Venom

28

That was my signal to move. So I pulled myself up onto the banister that overlooked the living room and leaped. I hung in midair for a moment before gravity took over. On my way down, I grabbed the edge of the iron chandelier. My momentum propelled me forward, like I was on a old-fashioned rope swing, and I pumped my legs to get the arc I wanted. Elliot Slater’s head snapped up at the noise, but the two giants were too focused on their boss to do the same. Slater shouted a warning. Too fucking late.

I dropped right on top of the two giants. One of them stumbled to the left and slammed into a table. My silverstone knife ripped into the other one’s back and sliced all the way down, like I was a sailor and his flesh was some sort of heavy canvas I was cutting into to slow my own fall.

He screamed with pain and bucked like a bronco, but I jumped up, grabbed his hair, and climbed on his back. The man tried to throw me off, but I had a death grip on his greasy locks. The giant paused a second to scream and gather his strength, and that’s when I reached around and slit his throat. His scream turned into a gurgle, and I felt the fight and power drain out of his body, along with his blood. The man pitched forward, and I got off the rodeo ride.

One of my knives was still stuck in the giant’s back, and the other had fallen from my grasp when he’d lurched forward. So I grabbed the two knives hidden in my boots and turned to face the other man. He’d picked himself up and was getting back into the thick of the fight. The giant roared with rage, charged, and swung at me. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. I slithered forward and popped up inside his nonexistent defense. One knife went into his heart. The other severed his jugular. I shoved him away and whirled, ready for Slater’s onslaught.

But Elliot Slater stood in front of the column where Finn was chained, just staring at me. His hazel eyes regarded the dead bodies of his men, then flicked up to my face. It took him a second to recognize me through the grease and blood that coated my features like a rubber Halloween mask. But once he did, the giant’s eyes narrowed, and a red flush crept up his pale, chalky neck.

“Blanco!” he hissed.

“You were expecting someone else?” I mocked. “And here I thought the idea that all giants were big and dumb was just a vicious stereotype.”

My eyes flicked behind him to Finn, who was jumping up and down, trying to slip his handcuff chain off the peg that secured it to the stone column above his head.

“I’m the big dumb bastard who’s going to rip you to pieces,” Slater snarled, his hands curling into fists.

“Promises, promises,” I mocked again.

I needed the giant to focus on me. Not do something smart and use Finn as a human shield.

Elliot Slater charged at me. I waited until the last second, then threw myself to one side and rolled up. I turned and immediately flung one of my silverstone knives at him. The weapon sank into the giant’s chest. With a low snarl, he ripped it out and threw it to one side. I grabbed the knife in the small of my back and tossed that one at him too. It also landed in his chest, but I wasn’t done yet. Two more knives came out of the pockets on my vest and whistled in Slater’s direction as well.

Solid chest hits, all of them. If Slater had been human, he would have been dead by now. But he was a giant and a tough one at that. He merely pulled out the knives and let them drop to the floor at this feet. Once that was done, he smiled and started in my direction.

And that’s when I drew the swords.

Elliot Slater had kicked my ass twice now — once at the community college when I’d let him and then again at Bria’s house the night that he’d come to kill her. But I’d taken something away from both of those beatings — the fact that I couldn’t let the giant put his hands on me. Not if I wanted to win. Not if I wanted to live.

Sure, I could use my elemental Stone magic to harden my skin, to make it tougher than granite. But Slater was arguably the strongest man in Ashland. He could keep punching me until my magic wore down. And when it was gone, when my strength and magic were exhausted and my concentration slipped that one precious second, my skin would revert back to normal. And then the giant could kill me with one well-placed blow. I couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t let him get close to me. Which is why I’d grabbed the two long swords from Owen Grayson’s wall of weapons. I needed a way to cut Elliot Slater down piece by piece and keep out of reach of his long arms at the same time.

Now I was going to see if Owen was as good a craftsman as I thought he was. Going to stake my life on it, as a matter of fact.

Slater pulled up short at the sight of the silverstone swords glinting in my hands. Then a cruel smile spread across his face. “You think those little toothpicks are going to stop me?”

I twirled the swords in my hands. “Come here, you sick bastard, and we’ll find out.”

And then we danced.

