Page 109 of Deadly Maiden

“Who are you?” I gasp as he marches me toward the bed. “You know we’ll have killed all your men by now.”

“My men?Pfft.I just need you and a horse. We leave out the window. You will call off everyone out there. Dragon and the others. Say it. Oh yes, who. I am Kroll Kraven, dearest Wyntre, edgemaster and?—”

He wants me alive—that revelation agrees with what everyone has said and done, and it’s still running in my thoughts as I pull my dagger from its sheath with my left hand. As I hook his left foot at the ankle and spin, I throw myself backward, risking arm dislocation.

He releases me and has whipped his dagger away to avoid slicing my throat, and so I barrel at him until he thuds into the barred door. He’s laughing as I hold the dagger higher.

“You can’t hurt me with that.”

The floor underfoot is solid oak boards.

“No?” Ironskin means he’s almost impossible to penetrate with a blade. Almost. And an ordinary blade, this is not. “You tortured my father?”

Kroll smirks and lifts his hand as if to grab my wrist again. “Of cours?—”

I drop to my knees and hammer the dagger through his boot, his foot, and into the floor. It sinks in as if he and the oak are made of butter. The shock makes him loosen his grip on his knife, and I smack it aside, sending it flying beneath the bed.

Jumping backward, I scoop up my sword and pray my dagger holds. It has so far.

His mouth hangs open. He keens at the pain, staring at where I have nailed his foot to the floor. So fucking satisfying. A tendril of black smoke rises from his boot and dissipates. Blood leaks from beneath the leather.

“How?Fuck.How! Your eyes,” he splutters out, horrified, fascinated, sounding confused. “Soulmate with a dragonshifter?”

What is he talking?—

I don’t care. I yank out the gheist pistol and fire at the center of his chest. Though it thumps him back into the door and he coughs, he slowly recovers and straightens. The flattened bullet drops to the floor. It’s lucky I used darkmatter on the blade. When he held me, I’d never have cleared the gun from the holster. I re-holster it.

Someone bangs on the door. “Wyntre? It’s Andacc!”

“I’m here!” I stare at where Kroll is pulling at the dagger and trying to free it from the floorboard. I think I hit a beam. “Good luck with that. What is it?” I yell the latter at Andacc.

I doubt it’s safe to try getting around Kroll to unlock the door.

Kroll spits at me.

Landos.I turn and start to cut him loose, severing the ropes, the gag.

“We have more enemies coming! His men have circled back!”

We have so little time. We might defeat them, and this bastard might get loose and use his whatever edgemaster thingummy talents and kill us all. I don’t know enough. He slumps forward, groans, tries again to free his foot.

“Get to the window. The window!” I yell at Andacc.

“Got it!”

A boarded-up window shows beyond the rusty bed with the thin bare mattress.

Landos tries to croak out words and smiles weakly. I whip my head around to check Kroll as the last piece of rope is severed, taking Landos’ sagging weight as I do so.

The asshole is still grunting and pulling at the dagger’s hilt, with both hands on it. I should kill him but cannot. I’m not using more of Anathema, and I have no time.

Besides, I know how to finish the job on this fucking evil torturer.

By the time Landos and I reach the window, Andacc’s men are there, ripping off the board. Two are wolfshifters, strong, furred, with blood on their snouts and singed fur.

“Fire mage,” one of them hurriedly explains.

“I iced him,” Andacc adds, grim of tone.

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