the light press of the blade beneath her chin. As smoothly as she could manage, she relaxed her arms at her sides. Then brought the hand with the dagger in it from behind her to rest meaningfully between his parted thighs. “Looks like I found you.”
Simply because she could, Renata hit him with a small jolt of her mind’s power.
“Fuck,” he growled, and in the instant his hold on her eased up, she slipped out of his reach and whirled to face him. She expected anger from him, feared it a little, but he only lifted his head and gave her a small shrug. “No worries, sweetheart. I’ll just have to toy with you until the reverb kicks in and takes you down.”
When she stared at him, confused and stricken that he could know about the flaw in her ability, he said, “Lex clued me in to a few things about you too. He told me what happens to you every time you fire off one of those psychic missiles. Powerful stuff. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it just because you feel you need to prove a point.”
“Screw Lex,” Renata muttered. “And screw you too. I don’t need your advice, and I sure as hell don’t need either of you talking shit about me behind my back. This conversation is over.”
Angry now, she recoiled her arm and released the dagger in his direction, knowing he could easily step out of its path just like before. Only this time he didn’t move. With a lightning-quick snap of his free hand, he reached out and caught the sailing blade in midair. His smug grin totally set her off.
Renata snatched the last dagger from its resting spot on the kennel ledge and let it fly at him. Like the other before it, this one too was plucked from the air and now caught in the Breed warrior’s nimble hands.
He watched her, unblinking, and with a masculine heat that should have left her cold, but didn’t. “Now what will we do for fun, Renata?”
She glared at him. “Entertain yourself. I’m out of here.”
47
She turned, ready to stalk out of the kennel. No sooner had she taken two steps than she heard a whooshing sound on either side of her head—
so close it made a few errant strands of her hair blow forward into her face.
Then, ahead of her, a blur of flying, polished steel blasting toward the far wall.
Thunk-thunk.
The two daggers that had sailed past her head with un-erring aim were now buried into the old wood halfway to their hilts.
Renata spun around, furious. “You assho—”
He was right on top of her, his massive body forcing her backward, blue eyes flashing with something deeper than amusement or basic male arrogance. Renata retreated a pace, only far enough that she could brace her weight on one heel. She rocked back and pivoted, her other leg coming up in a roundhouse kick.
Fingers as unyielding as iron bands locked down around her ankle and twisted.
Renata went down onto the kennel floor, flat on her back. He followed her there, spreading himself over her and trapping her beneath him while she fought with flailing fists and pumping legs. It took him all of a minute to subdue her.
Renata panted from the exertion, chest heaving, pulse racing. “Now who’s the one with something to prove, warrior? You win. Happy now?”
He stared down at her in an odd sort of silence, neither gloating nor glowering. His gaze was steady and calm, too intimate. She could feel his heart hammering against her sternum. His thighs straddled hers, and he’d caught both her hands above her head in one of his. He held her firmly, his fingers trapping coiled fists in a loose, incredibly warm grasp. His gaze strayed up to their locked hands, fiery light crackling in his irises as he found the little crimson teardrop-and-crescent moon birthmark that rode on the inside of her right wrist. His thumb stroked over that very spot, a mesmerizing caress that sent heat coursing through her veins.
“You still wanna know what I saw in Mira’s eyes?”
48
Renata ignored the question, certain it was
Simply because she could, Renata hit him with a small jolt of her mind’s power.
“Fuck,” he growled, and in the instant his hold on her eased up, she slipped out of his reach and whirled to face him. She expected anger from him, feared it a little, but he only lifted his head and gave her a small shrug. “No worries, sweetheart. I’ll just have to toy with you until the reverb kicks in and takes you down.”
When she stared at him, confused and stricken that he could know about the flaw in her ability, he said, “Lex clued me in to a few things about you too. He told me what happens to you every time you fire off one of those psychic missiles. Powerful stuff. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it just because you feel you need to prove a point.”
“Screw Lex,” Renata muttered. “And screw you too. I don’t need your advice, and I sure as hell don’t need either of you talking shit about me behind my back. This conversation is over.”
Angry now, she recoiled her arm and released the dagger in his direction, knowing he could easily step out of its path just like before. Only this time he didn’t move. With a lightning-quick snap of his free hand, he reached out and caught the sailing blade in midair. His smug grin totally set her off.
Renata snatched the last dagger from its resting spot on the kennel ledge and let it fly at him. Like the other before it, this one too was plucked from the air and now caught in the Breed warrior’s nimble hands.
He watched her, unblinking, and with a masculine heat that should have left her cold, but didn’t. “Now what will we do for fun, Renata?”
She glared at him. “Entertain yourself. I’m out of here.”
47
She turned, ready to stalk out of the kennel. No sooner had she taken two steps than she heard a whooshing sound on either side of her head—
so close it made a few errant strands of her hair blow forward into her face.
Then, ahead of her, a blur of flying, polished steel blasting toward the far wall.
Thunk-thunk.
The two daggers that had sailed past her head with un-erring aim were now buried into the old wood halfway to their hilts.
Renata spun around, furious. “You assho—”
He was right on top of her, his massive body forcing her backward, blue eyes flashing with something deeper than amusement or basic male arrogance. Renata retreated a pace, only far enough that she could brace her weight on one heel. She rocked back and pivoted, her other leg coming up in a roundhouse kick.
Fingers as unyielding as iron bands locked down around her ankle and twisted.
Renata went down onto the kennel floor, flat on her back. He followed her there, spreading himself over her and trapping her beneath him while she fought with flailing fists and pumping legs. It took him all of a minute to subdue her.
Renata panted from the exertion, chest heaving, pulse racing. “Now who’s the one with something to prove, warrior? You win. Happy now?”
He stared down at her in an odd sort of silence, neither gloating nor glowering. His gaze was steady and calm, too intimate. She could feel his heart hammering against her sternum. His thighs straddled hers, and he’d caught both her hands above her head in one of his. He held her firmly, his fingers trapping coiled fists in a loose, incredibly warm grasp. His gaze strayed up to their locked hands, fiery light crackling in his irises as he found the little crimson teardrop-and-crescent moon birthmark that rode on the inside of her right wrist. His thumb stroked over that very spot, a mesmerizing caress that sent heat coursing through her veins.
“You still wanna know what I saw in Mira’s eyes?”
48
Renata ignored the question, certain it was
Similar Books
