Sweet Ruin

FORTY-NINE

The imminent attack puzzled Rune.

If Saetthan had dispatched these bounty hunters, then why not hire twice the number?

Rune concluded they were all fey, but probably not ex-military. Carrying short swords, they displayed neither the martial showiness of Sylvan soldiers nor the distinctive longswords of the Titanians. They wielded no Draiksulian bows.

Perhaps these males might give him a challenge. Perhaps that was why there weren’t more.

“Josephine, I want you to stand over there by the wall and become intangible.” He wished he could send her away completely.

She laughed. “Forget it. I’m fighting too.”

“If you give me room, I’ll return to you within minutes.” Nearby guests made outraged sounds as hunters elbowed their way toward the dance floor. The orchestra went quiet, one instrument at a time. A hush fell over the ballroom. The wiser attendees dispersed.

One sword-bearing male stepped onto the floor, then another, and another. Each was focused on Rune.

His only trepidation was due to the female at his side. “If you’re vulnerable, my thoughts will be divided.” He unstrapped his bow.

“I can use telekinesis while I ghost.”

“Can you focus it enough to pick out my foes alone? I mean this. Trust me, Josie. Let me show you what I do.”

She hesitated. “If you get killed, I will kick your ass so hard.”

Though Jo dutifully moved to the wall and ghosted, her nerves made her outline flicker, so she remained visible in flashes.

She was a wallflower who wanted to be out on that ballroom floor—so she could fight.

Everyone had fled the area, except for a few idiot spectators peeking out from doorways and balconies, scandalized by the promise of a clash.

Bounty hunters advanced on Rune, surrounding him. How could she not fight for him? They kept coming, their circle tightening.

One gave a battle yell. Heart in her throat, she watched them charge.

Utterly calm, Rune strung five red arrows—poisoned ones. He turned his bow horizontal and let them fly. The arrows fanned out in the air, drilling through the first line of men, then the second—then the third.

Fifteen men down! They moaned on the ground, dying from Rune’s agonizing poison.

He nocked five more arrows, repeating the shot. At least a dozen dropped.

Like a blur, he swept through the fallen, collecting arrows from the last wave of bodies. As he refilled his quiver, he kept one arrow in hand to stab necks, wasting even more swordsmen.

He was faster than blood splatter, dodging jugular sprays. Compared to Rune, his attackers seemed to be moving in slo-mo. They plodded and slipped on the bloody glass.

She’d seen him in action, but never like this. Never against so many opponents.

With his quiver full, he vaulted to a balcony. Three couples were hiding there. Though Rune gave them only a passing glance, the males gazed at him with terror. The females sighed over him, about to swoon with desire. One reached for a meager touch of his leg.

Rune’s next round of arrows flew in a curving trajectory. He’d arced them to make impossible strikes, then leapt down for another arrow harvest. Not a drop of blood marked him.

Her worry faded. On occasion, he’d spoken of his fey and demon halves, one more methodical, one more aggressive. The methodical fey was at the fore as Rune coldly and efficiently destroyed the threat. Only a few were left standing.

He was magnificent. And he knew it. In the middle of a kill, he turned to take in her breathless, awed reaction.

The cocky dark fey winked at her.

She’d never wanted him more.

Once he finished taking out this trash, she’d kiss those smirking lips and nip the bottom one till he groaned. When they were alone, she’d strip, revealing the lingerie she’d bought today.

And if she let him have her tonight? He’d told her he would take pains to get her ready. She imagined him petting her with those amazing fingers until she was wet and aching, then he’d work his big shaft inside her. When he entered her to the hilt, would his kiss steal her cry?

As she fantasized about his ripped body thrusting and moving over her, she started to pant. Her heartbeat quickened. That’s my guy. She needed him desperately.

Tonight. Tonight she was going to surrender—

Steel kissed her throat.