When I broke his nose with the heel of my hand, he slumped to the side. “Thought it would be that easy, didn’t you?” I parroted back.
He yanked out the blade, releasing a guttural moan. No doubt the pain in his balls was excruciating, but not enough to make him give up. With the speed of a mouse on morphine, he raised his arm to strike.
I rolled over like a man on fire trying to put out the flames. When I hit the edge of the building, I staggered to my feet and caught sight of something rather spectacular—Claude scaling a nearby building like Spider-Man. His Chitah abilities were stunning to witness as he pursued an archer distracted by the fighting below.
Why weren’t they attacking Niko and filling him with holes? Why wasn’t Claude’s target shooting at Christian or me? What exactly were their orders?
I had too much alcohol in my system; no wonder I couldn’t move as fast or pin Kallisto. I probably could have chewed on his neck, but I really wanted to get through the night without drinking anyone’s vile blood.
Incensed, I grabbed the Mage’s bow from near my feet and snapped it in two.
“How dare you!” he bellowed, still lying on the ground, holding his crotch in one hand and my dagger in the other.
Knowing the attachment a warrior had to his weapon, I threw the broken bow over my shoulder and off the roof. Instead of vowing my death on behalf of his ancestors, he flicked his eyes in the direction of the noise below. Cyrus must have given them orders to make sure that no one interfered with the fight. The swords continued clanging, but not with as much ferocity as earlier.
Without a weapon, this guy was no longer a threat to Niko. I collected my dagger and sprinted toward the adjacent building where another archer stood guard. It was risky in my condition, but I leapt from one roof to the next, sailing right over the few feet of empty space between.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, the second archer fired an arrow at me. It pierced my thigh like a bolt of lightning, and despite the pain, I kept running like a savage. When I reached him, I shoved him right off the roof.
I gasped when he grabbed my sweatshirt. As I gripped the ledge to catch my fall, my body pinwheeled, throwing my legs over. The arrow snapped, but I didn’t have time to process the pain as the weight of him pulling my shirt caused the collar to strangulate me. We were three stories up, and the idea of becoming a human pancake put me in survival mode.
Unable to breathe and losing grip, I risked clutching the dark metal pipe in front of me. We dropped a foot or two, causing the shirt to dig into my neck even more. The Mage wasn’t giving up, but a swift kick in the head forced him to finally let go. I gasped for air, and the man hit the ground with a cringe-worthy thud.
“Lights out,” I rasped.
Kallisto suddenly glared down at me with relish. He must have jumped over from the other roof. Undeterred, I anchored my good leg around the pole, my grip tightening. He reached down and violently shook the metal, trying to jostle it loose, but it wouldn’t budge.
A primal roar from below made me shudder. It was animalistic, like that of a wild predator.
Claude was on the move.
I loosened my hold enough to slide down little by little, my shirtsleeve scraping against the brick. When the broken arrow in my left leg snagged against the building, I lost my grip. My eyes widened as I went hurtling toward the ground, the cold metal burning my palms where I struggled to stop the inevitable.
Before I hit the ground, someone caught me and took off running.
“Stop!” I yelled, bobbing upside down. I recognized the sneakers immediately. “Claude, you’re going the wrong way!”
I glimpsed a bow on the ground, but it wasn’t Kallisto’s broken one. Claude held me over his broad shoulder. When his pace slowed at the end of the alley, I wriggled free and fell in a pile of snow.
Claude anchored his fists on the ground, eyes black, all four canines out like a feral beast on the hunt. His predatory movements and animalistic expression sent chills up my spine. This wasn’t the Claude I knew. Blood stained his mouth and jaw—Mage blood.
When I sat up, he shoved me back down and moved on top of me, acting as a shield.
“Claude, I think it’s precious you care, but get the fuck off me. Niko’s in trouble.”
Wyatt burst onto the scene, his cheeks ruddy. “There’s a pissed-off freshy inside. You two wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Claude growled at Wyatt, who stepped back.
“What the hell flipped your switch?” he asked, shivering hard as he hugged his arms. “It’s just me, you big lug.”
When Claude recognized Wyatt’s voice or smell, he sat back and let me up.
I staggered to my feet. “Did your invisible friend have a braid?”
Wyatt jerked his chin at me. “You’ve got an arrow in your leg.”
I reached down and yanked it out from the back, blood spraying onto the snow. “Not anymore.”
He winced and struggled to avert his eyes. “Don’t ever ask me why you’re single. So… who’s the ninja dancing with Niko?”
I limped toward them. “Let’s go make our introductions.”
Wyatt snagged the back of my sweatshirt. “Hold your horses, Joan of Arc. That’s a big sword, and you have a little neck. Are you that anxious to say hello to the spook on my left?” Wyatt glared at thin air. “Put a sock in it, Genghis Khan. Don’t you have a light to go to?”
I grabbed Claude’s arms and gave him a hard shake. “Are you in there? I need you to snap out of it. Where are the other goons? Are they still on the roof?”
Claude’s extraordinary eyes changed colors, the gold fighting against the onyx until the ring of darkness vanished. Nostrils flaring, he drew in a deep breath. “I killed one. On the roof.”
Which meant the guy I threw off the roof was either still alive or had gone into the light. Probably the former since a Mage could survive a fall that high. Cyrus only had four men that I knew about.
Now three.
A flutter of spotted patterns rippled across Claude’s skin like a mirage. “Gem,” he rasped. In a burst of supernatural speed, he sprinted toward the main entrance in search of his partner.
Meanwhile, mine had pulled a disappearing act.
“Wyatt, ask your friend where his buddies are.”
Wyatt barked out a laugh and put his arm around my shoulders. “That’s not gonna happen, buttercup. What am I going to do, threaten to kill him? He’s already dead. Plus he’s kind of a dick, so I’d rather not talk to him.”
I limped toward the opposite building and groaned when I lifted my leg to ascend the fire escape.
“And where do you think you’re going?” I heard Christian ask.
I looked over my shoulder. Blood stained his lips, and he had a few more holes in his shirt to match the rip in his sleeve. “What happened?”
“I tried to drain the little bugger after I snapped his arm, but he was too fast. Looks like they don’t want us to interfere with the show.”