Page 35 of Romancing the Orc

Vito stands behind him, gun pointed at the spot where Brokk’s chest must have been only a second before. The man’s mouth falls open, his eyes wide. “How did you move that fast?”

Then his expression hardens, his eyes turning flinty. He levels the gun straight at the center of Brokk’s chest.

A blur of shadow and darkness tackles Vito from the side. The asshole hits the ground with a meaty thump, his arms and legs flung outward in an ungraceful sprawl.

I gasp, and Klaus mutters, “What the fuck isthat?”

A panther stands on top of Vito, but it’s not like any panther from Earth. Long hair flows across its body in a swirl of black and gray that makes it hard to see. It turns brilliant green eyes on us and smiles a huge smile. “What I am is a cat sith, and I’m magnificent.”

“You’re who’s been following us,” Brokk says. “I knew I felt something. Why didn’t you show yourself before?”

“What can I say?” The panther’s grin widens past the point that should be physically possible, but he’s fae, so the human rulebook just got tossed out the window. “I like to make an entrance.”

“That smile!” I point at it. “You’rewhat I’ve been seeing in the trees! But just your smile. How is that possible?”

The panther laughs, the sound a ratcheting purr, and his grin widens. “It’s special cat sith magic.”

“No, it’s not that. Your smile reminds me of something.” My mind whirls, churning until I remember. A sputter of shocked laughter bursts from me. I loved theAlice in Wonderlandbooks as a child. “You’re the inspiration for the Cheshire Cat!”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a character in one of the most beloved children’s books of all time.”

“That is fitting, for the cat sith are magnificent and deserve to be lauded.” He laughs again. But he’s still fae, still dangerous. When Vito starts to stir, the panther swats the goon’s head with a massive paw, knocking him unconscious.

I open my mouth, ready to ask a million questions about the cat sith. I read about them when I did all my research on Faerie, but that’s nothing like meeting the real thing!

A meaty arm wraps around my neck and hauls me back into a tight hold. “Shouldn’t have dropped the knife, girlie.”

My breath stops, heart thundering in my chest. My hands clutch Klaus’s arm and tug, but it’s like trying to move a steel bar.

Brokk whirls, a feral snarl tugging at his lips. Fire flashes in his eyes, promising pain. The look’s not directed at me, but it still makes my instinctive animal self quiver like a mouse caught by a cat.

“Stay back!” Klaus yells, the knife a flash of silver in my peripheral vision as he waves it at Brokk.

I brace, expecting a long negotiation.

Instead, Brokk does an Olympic-gymnast-level move. He leaps the ten feet, his body sailing through the air in an arc that snaps Klaus’s knife arm away from me.

The goon gives a gurgled yell, falling backward, the hold on my throat taking me with him.

“Shouldn’t have held the knife so far away from her,” Brokk says, turning Klaus’s earlier taunt on its head. Brokk pries the arm from my neck, and as soon as I sit up, he hauls the goon away from me.

“This is for daring to touch her!” Brokk bellows, his fist smashing into Klaus’s face over and over with meaty smacks.

Damn. I never thought of myself as a violent person, but seeing that asshat get what’s coming to him is extremely satisfying.

When Brokk finally stands, Klaus lies completely still except for the rise and fall of his chest and the bubbly sound of breathing through a bloody nose. His face… his face looks like hamburger, raw and red.

I’m not the teensiest bit sorry.

“Asshole.” I kick his side. My leaf bootie won’t hurt him any, but it sure makes me feel good.

Brokk swoops me off my feet and holds me close. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine.” I loop my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I dropped the knife where he could get it. I thought you were shot.”

“It’s okay. You’re not used to combat,” he says. “Everyone does things like that the first few times.”

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