Mistwalker by Naomi Fraser Page B

out of his reach, grabbed him by the ears and kneed him in the face. He swayed and muttered something unintelligible. Blood coated his mouth. He swiped at the mess on his lips and bared his fangs in a low growl.
    She stared at him in shock. They’d come for her. Of course they had. Hadn’t Juliun said he would?
    Vaughn jerked up, his hand tight around her throat. “Got you.”
    She twisted his grip from her neck with her left hand, and simultaneously, threw a right hook. He stumbled, but she followed, stepped on his foot, pulled back her right arm again, tucked her elbow into her side and bent at the knees.
     Her uppercut mashed his teeth together. Spittle sprayed from his mouth, his head reared back and eyes rolled to white. A sharp kick to his torso from her slippered feet, and he landed flat on his ass.
    “Don’t get up again, Vaughn. Next time, I’ll rip your bloody head off. That’s right,” she sneered, all pumped up. “You pieces of shit have a lot to answer for.” She frowned down at her fists, opening her hands and clenching them again. Wondering…if that was rather too easy. She knew her capabilities, but this was different.
      The van rocked, and then a door slammed. A man strode beneath the beam of the yellow headlights. A veritable giant, his large arms were ripped with muscle. “We can make this hard or easy, girlie.” His deep voice boomed across the lot. He brought his hands together and cracked the meaty knuckles. “You decide.”
    Sharp pain spiked into her lower lip, and she licked at the injury. She knew this world. The realm of pain and living against all the odds. No man could be that big, but if he was with them, then all bets were off. She sank into stance and motioned come on with her open hand. “All talk…”
    He raced toward her, and she judged the distance, and then vaulted onto the disabled rails. He came up, and she instantly twisted sideways, kicking his face with every ounce of power she held.
    He catapulted into the hospital wall, crushing the bricks. He shook his head, scattering bits of block across his shoulders, then he stepped forward; faltered, breathed deeply, raised his head and rushed her again.
    Lightning fast, she dropped to the ground and struck him with a violent roundhouse kick. Bones cracked. Blood gushed. He stumbled, big arms windmilling, but the weight of his head brought him down on his knees. Dark red blood spewed from his mouth onto the asphalt.
    She sprinted toward him, grabbed his ears and then kneed him in the face, hearing a sickening crunch. Finally, she spun and struck him with another roundhouse kick. She had to be sure he wouldn’t get up. Not now. Then she madly dashed for the hospital on adrenaline-fuelled legs.
    A burning sting swelled in her thigh, and she stumbled, but didn’t stop. Not until her legs were too leaden to move. The doors were so close. “Lift your feet, Simone,” she yelled at herself. “Scream for help. Heeeelllp…” Her voice tapered to a whisper. “Run, run…” Tears leaked down her cheeks. “Don’t let them get you. Not again.”
    A long yellow dart stuck out of her thigh, piercing straight through her gown. Her vision fogged. Everything rushed forward.
    “Sorry ‘bout that.” Vaughn crouched down beside her, his boots crunching on the bits of loose gravel near her left cheek. “He said you’d put up a fight.” Vaughn frowned and held up the tranq gun. “The prince of understatement. Thought Klaus would be enough of an insurance policy. I think you killed him.”
    She leaned up and lashed her right hand around his neck. Darkness forged an all-out assault over her senses, but her thumb jabbed into his windpipe, trying to rip it out.
    He dug his fingers beneath her grip. “Wait,” he gargled and gripped her arm. “Don’t. Klaus…I’m…” He tried to angle the gun into her skin again.
    The skin stretched across her arm to an unbearable tightness. She brought up her other hand, though both arms felt