Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one with ninja moves. Before I knew what was happening, Brodie broke my hold, then did a back handspring onto his feet. He glared at me for a moment, chest heaving, before a ridiculous grin that sent my stomach flip-flopping spread over his face.
“Very good, lass,” he said, admiration in his voice. “Seems ye haven’t lost all yer training after all.” His eyes softened a little. “I dinnae want to fight ye, ye know.”
“I dinnae blame ye,” I sang back, mocking his Scottish accent. Those gorgeous eyes narrowed, and I wondered if maybe I was being an idiot by provoking him. He outweighed me by a good seventy-five pounds and had at least a foot and a half on me. The bastard could probably snap my neck without breaking a sweat.
“Do ye know why I dinnae want to fight ye, lass?” he asked, starting toward me. My hackles rose at his confident swagger. It was obvious he thought this was over.
“No, and I don’t care.” I waited until he was close, then ducked and swung my elbow into his ribs. He blocked the blow easily, and then we were fighting, fists and legs flying as we each tried to penetrate the other’s defenses. I ducked and dodged, spun and kick, my eyes constantly searching for a weak spot. It was as if someone else had taken over my body, someone with far more speed and agility. Someone who had experience fighting the superhuman.
There, I thought, watching his footwork. Nearly flawless, but there was a weak spot. I waited until he struck again, then dropped into a crouch and swept my foot out. “Ha!” I crowed as he went crashing to the ground yet again. The bigger someone was, the harder they fell. And this man was a monster. Not wasting any time, I jumped atop that massive body, getting myself inside his guard, then slammed my elbow into his forehead, right in that soft spot above and between his eyes.
Fuck! Pain exploded up my arm. It was like elbowing a goddamned boulder! Just what was this guy made from?
“Are ye quite done yet, lass?” Brodie grunted, his expression murderous now. Those huge hands grabbed mine, and he rolled atop me, crushing me into the ground. “’Tis clear that ye’ve been trained by the Sentinels themselves, though ye dinnae seem to remember. Ye fight like a warrior.”
“Get off me!” I cried, struggling against his weight, but it was no use.
“Yer going to thank me for this later,” Brodie said, leaning in. His warm breath caressed my ear as he whispered in a strange language. Instantly, the tension bled out of me. My mind began to slip away as the foreign chant continued. Try as I might, I couldn’t fight the seductive words beckoning me to sleep.
“It’ll be all right, lass,” he whispered, in English now, just before I finally fell into unconsciousness. “I won’t let anything bad happen to ye.”
And for some strange reason, there was a part of me that believed him.
7
Arabella
Iwokeup in the backseat of a parked sedan, feeling a lot better than I’d expected. For once, I felt well rested, and my aches and pains were so faint that I barely noticed them. All the fear and anxiety from earlier seemed to have vanished without a trace, leaving my heart lighter and somewhat at peace.
At least… until I remembered what had happened.
“Shit,” I muttered as I pushed myself upright. I had to duck a little to avoid bumping my head against the car’s low ceiling. The interior was black and looked new, with air-freshener smell mixed with that familiar musk-and-earth scent. Brodie’s scent. Guess he’d tossed me in the backseat, then driven off to… where?
I ducked my head a little so I could peer out the windshield. Beyond the hood of the car, the red lights surrounding a sign blinked back at me—Mel’s Diner. I knew this place. We were just south of Portland, maybe fifteen miles from the industrial district Brodie had busted me out of. Leaning over the passenger-side headrest, I spotted a pair of jeans, two shirts, and a handwritten note. I snatched the paper up first, then leaned against the window so I could use the streetlights to read it.
In the worst scrawl I’d ever seen, Brodie had written:
I know you’re upset, lass.You have every right to be, after all that you’ve been through. But whether you want to admit it or not, you need me. We need to work together and figure out what’s going on—why those Demonkin and the bastard leading them want you so badly. But you must be willing to work with me in order for us to get anywhere. We can’t be at odds all the time.
So, instead of jerking you around, let me tell you the reasons why you want to take my offer. After all, you’ll want all the information possible before making any decision, yes?
I snorted at that. Yeah, I was real sure that the information Brodie was about to present was completely unbiased. But even so, a small smile tugged at my lips, and I read on.
You’ll want the clothes I’ve left on the seat for you because, well, you look like a hot mess without them.
Fair enough, I thought, looking down at myself. My clothes were torn and dirty, and I probably smelled.
You’ll want the pancakes and maple syrup inside this fine establishment I’ve parked outside of because they’re delicious and we both need to fuel up.
I glanced toward the diner again, and my stomach growled. Pancakes sounded awfully tempting. I couldn’t remember how long it had it been since I’d last eaten.
And you’ll want my help because, and this is the important part, you’re going to die without it. Gaia showed me a vision of a possible future of yours, and trust me, you don’t want it to come to pass.
A chill rushed down my spine against those words, all vestiges of amusement fleeing me. A vision? Brodie had seen a freaking vision of me, and it sounded to me as if I’d died in it. My chest tightened, and I braced my hand against the seat in front of me, taking in slow breaths.
Calm down, I told myself. Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything, especially since I was still missing so much info. Looking down at the note I clenched in my fist, I finished it.
I hope to see you inside. We can talk in there. If not, I wish you the best.
