snarls. One more. There should be one more…
Roxy started to spin. Too late. She went down hard,
feeling like she’d been hit in the back by a freight train.
Her skin sizzled. Talons dug through her jacket, tearing
the full length of her sleeve and reaching deep into skin
and muscle. Pain rocked her. She bucked, rolled,
brought the fire extinguisher up in front of her and
emptied the last of it in her attacker’s face.
Xaphan’s concubine screeched but held on, her
talons like grappling hooks. Gritting her teeth, Roxy
grabbed hold of the genie’s wrist, pressed hard on the
front, just the way Dagan had done to her earlier. She
couldn’t match his strength, so the move wasn’t
perfect. Still, it loosened the genie’s hold enough that
Roxy could claw at her fingers and pull each talon
free, like she was plucking thorns. It hurt like hell.
She said a silent prayer of gratitude that the
chemical foam had either distracted the creature or
weakened her enough that she hadn’t incinerated
Roxy’s arm. Or maybe that was a talent possessed only
by their leader.
Turning the canister on its side, she used it like a ram
to force the fire genie away from her. Then she surged
back to her feet, panting, her gaze scanning for imminent threat.
Dagan rounded on her, Naamah nowhere in sight,
his maimed wrist pressed against his belly, his eyes
narrowed dangerously. “Nice work.”
He didn’t sound sincere. Or grateful.
“You’re welcome,” Roxy snapped, watching his
EVE SILVER
