Page 13 of Hell’s Weapon

She huffs but I see the upwards twitch of her lips. I’m melting this ice queen if it's the last thing I do.

“That was badass!” Looking beyond the rainbow haired object of my current fantasies, I find the blonde one, standing a safe distance away.

“Well, I didn’t want the gargoyle feasting on his ass, it would’ve blocked the path for the next several hours,” Ninety-Eight shoots back.

Seffy joins Tacita and they begin to walk ahead of me. I immediately jump up, pausing only momentarily as the scratches on my back pull painfully, and skip after them.

“I’m pretty sure you saved me because we’re just getting started, Ninety-Eight, and you didn’t like the thought of not having me around.” Yes, I say it to goad her. I’m pretty sure anger is her favourite form of foreplay, so I smile when she rounds a glare on me.

“Believe what you like.” She dismisses me and carries on, so I take a couple of jogging steps to fall in line with her.

“Come on, I know you regret turning me down each day. And when you saw me getting maimed you realised your mistake and had to save me so when we get to wherever it is we’re going you can rectify that.”

“Can’t you just thank me and move on like a regular person?” she asks, her tone showing her irritation.

“Oh, I know plenty of ways to thank you, Mo Stór.” Several of them flash across my mind, all of them involve both of us being naked.

“Just say thanks and leave us alone, we’re not even halfway yet.”

“The time will go much quicker with some good conversation.” We all hop up a few steps that have been carved into the path before squeezing through a gap in the rocks that now line the pathway. I note the little yellow streak about shoulder height on the far side, showing that we’re still going the correct way.

“I highly doubt any topics you have in mind will fall into that category.”

“I happen to be a great conversationalist.”

“Sure.”

“I am. What’s your favourite way to finish someone?” I ask. Beside Tacita, Seffy snorts.

“Is sex really all you think about?” Tacita asks back.

“Who said anything about sex? I was talking about killing.” I knew exactly what I was doing with the double entendre question.

“Oh.” She pauses to look at me once more. Her assessing gaze bores right through me and I hold my composure tightly. This woman is a completely closed book. Baiting her with the sex question was in part to get a rise out of her, and in part as I genuinely wished to know if she is indeed an assassin like I’d thought.

“Well?” I push.

“I’m not sharing any tips with you.” She marches off again. She may not think she’s revealed anything but she has. She’s just confirmed my theory. Finally, I might have someone on my level to play with. Ninety-Eight just got even more interesting to me as I follow her and her friend over the ridge line.

Chapter 6

Garrick

That woman is going to be the death of me. She’s going to irritate me and annoy me until I choose death over trying to understand her in the slightest.

She fought me on every interview when we brought her into custody, yet she allowed the arrest like she wanted to go to prison. She refuses to start the task with every other contestant and then wins the damn thing, crossing the finish line into the compound three hours ahead of anyone else, barring her two companions.

I don’t know what it is but Ninety-Eight gets under my skin. She has already figured out which buttons of mine to press to leave me angry and frustrated. She complies with every serious order, no questions asked. It's just everything else she rebels on. Including tearing her damn clothing to make it suit her body. When I’d opened her cell, back in the human realm, to transfer her to the wing where the other contestants were, my eyes had zoomed straight to the expanse of her tanned smooth stomach.

When relaxed her abs aren’t quite visible. She has a layer of cushioning covering her toned body but you can tell she is still incredibly strong. It’s when she twists or tenses that those indents make an appearance, she’s like a wolf in a sheep's clothing.

And now she’s lazing around the compound’s concrete rec area in just her damn underwear, having removed the orange suit entirely to lay out in the sunshine as soon as she crossed the finish line.

Number Seven, Thirty-Nine and her strolled in, clearly sweating but chatting like they were out on a recreational hike, not competing for their lives. They’d immediately taken a few of the bottles of water my team had offered and then gone over to the far side, stripped down and started sunbathing.

Number Seven, at least, has the dignity to just roll her top up slightly, only showing a slice of her midriff and rolling the bottoms of her trousers up to her knees. Number Thirty-Nine has his top off but I’ve already learned he does this frequently in the few weeks I’ve known him. And his skin I can ignore.

Hers I can’t help but study through the CCTV camera I’ve been watching for the last four hours. I’m in the surveillance room, a dozen monitors fixed to the wall around the desk, showing live feeds from the cameras around the compound.