Page 46 of Blood Oath
What are their curses?
If I can exploit whatever weaknesses they have, they’ll be pissed. And once they’re disgusted by me and move on, I’ll be able to do what I need to do.
It’s not a pity party when I say they’ll be better off without me. It’s just a fact.
A branch snaps several yards away, barely audible over the river. It draws my attention to a legacy creeping through the woods. Not just any legacy, though. It’s Sierra. She’s sticking close to the trees, on high alert.
I still don’t know which House Sierra is in, but watching her tiptoe around makes me roll my eyes. Poor thing has no idea how to check her surroundings. She’d already be toast if I were a competitive legacy who wanted to up my ranks and took this flag-collecting exercise seriously.
Deciding to get this over with, I slip down from the tree, allowing my feet to thud loudly against the forest floor. She doesn’t turn around. So, to give her another nudge, I fake a sneeze.
That makes her whirl to face me.
There you go. Good job. You get a gold star.
“You,” she jeers.
“Me,” I agree.
She whips her hair back and takes a defensive stance, looking at me like I’m a pile of manticore shit. “Bet you’re feeling pretty good about yourself, huh? Thinking your men will show up in time to rescue you from me? Give that shit up because it’s not going to happen. I hope you enjoyed them while you had the chance, bitch, because you’re not walking out of here.”
I roll my eyes. “Make your move, Miss Steal Your Men.”
“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps, marching towards me. “You’re so pathetic. I could kill you with my bare hands. And that’s just what I’m going to do.”
She’s going for hand-to-hand combat. My favorite.
Her pace is lacking, but the moment her fist flies, I deflect it against my forearm just as I turn, hooking the crook of my elbow with hers and using her momentum to send her spinning away. She stumbles, scowls, and turns again, this time launching toward me with her total body weight, arms reaching for me.
It’s easy to catch her wrists, cross them, and pull until her face connects with my bent knee. A sharp crack fills the air. She shrieks in pain and rears back, broken nose streaming blood like a faucet.
“You fucking bitch!” she snarls, scrambling to her feet and baring her teeth.
For a moment, I wonder if she’ll give up on hand-to-hand and shift into something or pull some other surprise attack. Instead, she starts monologuing again. Seriously. She just can’t seem to help herself.
“No magic? It must be weak as shit! Asscasters like you aren’t even real legacies—just fragile little mortals. You probably came here thinking you could fit in with us monsters, but you deserve to be with the rest of the weak, pathetic little humans at the bottom of the food chain. Where they belong.”
Of all the things she could’ve said, it had to be the one thing that genuinely gets under my skin.
Still, I make no expression. Keeping a poker face is second nature since it was drilled into me from such a young age. Instead of a resting bitch face, I have a resting blank face.
“Words are cheap. Take your shot.”
She circles me while wiping blood off her face. “Wonder what it would take to get your robotic plain-ass face to show some emotion. Gods, I can’t even imagine all the awkwardness I’m sparing your matches. Especially Baelfire. Take it from me; he loves to watch a girl’s expression when he’s railing them,” she smirks. “We skipped a couple of days of class to stay in bed a few weeks ago, but that dragon is insatiable. And the hickeys he left all over me? Gods, that was so hot.”
She really doesn’t know when to stop talking. To my surprise, her words are starting to make my skin itch. Which is annoying since there’s a good chance she’s just lying to get me riled up.
“You talk too much,” I enunciate clearly, warning in my voice.
She doesn’t get the hint as she circles closer, hands flexing at her sides. “I’m doing them a favor by getting rid of you. This way, they don’t have to fuck an emotionless, fake-ass legacy for the rest of their lives. It’d be like fucking a corpse! And you? You’re better off dead anyway. Not one person will mourn you when you’re gone.”
It’s just as unexpected for me as it is for her when I find myself straddling her back, having rounded a kick to the back of her knees so she’d fall flat on her face. She wasn’t prepared for my speed, but when she shouts in anger and tries to reach back for me, I grip her forearm, plant my foot on her upper back, and yank.
Her shoulder dislocates with an audible pop. It’s a beautiful sound.
“You’re wrong about three things. Let’s count them together, shall we?”
When I break the radius bone in her forearm, her scream splits through the forest.
