Page 17 of First Offense
Bile rose in the back of my throat. My arm was going numb beneath his bruising grip. And his stench was suffocating me. I longed for wintergreen to banish the stink.
But Auric wasn’t coming to my rescue.
So I’d just have to save myself.
“I don’t need a guard dog,” I said, then stepped forward, scraping my foot down the Noir’s bare shin with every bit of force I could muster.
The edges of my high-heeled sandals weren’t exactly soft. I tore off a layer of skin and followed through by slamming my three-inch heel right into the top of his foot. Unfortunately for him, he’d decided to wear slip-ons to the courtyard instead of boots. My ropy sandals weren’t appropriate for prison, but they were good for putting a two-inch hole in this idiot’s foot.
But instead of letting me go, the Noir snarled and threw me up against the stone wall behind me right as a flame shot up beside us.
We were still on the safe base I’d discovered, but barely.
My head bounced off the rock as he shook me violently against the wall, expelling the air from my lungs.
“You fucking royal bitch!” he snarled.
I lost control of my knees, slumping toward the ground, but the Noir grabbed me by the shoulders to shove me harder against the wall. Sharp edges bit into my wings like a dozen tiny blades, his iron-like grasp holding me upright.
“Get off me,” I seethed, my voice too hoarse to pack the punch I’d intended to deliver. I sent a knee to his groin, trying to shove his delicate parts up into his lungs, but I hit a wall of thigh muscle instead.
He grinned, and the skin around his red scar puckered. “The more you struggle, the more I like it. And the better you smell.”
I growled, lifting both of my legs off the ground in an attempt to front kick his knees, but I didn’t have the necessary room to follow through and only managed to scratch his ankles.
His sick smile widened. “Keep fighting, bitch. I’ll like it better when you scream.”
He jammed a knee between my legs and pressed his hips against mine, anchoring me against the wall, then he leaned forward to sniff my neck.
“No!” I struggled against his hold, sickened by the obvious erection in his prison-issued cotton pants.
If he tried to touch me with it, I’d rip it off with my fucking fingernails, even if he killed me.
He roared with laughter. “She’s a feisty one, boys! I’ll get the first tur—”
The man’s weight disappeared, and I fell to my knees on the concrete, a curse welling up from my throat as pain ricocheted up my spine. A spiral of fire to my right had me yanking in my wings again, my delicate feathers warmed by the flames.
I stood up, my back against the wall once more, quivering at the sudden change. Then wide, stunned eyes met mine a second before my tormentor’s body flew off the platform on an arc of blood that glistened like a liquid rainbow in the air.
My eyebrows shot upward at the dark-haired male taking his place—the one who had fought wing-to-wing with Auric.
The angel with the icy blue eyes.
His leathery scent wrapped around me in a calming cloak as he took down two more Noir without blinking. Then he looked at the final male, his fingers curling into fists. “Run,” he growled, the word for the other Noir, not for me.
I shivered and wrapped my wings tighter around myself.
The final male rolled his shoulders and ducked into a fighting stance, causing the dark-haired Noir to sigh.
“A dozen it is,” he muttered, not making any sense to me as he launched into motion. My lips parted at his sinuous movements, his body reminding me of water with his fluidity and grace.
He fought like Auric.
Precise. Lethal.Beautiful.
It was like watching a ballet of destruction, his long, athletic form lithe and proficient against the bulkier competition.
Three hits.
