But then I remembered the hot blood pouring down onto me as Maverick died, the look of mad glee in Claw’s eyes as she’d torn out the man’s throat.
“The man can live,” I whispered back. It might prove useful to have Lord War as a hostage. “The woman dies.”
I felt Auwei’s sigh of resignation. She didn’t like this, didn’t approve, but she’d allow me to do what I felt was necessary.
Ahmaia’s eyes were hard, gazing at me for a long moment, but she eventually nodded. “I will take the man.”
We moved to the tent flap, and I veered into my spider to scuttle under the cloth. Ahmaia would know when to enter. She’d told me as much before we’d left.
I tried to ignore the sounds of passion from the bed and scampered along the ground to the far bed leg then up that to peer over the top.
The two were in the throes of passion, the large man kneeling as he drove himself into her. Claw’s legs were wide, pushed to the side so he could get in close. He loomed over her, one hand rough on a breast, the other on her throat. Claw gasped and writhed, and somehow still seemed thrilled by this violent sex.
Even though my spider form was small, I didn’t want to risk trying to get any closer than this. Despite their distraction I was sure I’d be noticeable against the pale sheets in the dim light.
So, I simply transformed where I was and stabbed at Claw with my short sword. She had no clue, eyes rolled back in blissful delirium, but War was quick to notice my transformation and lurched them both to one side, such that my blade only nicked Claw’s shoulder. War leapt off and away from Claw to land on the other side of the bed. I was just a little distracted by the immensity of his glistening erection, and it was that moment of hesitation which cost me a quick victory.
Claw was up quickly and spun to kick the sword from my hand with a hissed, “Bitch!” My sword went flying. Even as I tried to draw my other, she lunged, claws out. I had to use both hands to block her. One of my hands caught her wrist, the other only adjusted her clawed strike slightly such that instead of it tearing out my neck the claws raked down the side of my face, not deeply, but enough to sting and bleed.
Ahmaia was in the room, I noticed through my periphery, even though I hadn’t seen the tent flap move. War turned toward her as lengths of cloth reached out from her. But then he vanished… no, veered.
Claw tried to use her free hand the strike again, but as she reared back, I landed a quick stunning punch to her jaw. I then grasped her neck, squeezing, hoping she hadn’t caught enough breath yet and I’d be able to weaken her, but I should have recalled how she’d found such things exciting.
Her eyes opened wide with pleasure as she smiled and her claws raked over my arm. Her claws skidded off my bracer, but then she reached around the magical metal to the inside of my wrist and sank her claws into the small unprotected area there, tearing open the flesh. She kicked at the same time, but I blocked with my own raised leg. I wouldn’t be able to maintain my grip on her neck with my forearm torn open, so I simply threw her with all my strength to the ground, releasing her.
She hit hard, but rolled and sprang to her feet, facing off against me.
Ahmaia cried out in pain her hand going to her neck. That distracted me for the moment it took for Claw to sweep my legs out from under me.
I hit the ground hard, on my back.
She pounced.
I reacted on instinct, drawing my legs up and kicking her as she jumped upon me. She went flying, up and back, with a grunt. I spun to my feet as she landed — on her feet, like the cat she was — then she turned and tore a hole in the canvas wall of the tent, fleeing out into the night.
I followed, drawing my sword.
The pain of my arm and face had faded. MyHerospirit-gift had risen, even though I would be no hero tonight. Tonight, I was a spirit of vengeance.
Claw launched herself at me, and with a swipe of my sword, impassive and quick. I removed one of her hands.
She screeched a yowl of pain as the claws on her other hand skittered off my armor. She lashed out with her leg, another sweep, and I leapt just high enough to avoid it, landing close to her, my injured arm grasping her hair and yanking her head back.
“This is for Maverick,” I hissed and ran my sword across her throat. I lifted her head up and back to let the blood flow faster, freer, and the fight went out of her quickly.
I tossed her to the ground.
And only then became aware of the dozen or so men who’d come out from their tents, probably having heard Claw’s scream. They’d seen me slay her. I whipped my sword down to shed the thick blood upon it and slowly spun my gaze to look at each of them in turn.
I can’t imagine what I must have looked like in that moment, the look in my eyes, but every man around me cringed and fled.
Good.
I turned back to the tent… and Lord War’s fist hit me solidly in the gut.
But unlike the time he’d punched me out of the air, and I’d gone flying, this time I was only knocked back a step as my armor seemed to disperse the hit, rippling like water when a stone is dropped into a still pond.
Lord War was stunned. That had not been the reaction he’d expected.
