Page 59 of Dante's Circle Reborn

Before she could question him further or shake him to get the answers she wanted, there was a sound behind him, and he whirled, the red of his eyes lighting up the cave.

“Damn it, he found me.”

“You brought danger to my realm?”

“I thoughtIwas the danger,” he drawled, and she cursed under her breath.

“Who is it?” she asked, ignoring his taunts. He was on edge. And if he was, she needed to be.

“One of my kind who wants to eradicate the rest of us. And then wipe out the rest of you. He’s dark, but I won’t have you hurt.”

“Because you want answers from me? You want help?”

He looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “Because you’re mine.” And then he jumped, and a blur moved across her vision.

She let out a shout as a man in dark leather pants and a leather jacket came at Misha, his hands outstretched, clawed fingertips slashing.

She slid the water from the crevices around her and let it wrap around her arms and legs before she pushed it at whatever blur was attacking Misha. She might not trust the man, but she wasn’t going to let him die on her watch. After all, she had to find out exactly who he was.

The dark blur shaped like a man hit and slashed at Misha, who ducked out of the way in time. They weren’t using weapons. Instead, both were using immense strength and fighting skills.

They were far faster than she could ever hope to be, but she tried to lash out with her water at them, attempted to use her strength. However, the two were just too fast for her.

She watched as Misha gripped the other man around the neck and squeezed, and then the enemy sliced his claws down Misha’s side. Misha shouted, blood spraying all around him, and Caly moved closer, trying to help. She wasn’t going to just stand back and watch Misha die. She might not trust him fully, but she didn’t want him dead either. And the part of her that was pulled towards him, that wanted him, refused to let her stand back either.

She moved forward, using her water to slam into the unknown man. He didn’t budge, but then she used her strength and punched at the man’s face. His head shot back, and he hissed at her, fangs dripping.

She blinked. Fangs? What kind of paranormal was he?

He let go of Misha as Misha staggered back, putting his hand over his side, trying to stanch the blood. She kicked, lashed out at the other man, and got one good blow in before he swept his arm out and hit her so hard in the face, she saw stars. Her back hit the rocks behind her, and she blinked, spitting out blood as she tried to focus.

Misha roared and attacked the blurred man again. The other man kicked, still fighting Misha. She shook her head, wincing at the ache, and then stood up, trying to regain her balance.

She wasn’t the strongest mer-kin out there. In fact, she was better at using her brain than her fists, but she went at the enemy again. Fighting, kicking. When he sliced his fangs along her arm, she shouted, pulling her hand back as it stung. It burned, but she ignored the wound, trying to help Misha.

Misha clawed at the man again, then the shadow winked and disappeared just as Misha had before.

She looked down at her arm, the blood welling, and she cursed. “What the hell was he?”

Misha staggered towards her, took her hand in his, and placed his mouth over her arm.

She pushed at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to get the venom out before it kills you. He left a paralytic agent in your veins. Can’t you feel the burn?”

As soon as he said it, she felt it, as if molten silver slid through her. Her hands shook. “My goddess, what is it?”

“Poison. It won’t turn you into one of us, but itwillkill you,” he said as if being one of his kind was worse than death. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She couldn’t focus, however, because he latched his mouth onto her arm. She could feel the poison sliding back out, and she went to her knees, her body shaking. It was as if Misha were sucking on a snakebite, trying to get all the venom out. He spat out the blood, along with the silver venom and toxicity.

She rested her head on the cave wall, looking down at him as he kept spitting out the death coming for her.

“There, clean blood. You’re fine.”

And then he leaned against the floor, his hand at his side, and cursed. “Well, that went a little deeper than I planned.” Then he slid to the ground, resting his head on the floor.

She moved to him then, wiping his hair from his brow, looking down at the wound. It looked as if someone had taken a butcher knife to his side, four long gashes so deep that she could see his ribcage.

“Oh, my goddess. We have to heal you.”

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