“Payback,” she snarled. Blood ran from the knife onto her fingers. She flicked her wrist, cascading it over the snowy ground.
She looked like a specter. A shadow made physical. Her black eyes were so filled with chilling hatred that it was a wonder she didn’t go straight for the monster’s throat.
Instead, she stuck to surface-level injuries. A rhythm formed, with the wolf snapping at her and Maya barely darting out of the way, keeping herself close enough that she could leave blood behind.
“What is she doing?” Nell asked. Evie swallowed.
“It looks like she’s playing with him.”
Her voice trembled. All of her trembled, including her hand as she clutched the silver pendant hanging around her neck.
Realization rushed through Harper’s mind. Maya couldn’t possibly fight off an entire group of these people, so she’d goaded Kieran into attacking her on his own. A fight she was drawing out with the use of taunts and shallow cuts.
She wasn’t playing with him. She wasstalling.
Evie was scared. Terrified, if her state of mind matched Harper’s even slightly.
And Natalya knew that.
She knew Evie was in the cabin. Knewexactlywhere she was. No matter how important her responsibilities were, they couldn’t keep her away when her fear was this constant.
If this group attacked, Maya wouldn’t be able to fight them off. But a greater fiend and the nearby army at her disposal definitely could.
The wolf was moving sluggishly now. The snow was sprayed with red, and the wind carried labored snarls with it. Maya looked like she could go for hours more, but the monster still snapping at her throat was limping and wheezing.
She could kill it. Easily. With every cut she made, she held back from stabbing it in the heart and ending this. Instead, she danced around it with the ease of water slipping past a river rock.
The wolf made another desperate lunge, the movement slow and clumsy. Maya moved out of the way, almost lazily, swiping her blade across the creature’s back.
It fell to the ground, arms barely keeping it upright. It trembled, and then the wolfish form slipped away entirely. The fur sloughed off its body, limbs contorting into a more human shape.
Kieran barely resembled a person. His clothes were ripped to pieces, sweat and blood dripping off his chest and face.
“You’re looking a little tired.” Maya’s voice was perfectly even. She was bleeding too, but only from a few scrapes. For every one she had, Kieran wore ten. “Give up. Run home. Assuming you still have one. The Chains have probably cleaned out most of St. Louis by now. All you have left is whatever hovel you’re governing from.”
Kieran heaved. “You’re faster than last time.”
“I’ve trained since last time. A lot. I just had to picture you at the end of this knife, and then I suddenly had endless motivation.”
Kieran pushed to his feet. He was barely standing, kept upright like a berserker high on pain and violence.
The crowd were looking at one another as much as the combatants now. In fact, Harper noticed that there were fewer of them than before. They had chipped away, escaping into the night as it became obvious to everyone other than Kieran that he was outmatched.
He dashed forward with a roar, the sound more mad than fearsome. Arms swinging, eyes shining, and teeth bared, while Maya just stared at him. She adjusted the grip on her knife.
A loud crack pierced the night. Maya screamed, spinning forward and falling to the ground. Her face twisted in pain as she clutched her now bloody shoulder.
Harper put a hand over her mouth. Her breathing stopped as Kieran came to an abrupt halt.
He spun toward the crowd. “Who did that!?”
No one spoke. Everyone looked around, uncertain, until their attention fixed on a redheaded man standing by one of the pickups.
Booker lowered the smoking gun. “She was mocking you, boss. I only meant to—”
“I told you not to interfere.” Kieran rushed to him and shoved the gun out of his hand. “This wasn’t your fight. She wasn’t fucking yours to take down.”
“I-I didn’t,” Booker stammered. “I only nicked her. I would never take a kill from you.”
