Her body folded forward without warning, pitching her into the empty space ahead. Then, she dropped into a crouch, sliding under the knife and around his flank in a soundless sweep.
Straightening, she pivoted behind him until her palm hovered just shy of his spine.
“I don’t need a knife to carve out your lungs, friend.” Her lips thinned against her teeth. “Just walk away.”
He shifted, one step forward—measured, casual—then turned. His attention roamed over her from head to toe, slow enough she felt the pressure of it as if he’d laid hands on her bare skin.
He had long black hair tied in a high tail; no stray strands escaped to soften the severity of his angular face. High cheekbones, sharp enough to cut glass. And eyes dark as pitch with the faintest thread of violet glinting when the light caught them wrong.
“You’re just a woman.” His mouth stretched, not quite a smile, more an invitation to mistake him for less dangerous than he was. “Nearly naked. No weapons that I can see.”
His fingers flexed against his side, squeezing over ruined fabric as his stance faltered with a shallow inhale drawn through clenched teeth.
“Should I be scared?” Pain broke across his features before he smoothed it away.
The scent hit her next. Copper-sweet and heady.
Fresh blood seeped through his palm from an ugly puncture wound in his side. And his chest looked wrong, somewhat caved in.
Still, his mouth curved—taunting.
Holy shit. Aimee blinked.How is this asshole even standing?
Her tongue pressed hard into the roof of her mouth as points slid down behind her gums, watching the crimson drops leak onto the ground.
No.
“Just leave me alone.” Aimee turned, shoulders hunching against the Hunger. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Oh, good,” he said. “Because I don’t think I have any trouble left to give.”
She heard the sharp exhale, then the thud of a body hitting dirt and dead leaves.
The muscles between her shoulders tensed as she half-turned, glaring down at where he’d fallen.
“Stars above…” The words ground out as her fingers flexed into fists at her sides. Of course, she’d get dumped into another world only to be saddled with some wounded idiot who couldn’t even stay on his feet.
“I should just leave you here.” Her hand settled on her hip as she gave him a pointed once-over. “You hardly look worth the effort.”
“I suppose that’s an option,” he grunted, trying to get his feet planted.
The lean cut of muscle beneath loose black layers wasn’t for show. And bracers hugged wired forearms, while thin-soled boots flexed around his feet.
“Or…” He pushed himself halfway up, finding support from a nearby tree. “Or you can get me out of here. The Hi Seisho will be most appreciative, I’m sure.”
Hi Seisho?She licked her lips.A leader on this world?
No weapons edged from his form, but the shape of them lingered: the flattening of cloth at the thigh and hip where hilts and blades had once hung.
Her brows drew together as she stared down at him.
Everything about him pointed to precision over force. He wasn’t a soldier.
Just where had the Pattern cast her, and why leave this man sprawled at her feet?
“You don’t exactly strike me as one of the good guys.” She chewed the inside of her cheek.
He coughed in response, dark blood spattering across his chin.
