“I am not so easily—oof!”
The chair cracked over her head, smashing into pieces, and then I threw her bodily into the next room. She wasn’t a shrinking violet, however. Annette came at me with her eyes lit up and her fangs pointed, splinters decorating her from the ruined dinette chair. Instead of waiting for her to make a move, I charged and knocked her to the floor. She snapped her jaws with purpose, but I held her by the neck, landing brutal blows with my legs and free fist. We rolled around on the floor in a blur of limbs, but the bitch never stopped speaking the whole time.
“You’ve never had him the way I have, you puritan baby. Leaving Crispin was the cleverest thing you could have done, because it only inflamed his interest. He’d have tossed you away long ago if you hadn’t. I can’t imagine why he endures the monotony of shagging you at all, since you couldn’t handle him without his leash on. Oh, and Crispin telling you he loves you? I’ve heard that from him a thousand times as well, but in my case, time has borne the truth of it. You may as well pack up and leave now; you’re already through.”
I bashed her head into the floor to shut her up, smiling when I heard a crack as something fractured. Annette was strong, but not strong enough. I jabbed my knee into her spine until it snapped. She howled as her body bent at a wrong angle. While she was temporarily immobilized, I dashed up the stairs to the bedroom, grabbing a curved silver knife.
Annette was still on the floor when I ran back down, and a bark of grim amusement escaped me.
“By God, you think I’d fall for that? The first thing Bones taught me was to kick someone when they were down.”
I drew back my foot to slam it into her ribs when she moved faster than I’d given her credit for, sweeping my other leg out from under me.
“I know that, you insolent half-breed, but you clearly didn’t listen to him instruct how to block it!”
Back on the carpet we rolled, furniture flying in our wake. For a solid ten minutes, we grappled with each other. Annette scored several blows, but in the end, I plunged that silver blade through her chest.
She froze. Her eyes went from emerald back to champagne at once, and a single ragged breath escaped her.
“At least you lived up to your billing, but you missed. Not close enough.”
I straddled her, holding the knife still. “I didn’t miss, bitch. One flick of my wrist and you’re a bad memory and an even worse smell. I think we need to have a little talk, woman to skank. I know why you’re doing this. You want me to leave him again, but I can save you the oxygen in your words, because it won’t happen. Bones forgave me for deserting him and running off for years, so you can bet your overused, group-orgy twat that I will forgive him for one bad mouthful of you. Now, are we very clear on that?”
Annette glared up at me with pain in her expression. That silver hurt, I knew from experience. “You don’t deserve him.”
I almost laughed. “You’re right. That’s his issue, though, not yours. Here’s your issue—are you going to accept things the way they are, or are you exiting his life? See, I’m not plugging your ticker now because Bones really does care for you. Poor bastard doesn’t have any sense when it comes to women, does he? If you can handle being around him in a platonic way, I’ll deal with not slicing up your heart even though I really, really want to. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
Suddenly her eyes widened in alarm. “Do get off, he’s almost here! Faith, he’ll be so cross with me!”
In wonder I blinked down at her. Here I sat with a knife in her chest, and she was more worried about a berating from Bones? Her priorities were way out of whack.
“Deal?” I persisted.
She shot me an annoyed glance. “Heavens yes, now let me up! I have to put the house to right. Blast it, he just sped up!”
I rolled my eyes and carefully took the knife from her chest. She sprang up at once, but not in hostility. On the contrary, she became a blur of cleaning motion, like Martha Stewart on crack cocaine.
The car door slammed a moment later, and then the front door flung open. Bones glared at Annette with an expression so infuriated, I actually pitied her.
“And that, Annette, is called Pilates,” I said, giving an exaggerated stretch.
“Very entertaining,” she hastened to agree, turning blameless eyes to him. “Why, Crispin, you’re back early—”
“Save it,” he cut her off. With a raised brow, he went to me, reached inside the back of my pants, and withdrew the bloody knife I’d hastily shoved there. He then prowled over to Annette and dangled it in front of her stricken face.
“Unless Pilates has become downright lethal, I’d say the two of you were fighting. Fighting so loudly, in fact, that I could hear you miles away.”
There was simmering menace in his tone. The tension thickened. Behind him, a face peeked in the doorway.