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“Quiet,” commands the first knight. “Where were you last night, demon?”
“Asleep by the lake.”
“Alone?”
Rook tilts his head. “You should know the answer to that, if you tracked me here. Or did you get lost?”
The knight dismounts, his teeth bared in a sneer. “Where is the dragon? We know you couldn’t have killed her.”
“Why not?”
“Wasn’t any blood. Can’t kill a dragon without cutting off her head.”
“Could have flown away.”
“But she didn’t, did she?” The knight steps nearer. “We saw two pairs of footprints at your camp.”
Rook sighs. “Then why are we pretending? I’m a terrible liar.”
The knight’s hand jerks on his sword. The blade slides halfway from the scabbard while Rook sweeps his longsword from his back. Rook pivots, his arm sweeping, and blood flings from the steel.
Red gushes from the knight’s throat. Gurgling, he crumples in the dirt.
Bellowing, one of the knights spurs his horse into a charge. He levels his sword at the demon’s neck, but Rook dodges with a spin. The knight’s horse rears at the brink of the ravine. Dirt crumbles beneath its hooves as it skitters back. The other three knights jump from their horses.
Outnumbered four to one, Rook turns between each of his enemies.
My skeleton aches as the dragon within me fights to escape. I bite the rope binding my wrists, loosening it, just enough. I shimmy one wrist free, then the other, my skin red and raw.
The knight by the ravine slides from his horse and creeps behind Rook, ready to stab him in the back. The bastard is one wrong glance away from discovering me behind the boulder.
The dead knight’s sword gleams in the pool of his own blood.
Can I reach it if I run? But what’s the fucking point? I only know how to fight with claws, fangs, and fire.
The knight behind Rook attacks. He swings his sword to behead the demon; something, maybe the whistling of the blade, gives him away. Rook glances back, ducks, and spins.
Another knight attacks. Rook blocks and slides his longsword down the blade, angling for a crack in his armor, but the hit glances off steel. Yet another knight forces him to block again. Rook bares his fangs in a snarl. They circle the demon like a noose, tightening the knot.
He has nowhere to run.
And if he dies, I’m next.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Icould watch Rook die and pray the knights don’t find me.
Hell no.
I lunge out from behind the boulder and sprint for the fallen sword. One of the knights locks gazes with me. Rook stabs him through the throat and twists his longsword deeper.
The knight dies with a disgusting gurgle. Three knights remain.
“Kill the demon!” one says.
“Going to gut the fucker,” says another.
Skidding on my knees, I grope for the sword. My fingers curl around the hilt, slippery with blood.
