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Dark spots crowded my vision, and I worked furiously to blink them away, my head throbbing.
I groaned, seeing the attacker coming just a second before it would’ve been too late. He charged forward from his hiding place, upside down, a knife raised high in his black gloved hand.
Blades against blades this time. Diesel was trying to be fair.
I threw my blade and it sank into his heart, sending him staggering back with a grunt.
Except, it didn’t strike his heart at all.
The Saint lifted his head with a grin spreading wide over his lips, gripping the handle of my blade to tear it out of the bullet proof vest.
Motherfucker.
I reached for another, the move also saving me from my own blade as it was hurled back at me tothunkinto a pallet wall six feet to my rear, deeper into the maze.
This time, my aim was lower, and the blade found a home in the meaty flesh of his inner thigh. I heaved my body upward, climbing the length of my leg to reach the blade at my ankle. Unsheathing it and cutting the trip wire holding me up in one fluid movement.
The air gushed from my lungs as I hit the cement floor, and I croaked even as I rolled, getting to my feet. I stormed forward, gasping as the Saint worked feverishly to staunch the flow of blood around the blade protruding from his thigh.
His eyes widened, flashing with terror in the ambient glow of the spotlight.
“Yield!” he hissed through clenched teeth, backing away from me. He released the pressure on the wound gushing his life’s blood over the cement to tug another two knives from his belt and toss them to the floor. “Yield,” he repeated as he knelt, lowering his head.
The muscles in my face twitched as I struggled to get air into my lungs, my left hand tightening around the handle of my blade as the darkness roared within, beckoning me.
Kill.
“Please,” he muttered, and I growled as I rushed the last four steps to him, reeling back to kick him in the head, sending him off to dreamland. I grabbed his off-balance blades from the ground and threw them high, embedding them in some wood shelving twenty feet off the ground where no one would be able to use them. They would be no good to me. I wantedmyblade back.
I tore it from the fucker’s leg, unwilling to permanently part with another of my babies. He could bleed out for all I cared.
“Yeah,” Becca said, but her voice boomed all around me, and I looked up to find her on her hanging block, head bowed as she sobbed. “One of them is staying with her tonight at Briar Hall.”
A recording. I searched and found the speakers placed high on other pallet racks around the warehouse.
“Which one?” A male voice asked, and a shiver rolled down my spine, making my toes curl.
“Grey.”
“And the others?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think you could find out for me, baby?”
What…
What the fuck was this?
The tape skipped and a new recording played.
“They went out of town for something,” Becca said in the recording, while my best friend sniffled across the warehouse, unable to look at me.
“For what?” the man asked.
“I don’t know. She just said they would be back later.”
“Do you know when?”
