"I'm sure you can afford the dry cleaning bill, your majesty," I taunt, dropping into a roll that brings me up behind Whiskey's massive frame. I use him as a human shield, which earns me a backward elbow that cracks a few ribs.
"Coward," Whiskey grunts, spinning with surprising agility. His meaty fist grazes my cheek as I duck, the wind from it ruffling my hair.
Across the dune, Plague and Nikolai are back at it. Metal flashes as knives clash, the sound singing through the open expanse.Neither gives an inch, their movements so fast they blur together in a lethal choreography.
I barely have time to appreciate their exchange before Whiskey barrels into me like a freight train, sending us both crashing into a sandy hill that's a hell of a lot more solid than it looks. The air is violently expelled from my lungs as I'm crushed between Whiskey's bulk and what I'm pretty sure is actually a rock covered in a thin layer of sand. The force of the impact sends my gun flying out of my hand, and I squeeze out from under him, scrambling to reach it.
"Oh, no you don't, you little shit," Whiskey growls, grabbing me by the back of the neck and slamming my head into the stone. My beautiful, perfectly straight nose breaks immediately.
Son of a bitch.
I ignore the blood streaming down my face and grope the ever-shifting sand until my fingers find the cool, reliable metal I'm searching for. "I'm six… foot… five," I grit out as the other alpha grabs a fistful of my hair, trying to pull me back.
I twist in his grasp as soon as my hand seizes the gun, but before I can fire off a shot, a blur of white hair whizzes past me and barrels into Whiskey.
"Nikolai?" I choke out, watching in shock as the two alphas roll down the side of the dune while Plague staggers to his feet, clutching what looks like a dislocated left arm. Courtesy of Nikolai, I assume.
"You don't. fucking. touch. him," Nikolai snarls in a demon's voice. When I look back, he's landed at the bottom of the dune on top of Whiskey, his fist reared back before it connects with the other alpha's face. And judging from the dazed look onWhiskey's face, and the matching rivulets of blood streaming down his nose, it's not for the first time. He throws another punch, then another, before Whiskey manages to grab Nikolai by the arm and throw him off.
"Didn't realize he was your boyfriend," Whiskey sneers, staggering slightly as he wipes the blood off his face with the back of his hand.
Nikolai is back on his feet, the two alphas facing off. Before I can fire a shot to assist Nikolai, something barrels into me from behind.
Fucking Plague.
Since when do I let myself get distracted in a fight?
I can hear the battle between Nikolai and Whiskey raging below as Plague drives me into a nearby tree. I spin around, taking aim at him with my gun as he springs back like a fucking cat. And he's got that damn knife in his good hand, the other one still hanging limply at his side. A knife I have no doubt could end up buried in my chest in the time it would take me to fire.
It's maddening.
Despite our best efforts, we're evenly matched. For every advantage gained, there's an immediate counter. For every opening exploited, a defense materializes. Nobody's gaining a fucking inch of ground.
Plague seems to realize the same thing. He switches tactics, voice taking on a different quality. "Why did you do this? Why go to all this trouble to kidnap me? You have to know you're not getting away with it."
"You'd be surprised the things I've gotten away with," I say, circling around him.
"Who hired you?" Plague presses, eyes narrowing. "Was it Maybrecht? My brother?"
The confusion on my face must seem too genuine to fake. Plague's certainty wavers.
"Don't play innocent," he snarls. "How much did they pay you to kidnap me?"
I laugh, bright and genuine. "Me? Innocent? That's a first."
"Then what could have possibly possessed you to betray us, if not for the money?" he demands. "Copious sums of it."
"Betrayal seems a bit extreme," I scoff, gesturing with my gun. "You came to me for information, I gave you the information, I came toyoufor information, your friends gave me a lead, and I acted on it. It's hardly my fault they thought I'd get killed in the process."
"The omega," he says, squinting. "This really is because ofher?"
"I thought that was obvious enough on the train," I say slowly, as if he's having trouble understanding, because I can tell questioning his intellect is the only thing that'll ruffle this bird's feathers. "She has a name, you know. Or are you a typical alpha who only sees omegas you're fucking as people?"
That does it. Plague strikes out with the blade, and presents an opening. I have to let him slice my shoulder open to exploit it, but I grab the front of his shirt and spin us both so his back is to the edge of the dune Whiskey and Nikolai just tumbled down—the one they're still fighting viciously at the bottom of, if the sounds are any indication.
Huh. Never really realized how much fighting alphas sound like they're fucking.
Plague staggers, his back to the dropoff, his back foot dangerously close to losing purchase on the shifting edge.
