Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sana’a inched closer to Kill until they finally touched from hip to shoulder.

He stretched an arm over her, pulling her close, enveloping her with his delicious musk.

He opened his eyes for a second, startling her.

She caught a flash of silver irises with gold flecks that were almost too alluring when framed by those dark, long lashes.

He shut them once more and sighed, leaning back into his seat.

She waited for his breathing to even out.

Nestling in, she reached into the folds of her hideously expensive gown.

Her fingers gripped her diaphanous shortsword.

She was about to slide it out under the cover of their shadowed embrace when she felt a steel-banded fist close over hers.

His lips found her ear, and he nibbled its edges, speaking in a low rasp, one meant for a lover. ‘While I might be indisposed and perhaps a tad distracted, I’m not blind, and my mind’s eye perceives more than you know. So lift your hand away from that blade and rethink your choices. Including any wild ideas to reach for that phaser in your boot or the second dagger sheathed to your back.’

Her body locked.

A frisson of terror went through her.

Her heart rate ratcheted and iced over at the hoarse words.

Still, the man by her side kept his hand banded over her waist, embracing her like a lover.

‘How did you know?’ she tipped her head and hissed into his ear, fighting the urge to rip it off with her teeth.

‘Twas no hardship,’ he rumbled in amusement. ‘I sensed you even before you walked into The BirdKage.’

‘Yet you let me -,’

He nuzzled her lobe. ‘Sit close, tell me inane stories, flirt with piss-poor effort? Naam.’

She jerked against him, a cold sweat forming under her armpits. ‘Why?’

‘Why not? You did say you desired some fun. I wanted to indulge all your fantasies. In your wildest dreams, you thought that your wiles would have me salivating and half in love with you in seconds, nada? So that I’d drop my guard so your blade could slice through my yearning heart, ay?’

She bristled, eyes flashing, body heating with awkwardness.

A jolt went through her when her blades contracted and iced over against her skin, their intent sliding into her mind.

The oath will not be fulfilled by dispatching him.

Sana’a’s breath hitched.

The SHärd blades inflexibility was in utter dissonance with what she knew, what she desired, and what she’d worked so hard for these past few years.

Her jaw hardened. She was so close!

‘Let it go, Sana’a.’ His grating whisper snaked down her spine, and she shivered.

Seconds passed with his tight fist pulsing hot over hers, his chest rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm against her cheek while her heart pounded.

In time, his resolve translated, and her hand relaxed, her fingers releasing the hilt of her dagger-shaped switchblade.

It fell back into its hidden scabbard.

He released her, and she twisted from him in a flash.

He smirked and leaned back, his narrowed eyes on her as he chugged back the remaining contents of his beer jug.

Scrabbling away from him, she stared at him as her face suffused with heated distress.

Failure had never occurred to her.

‘Got to admit, your fiery attempt almost lit this place up. Love your ballsiness ‘cause you are the shit to have tried what you did.’

His rasped words ignited an unrighteous blaze within her, which was dampened just as fast when he nailed her with an impassive gaze that froze her to the couch.

She slow-blinked while she vacillated between embarrassment and refusing to accept defeat.

He raised his aquiline nose, lush lips, jutting chin, and chiselled jaw, covered with a barely-there beard he’d let roughen.

Walk away,Sika whispered into her inner ear. There’ll always be another day.

Sana’a rose to her feet with a sharp pull of air through her nostrils.

He tracked her flow with his enigmatic eyes. ‘Leaving so soon?’

She smoothed her dress over her thighs, and his gaze followed her hands. ‘I think I’m done. For now.’

He smirked. ‘One question. Why Switchblade? You who carry blades fashioned by the pure essence that the gods breathed and filled the sky in which they flew.’

She clenched her teeth.

‘Are you willing to share?’

Her diamond prism eyes flashed. ‘Nada.’

He shrugged. ‘De nada. The thing is, I’m not who you think I am. The soul you seek to blade for your oath creed is long gone.’

