I swept ahand out, inviting her forward. “It’s the least we can do.”
She barely got two steps before a streak of black shot up to the high ceiling of the warehouse. It wasn’t simply onecrib,it was a swarm of at least ten of them.
“Well that’s no fair,”Krystanpouted.
I reached down and pulled off a small ball from my utility belt. “Don’t worry, Igot this.”I’d learned from the last job that sometimes flame throwers, even small ones, were too much force. There were other ways to break up a swarm.
I clicked a button on the sideof the ballthen chucked the metal orb up in the direction thegroupmoving overhead. Turning, I coveredKrystan’sbody with my own, my arm wrapping around her barewaistas Iloweredusin a crouch.
The small explosion came as a pop then a gasp, followed by several shrieks and panicked wings flapping away. I stood back up and stepped away fromKrystan. When she saw what I’d done, she burst out laughing.
“What was that? They’re all...rainbow colored.”
“It’s colored sand. I don’t have access to real explosives, so I made my own. Enough to startle them out of formation though, wasn’t it?”Exploding sand wasn’t lethal but the mini pellets hurt like a bitch. I’d learned that the hard way after trying to teach myself how to make one,guided byaYouTube video, and accidently causing a misfireand ahalf-chargedblast of sand to go off in my face.
When the cribscaught a glimpse of each otherthey dissolvedintopanicked fit,the sight of their rainbow-paintedbrethrenwas enough to send them headingfor the hills. But we’d locked down all the doors and windows before we woke up them.
Krystanwas now brushing tears from her eyes as she tried to stop cackling over their new look. An enraged, rainbow-colored demon baby seemed to recognize it was being mocked and dropped in a dive, ready to tearKrystanto pieces.
When she looked up, those dirty fingernails were inches from her eyes. Iswung my leg around the same time the cribdescended,and my foot connected withitsbody, sending it crashing into a pile of crates. Leaping over a rolling box, I cornered thedownedcrib and stuck my blade into its gnarledyetcolorful body.
Looking over atKrystan, she blinked. She’d been seconds from being blinded, and I could tell her brain was still catching up.
“Yougonnastand there all day, or are you down to play for drinks?” Before I could get an answer, two more cribs dropped with twin shrieks, aiming for my head.My blade sailed through the air.Ieasilylopped offseverallong, knottedarms and legs, along with a wing.
Finishing off the wounded crib with a couple sound swingsof her own,Krystansaid, “That’s two for me.”
“I practically set you up for those,” I argued.
“Well don’t be a sloppy bitch and finish them off yourself. If I take the killingblow,they go to my score.And what does it matter if I win anyway?I can’t drink, remember,asshole?”
“Right, forgot. Well, what do you want if you win?” I said, my words coming out tense as I continued to swing and fight off the crib.One, no two for me. We were tied. I would still takethe traditional, tworounds of beer if I won.
Krystanbacked up, as the crib circled around us. “I don’t know, what do pregnant chicks do for fun?”
Our backs met as we waited for them to attack. The feeling of her pressed against me was reassuring. “Apparently killing the shit out of a bunch of demons.”
“You think I’m having fun?”
“You’re smiling like a maniac.”
One launched itself at me, followed by two more from the sides. I drove my sword through the body of the cribcoming straight at me. I didn’t have time toremovemy sword,so I used the momentum ofitsbody and smashed it against the two otherslike alethalskishkabob.They rolled sideways in the air.
Krystan’sshoulder blades shifted quickly against my back as she took her own swings. I heard the wet, thuds of her bat connecting with bodies.
“Well,you’re smiling like a psychopath too,” she said.
“I’m not afraid to admit I’m having a blast,” I said through gritted teeth as I cut through one of the dazed cribsusing the side of my blade.
She laughed behind me.
Shaking off the bodythat had been stuck to my sword, I said,“That still doesn’t tell me what you want if you win.Because if I win, I’m still going to make you buy me the usual two rounds ofcoldbeer.Or maybe I’ll just have one of those big frosty margaritas and make you cough up the money for one of those fancy floaters.”
“Mmmmtequila,”Krystansaid.
Then all I could think wasmmmm,Krystan.Krystan’slips, that dip at her hips thatdisappeared underher low hanging pants.The blood pumping through my body had started south. I was neck deep in action and I wanted more. I wanted her, under me.
I whacked the lastcribdown with all the aggression and pent up frustrationI possessed.It split like a crackedcantaloupe.
