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The young woman kicked him in the shins and dug her manicured, acrylic nails into the tendons of his hands.
I turned back into a human and smashed into him, grabbing his hand with the knife and thrusting it behind his back.
“Run!” I shouted to the young woman.
Freed, she ran, her purse slung over her arm and smacking her on the side as she sprinted down the sidewalk.
The tracker roared and yanked his arm out of my grasp.
I turned into a cat and darted between his feet. Once behind him, I shifted back into a human and kicked at his lower back.
The tracker staggered from the pain, and I used the moment to unsheathe my short sword.
The tracker—hearing the sound—darted forward, getting out of range, then peered back at me. “What, aren’t you going to flee with her?” The tracker tossed his head in the direction the young woman had run.
“No,” I said. “Because I’m going to stop you.Now.”
Confusion flickered across his face.
I lunged forward, stabbing my sword at him in one of the patterns Charon had meticulously drilled into my muscle memory.
He lunged to the side, avoiding the elven blade.
I shifted to my cat body, snuck underneath him, then turned back into my human form while underneath him, slamming into him with the force of my body-swapping magic behind me.
He fell, knocked straight off his feet, and a flicker of fear skittered across his face.
I swapped my grip on my sword, narrowing in on the tracker as I looked for any weaknesses I could take advantage of.
Ear. Max shock factor.
I stepped into his space before he could stand, and slashed my sword along the side of his head.
He thrashed, so my blade only sliced through the top fold of his ear. He yelped in pain and tried to scramble backwards.
Disarm him.
With his hands on the ground it was easy to step on the knife and pin it to the asphalt, then stab my sword down at his hand.
The tracker let go of the knife and rolled away. He lurched to his feet while I kicked his knife under a bush—I certainly wasn’t picking it up, he’d probably poisoned it or something.
The tracker tried to adopt a fighting stance, but he was so angry he couldn’t settle. “Why don’t you fight like a shadow?” he shouted. “You’re more like—”
An elf, right?It made sense, given who’d taught me.
But I couldn’t give him a chance to end the sentence. He was a half elf. If he realized who Noctus was, it would be a disaster.
Ridden by desperation, I leaped across the gap he’d put between us.
The tracker raised his arm, blocking my sword strike with a leather arm bracer.
Unfortunately for him, elven forged blades were ridiculously sharp, so the edge of my sword cut through the armor piece.
His eyes widened, and his body shook, leaving him wide open.
“Leave my parents alone,” I hissed. I shifted my center of balance, leaning back so I could kick him in the groin.
The tracker groaned and fell to his knees.
