s half-dead. She isn’t even on her last leg. She can’t fucking stand and she’s cutting you down like you’re children. Bring her to me alive. Now, or I’ll kill you myself.”

The two Iron Dogs advanced: a dark-skinned man, lean and hard, and a bigger, stockier blond in his early thirties.

Hugh struck forward, thrusting to the upper chest. Curran dodged left. Hugh flipped his sword and slashed at Curran’s neck. Curran thrust forward, fast, aiming for Hugh’s left side with his huge claws. Hugh clamped his arm and stabbed Curran in the stomach. The blade sank in almost to the hilt. Hugh let go and leaped out of range.

The blond was close enough. I shot up from my half-crouch. I couldn’t feel my leg, but it obeyed. I slashed across the blond’s chest, knocked aside his desperate thrust, and smashed my forehead into his face. He stumbled. I elbowed the other Iron Dog in the throat, stabbed him in the neck, spun about, and made a hole in the blond’s liver.

Curran was on his knees. His head sagged. Hugh was walking toward him.

I ran. My leg folded under me and I crashed.

“Wait your turn.” Hugh raised his sword.

Curran surged from his knees and grabbed Hugh, jerking him off his feet and pinning his arms to his body. Hugh smashed his head into Curran’s muzzle. Curran snarled, flipped Hugh into the air as if he weighed nothing, and slammed him over the stone parapet, back down. Hugh’s spine popped like a firecracker. He screamed. Curran heaved him up and hurled him into the flames.

Magic punched me, a bright blue explosion shooting into the night from the spot where Hugh plunged down. Curran looked down, rocked back on his feet, and fell.

I dragged myself to him and cradled his head in my arms.

The werelion shuddered and turned human. Gray eyes looked at me. “Hey there, ass kicker.”

“Hello, Your Furriness.”