Around and around we circled, our shoes squishing into the puddles of blood already on the carpet. Unlike his men, Slater didn’t rush at me, thinking his superior strength and size would be enough to carry him through the fight. Instead, the smart, cagey bastard feinted in and out, testing me, trying to see how good I really was with the swords. He got the message when I sliced his bicep with one weapon and nicked his thigh with the other one.

Slater’s hazel eyes narrowed. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, Blanco.”

I smiled. “Every day’s a new surprise.”

We kept testing each other. I got a few more wounds in, content to slowly bleed the giant out. Slater realized what my strategy was and decided to up the tempo and use his incredible speed to his advantage. He came at me swinging in a lightning-fast pattern. Punch-punch-punch. I dodged the first two, but his last quick blow caught me in the shoulder before I could sidestep away. The hard hit rocked my joint, and my arm and hand went numb from the sudden pressure. Owen’s beautiful sword slipped from my fingers and thumped to the carpet. I darted forward and kicked it back and behind me, well out of Elliot Slater’s reach. The speedy giant was dangerous enough by himself. If he got his hands on a sword, well, it wouldn’t be good for me.

“Seems like you lost your toothpick,” he mocked.

“And you’ve lost more blood,” I replied, trying to shake the numbness out of my arm. “I’d say that makes us even.”

Slater looked down at his shirt and pants. Blood covered both of them, and the rips that I’d made in the fabric made him look like a castaway whose clothes had been shredded by the elements. The giant smiled.

“Not for long, bitch,” he replied. “Not for long—”

And then the worst thing in the world happened — Finn decided to get into the fight.

While I’d been circling around and nicking Slater, Finn had managed to get the chain holding his hands up off the peg above his head. Finn’s hands were still bound together by the silverstone cuffs, but he used the heavy chain like it was a piece of garrote wire. He leaped up onto a sofa, threw the chain over Slater’s head, and crawled up on the giant’s back like a monkey.

I’d give Finn points for style, if not substance, because Slater immediately backpedaled and slammed him into the closest wall. Once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Finn groaned, and the chain slackened around Slater’s neck. The giant threw off the metal and Finn, who fell to the floor, completely limp. Slater turned and stomped on Finn’s ribs with his massive foot.

“I’ll deal with you soon, you cocky bastard,” he muttered.

I rushed forward, swinging the long sword above my head, but the giant was quicker than I was. So much fucking quicker. Slater used his massive forearm to block my attack, then punched me in the face. Pain and blood flooded my mouth. I wasn’t anticipating the blow and staggered back, momentarily stunned. The giant pressed his advantage, charging at me. I managed to bring the sword up to hold him back, but it was only a temporary maneuver. Slater ripped the weapon out of my hands, tossed it to one side, and kept coming.

Since I was out of weapons, I reached for the only thing that I had left — my magic. My Stone power flooded through my veins, and I pulled the power up through my tissue and bones and muscles and joints, letting it pour over my skin, hardening it. Slater stopped short and eyed the gray, chiseled appearance of my skin.

“Fuck, you’re an elemental too. Just full of tricks aren’t we—” The giant stopped his muttering and glanced over his shoulder at Finn, then back at me. Knowledge shimmered in his hazel eyes. “Well, well, looks like Mab had the wrong sister all the while, didn’t she? Just think how pleased she’ll be when I tell her that you’re the one with the Stone magic. What was the middle brat’s name again? Oh, yeah — hello, Genevieve.”

Fuck. Of all the things that could have happened, Elliot Slater guessing my real identity had not been at the top of my list. Neither was the way the truth energized him.

Slater let out a loud roar and threw himself at me. This time I couldn’t avoid him. The giant slammed me to the carpet and started punching me over and over and over again, just the way that I’d feared he would. He peppered my face and chest with blows, never slowing his cadence or losing his rhythm. Punch-punch-punch. Every sharp blow threatened to break through my hardened skin. My head already rang from his previous punches, and it took every thing I had to focus on my Stone power to keep myself from being beaten to death. I had no doubt that the giant could keep his promise to Finn. He could hit me for hours without tiring.

