Page 26 of Hopeless Sacrifice
His footsteps pound against the dirt as he looms over me. With magic coursing through me, I shudder away from him. I take a moment to catch my breath as I play cat and mouse with an ancient corpse the gods have graciously kept alive.
He trails after me. From one flicking place to the next.
This is embarrassing.
I can’t seem to kill him. I can only dodge him.
How will this end?
I lean against the far wall, my palm planted against the warm brick as I take another short but much needed break.
How did I get this out of shape?
I could use a nap.
A nap sounds wonderful right now.
Ryder and Daxdyn flicker in, scaring the hell out of me.
My heart pounds hard as I glare up at the two of them.
“Dax insisted I bring him down here.” Ryder shrugs and I avert my glare to the fae at his side.
“I’m a little busy right now, Dax.” I peek over his shoulder at my opponent who’s stomping toward us.
“Busy playing hide and seek? When he gets his hands on you he’s going to toss you around like an uninflated ball. You’re just pissing him off.”
“What do you suggest?” My lips purse together hard. I mentally calculate how much time we have before Druw gets here and tosses me around like a damn deflated ball.
“I suggest you start protecting your core a little more.”
My core?
He’s worried about my core of all things?
I shove my hair back from my face and then stop, not moving an inch as his words circle my mind.
“Thanks, Dax.” My lips barely brush the angle of his jaw before I shudder away once more.
My body becomes solid when I’m just in front of Druw, poised a few feet above him. Channeling Loki’s magic, my fingers arch against the breeze and I pull him off the ground slightly, making him meet me half way. I put as much strength as I possess into slamming my body down on him. My boots meet the hilt of my sword tucked close to his abdomen, and I kick off hard from the weapon embedded in his chest.
And just as I had hoped, it tears through his abdomen. Right through his core.
The strong blade rips through the fae’s internally rotting organs and they fall in a splattering heap between his feet.
He lands hard on his knees, sloshing the mess and stench of his organs. I swallow back the smell of it and force myself to finish what I started.
Thick, dark blood coats the hilt of the sword as I pick it up. My jaw clenches, my palms holding tight to the damaged blade in my hands. I sweep the sword up with a mixture of strength and powerful magic.
It slices up through his ribs. The muscles of my arms tense as I force the blade through his shoulders and neck. I step past him as he lands face down in the bloody dirt with a hollow sounding thud.
I shudder away from it all. Away from the applause and away from the lingering stench of a centuries old death.
