“Look out!” Isobel called instinctively.
She didn’t know why she did what she did next. Some strange loyalty to Dark Armor because he’d ensured she wasn’t in the way, perhaps, or a sudden onset of insanity—but she stuck her foot out in front of the man with the knife.
He tripped.
Or almost did. He caught himself heavily on his other leg. Then his head snapped to look at her. A red haze around his eyes, similar to that of Dark Armor’s, illuminated his shiny helm. It made him appear like the Devil himself.
She was incredibly foolish.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked as he turned fully toward her. Curiosity truly would be the death of her; she could practically hear Henry’s lecturing tone ringing in her head.
But just as the silver-clad brute brought his weapon up to end her life, Dark Armor swung around, bringing his current opponent with him and shoving him into her assailant. The three of them crashed to the floor beside her, making the entire structure shake with theimpact.
Go, go, go, her hammering heart urged. Keeping her eyes on all three huge men, she side-stepped toward the exit. The space was considerably smaller than it had seemed, especially with all of them filling it, and she wanted to be as far away from them as possible.
She’d made it only four steps when Dark Armor’s first opponent gained his footing. The other remained motionless on the floor. She swallowed hard, looking for any rise of his chest, but found none.
He was dead.
And she had helped murder him.
Bile burned her throat as she stepped back, her eyes unable to leave the dead body.
Dark Armor closed in on his remaining adversary with his own weapon now drawn. He was much larger than his opponent, so it was easy to imagine he might have the upper hand. But as he swung, Silver Armor kicked him, sending him stumbling back. Isobeltriedto move out of the way, but—
She stepped on the hem of her gown and slipped. The fabric made an awful rending sound as she crashed into the interior’s metal siding, her temple and cheek colliding with a sharp edge.
Agony shot through her head and down her face. Stars exploded in her vision. She felt herself tilting against the siding, and barely caught herself before falling completely. It took her several excruciating seconds to regain her sight and what was left of her balance. She brushed shaking fingertips over the injury.
They came away covered in red.
That would be nearly impossible to explain to her brother.
If she made it home alive.
A cry drew her attention to the wrestling pair again. Dark Armor brought his blade down into a weak point in the other’s chest plate.
It sank to the hilt.
Silver Armor’s roar was deafening, even as it cut off with a gurgle.
But he wasn’t dead yet. As he reached blindly for something to the side, Isobel followed his grappling fingers to a table covered in and filled with flickering lights and knobs. He tapped a sequence, and the table made a noise like an ill-tuned piano.
Finally, a groan shook his chest. Then he crashed to his knees and slumped over.
Dead.
Dark Armor growled something and turned as the metal panel began to steam and pop, filling the space with a burning smell. It wasmelting.
“How the devil…” Isobel cursed. She wanted to move, to run, but her body didn’t obey any of the commands she gave it.
That was until Dark Armor pinned her with those glowing red lights where his eyes should be. Her survival instinct finally kicked in, and she backed away, only for him to approach her quicker. He grabbed her without hesitation.
She screeched as he picked her up and threw her over his very broad shoulder. As she struggled against him, she lifted her head. It wasn’t only the panels and tables melting, she realized with horror. The men he’d killed—as well as everything surrounding them—were melting, too.
Dark Armor’s long, sure strides took them out of the metal storage room quicker than she would have been able to move on her own. And by the time they were outside, halfway between the two wrecked vessels, there was very little left of the one they’d just escaped. The only indication that it had been there at all was the caustic aroma it’d leftbehind.
Things didn’t simply melt without flame. Things also didn’t fly. Nor did they fall out of the sky with violent, armored men on them, either.