In desperation, I threw my hand to one side and reached for my Ice magic. A jagged knife formed in my palm, and I snapped my hand up, determined to drive the weapon into Slater’s eye or neck or whatever the hell I could reach. But the giant saw the motion out of the corner of his eye. Once again, his quickness saved him. He grabbed my hand, stopping the forward motion, and glanced at the crude weapon that I had clenched between my fingers.

“An Ice knife. Cute,” he said.

Then the bastard snapped my wrist.

It felt like someone had taken a hammer to my bones. I screamed with pain and fury. My control was slipping, and now it was only a matter of time before the giant killed me. But mainly, I screamed because Finn would die along with me. Because I’d brought my foster brother along for backup, and I’d failed miserably to protect him.

Elliot Slater drew back and smiled down at me. “Time to die, bitch—”

BOOM!

Something slammed into Slater’s chest and stomach, rocking him back. Blood sprayed onto my chest and face, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air.

BOOM!

Another sharp retort spat out, knocking Slater back and off me. Cradling my broken wrist, I immediately scooted away from the giant, who pulled himself up onto a silver-colored sofa. My head snapped around, looking for my mysterious benefactor.

Roslyn Phillips stood in the middle of the living room, a large shotgun cradled in her hands. The vamp popped two more red shells into the gun and raised it up. I didn’t know where the hell she’d gotten the weapon or why she’d come back here when I’d told her to leave, but I was glad she had. Because the vamp had just saved my life.

Elliot Slater just looked at her in disbelief.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled. “You’re supposed to be upstairs, bitch.”

“Sorry,” Roslyn replied. “Gin was nice enough to arrange a change of scenery for me.”

While Slater was distracted, I got to my feet and picked up one of Owen’s swords. The pain from my many injuries threatened to overwhelm me, but I ground my teeth together and pushed the hot, searing sensations down into the pit of my stomach. I’d deal with the agony later. Right now, I had Roslyn to think about.

I moved to stand beside the other woman. The vamp gave me a curt nod, but she never took her eyes off Elliot Slater.

The giant’s gaze flicked from Roslyn to me. His chest looked like hamburger meat — raw, uneven, bloody. A steady torrent of blood gushed from his wounds, not enough to kill him, but more than enough to weaken him. Roslyn was a better shot than I’d realized. Then again, it was hard to miss with a shotgun. Still, I wasn’t going to complain. Because I would have been dead by now if not for the vampire.

Slater knew the score just as well as I did, so he changed tactics. “Come on, baby,” Slater crooned to Roslyn. “Why are you doing this? I was just trying to teach you a lesson earlier. You know how much I care about you.”

“Yeah,” Roslyn spat out. “I know exactly how much you care about me, Elliot. The same way you cared about those other women you told me about tonight — all the other ones that you brought up here and raped and killed when you got tired of them.”

Slater’s chalky face tightened, and his hazel eyes narrowed with rage. “And you’re just another notch on my belt, bitch. You really think you’re going to get away with this? Mab Monroe will hunt you down and burn you to a crisp. You’ll all die for this. Put down the gun, Roslyn, and I’ll spare you. I’ll tell Mab that you were just trying to help me. She’ll believe me. She trusts me. If you don’t, you know what will happen. Mab will come after you, and then after that sweet little niece and sister you love so much. Xavier too. You’ll all be dead and burned and gone. Charred to fucking ashes by Mab.”

Roslyn just stared at the giant, an unreadable expression on her face. I stood beside her, but I didn’t say anything. This was the vamp’s fight now. She had to stand up to Elliot Slater now, or what had happened these last few days would haunt her the rest of her life. More so, anyway, than it already would. Roslyn swayed side to side, and the shotgun shook in her trembling hands. For a moment, I thought that she was lost. That Slater had won this final round of cruel torture.

But then, Roslyn’s face hardened underneath the blood and bruises, and a cold, terrible light filled her dark eyes. Her back straightened, her fingers tightened on the shotgun, and once again, I saw a glimmer of the hard-assed vampire that I remembered. The one who’d bared her fangs at me when I’d once dared to threaten her niece.

“Maybe I won’t get away with it,” Roslyn snarled. “But at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you’re dead. Go to hell, Elliot.”

Roslyn stepped forward and fired the gun.

BOOM! BOOM!

Elliot Slater’s head exploded in a mass of blood and brains and bone. The giant twitched once, fell to the floor, and was still.