The SHärd weapons on her back rippled and sent frozen tendrils down her spine, confirming they trusted his words.

Her eyes widened further. ‘How -!?’

He twisted his lips and narrowed his gaze on her. She felt a ripple of palpable energy cascade from him and wash over her.

‘I have my ways,’ he rasped.

She gave him an enigmatic look. ‘Are you an aether magikus?’

For how else would he have sensed her blades?

His eyes iced into hard and cold flints. ‘Who I am is not important. But like I said, I’m not who you think. Since your mission has nothing to do with me, you must leave.’

He spoke as if insulted by her small, irrelevant attempt on his life.

Most times, she wouldn’t care what her mark thought, but somehow, this man’s disdain cut different.

She clenched her jaw, unwilling to leave.

Sensing her reluctance, he leaned in and growled, jerking his chin towards his companions. ‘My friends here are none the wiser to your actions. However, if they were to discover, or if any of what you’d planned would have played out, your tiny finger bones would be the largest ever found of you.’

She stepped back, glaring at him. Wanting so badly to slash at him, but even her blades were rebelling, freezing against the skin on her back and her shin, in mutiny.

You’re failing me now? she accused them in a silent scream.

She’d downed a Drákon Queen and her son, slayed a destroyer and half his army and avenged her family two-fold.

She was the scourge of a hundred moons. Her name alone was held in high regard among the most infamous shikari of Pegasi.

Yet here she was, toothless before an unarmed, hapless liege.

Who’d turned out not to be as ineffectual as she’d thought. Instead, he’d infected her and her blades with haplessness. Crappin’ snowcock!

He twisted his lips like he’d heard her loud and clear, his intense gaze cutting through her.

‘You may have slain drákons, Switchblade. But never forget, we’re not drákons. We’re more than drákons. We are the KaɪˈmɪərəSābər Hawks of Katánē. We have the predestined sight of Kagṣān, so our enemy’s steps are foreseen.’

He looked away into the distant starlit night. ‘Pity, for we only sense the xkénos and are blind to the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers over Katánē’s present darkness.’

Her forehead furrowed, and she tilted her head, studying his chiselled profile in reverie.

He swung his large head back to her, serving her with a slow smile that was seductive yet menacing. ‘Leave now, fair Sana’a. It’ll be the wisest thing you do all evening.’

She took a step back with care at his low rasp, clenching her fists, alert for any sign of a counterattack. ‘I won’t give up. If not now, later.’

He lifted a brow. ‘Have at it, beautiful.’

Sana’a narrowed her eyes. ‘Underestimate me. That’ll be interesting.’

She turned to stride away past the tall, lean Kione, who’d disengaged himself from the woman hanging onto him.

He stepped into her path, and she stopped short, giving him a cool glare.

He ignored her ice, his keen eyes flicking over her stiff posture and straight back. ‘Is Kill sucking the life out of your evening? He can be rough-faced and fervent.’

Her breath hitched, vexed but powerless to do anything about it. ‘He’s not designed for fun.’

‘I’m too much of a blood-siphoning várkolák for her,’ the man she’d just failed to blade added with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I killed off her chances with me.’

She sliced her eyes to his, flashing with anger. ‘Which only proves that no matter how far I lower my standards, some always find a way to dip further.’

‘I could say the same,’ Kill clipped, his silver eyes glittering as if piercing between truth and falsehood.

Kione swivelled his head curiously from one to the other, his mouth smirking at the tension crackling in the air.

Exasperated, Sanaa stepped away, picking her way to the edge of their section.

Still caught in disbelief, she glanced back at her quarry.

His gaze was averted from her, and she bristled at the sight of Kione’s female companions now pouring onto the lounge seat she’d just vacated.

Kill welcomed them with a glacial smile, accentuating his defined jawline and cheekbones.

Just as she was about to swivel away, he sliced his eyes at her and winked, those dark, thick silver lashes falling on his chiselled cheek.

She snarled.

Forcing a frosty glare into her eyes, she gave him a tiny salute and turned, bristling as her boots led her away.