Page 125 of The Blade in the Ashes
“Where do you think you’re going?” Marcus’s smile only grew as he stepped over the threshold.
I swallowed my scream.
The sound of my boots scuffing on the floor as I backed away seemed piercing, but Marcus only watched my retreat with sly amusement. With just two long strides, he was upon me, fisting his fingers in my hair and yanking. I squealed, latching onto his hand even as I tried to kick at his kneecaps.
“You might be more trouble than you’re worth,” he snarled, throwing me forward.
I tripped, arms reaching out instinctively to break my fall, but before I reached the ground, my head crashed down into the corner of the hearth and rebounded back. Stars burst through my vision, momentarily blocking any ability to think or move as I fell weightlessly to the ground.
For a moment there was only silence and darkness.
And it was oddly peaceful.
Then I slowly became aware of Marcus’s laughter.
Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach and tried to breathe through the sudden waves of nausea.
“What’s it going to take for you to just stop fighting?”
Weapon. I needed a weapon.
He reached down, wrapping a hand around my ankle and pulling me back towards him. My fingernails scraped against the floor, leaving tiny divots behind. Blood dripped down my forehead and into my eye, giving the room a scarlet hue. I blinked against it, hands scrambling for something to grasp onto as I felt him preparing to lower himself on top of me.
I stretched for the fire poker, desperately pulling my arm farther and farther until...
A victorious roar erupted as I wrapped my fingers around it, grime covering my skin. It took every ounce of strength left in my battered body to turn and jam it towards his throat.
One thrust was all it took.
I shoved my hatred, pain, andrageinto a single thrust and let the fire poker pierce through his throat. And then it wasn’t just my own sticky blood that covered me.
He gurgled for a moment before falling heavily beside me. For a moment, we stared at each other until, slowly, any essence of life faded from his eyes.
It was a brutal kind of death, but I couldn't bring myself to feel any remorse for it. No, I savored the image of his death at my hand. I committed it to memory while I unabashedly reveled in the satisfaction that the man who had snapped Nessira's neck had gotten the punishment he so deserved.
Forcing a swallow, I pushed away from the body, my chest heaving while I trembled.
Gods.
“Marcus?”
George's voice rang out, far too close to the house.
I scrambled to my feet, slipping in the blood and grabbing onto the wall to steady myself.
He stepped into the doorway, eyes bouncing between Marcus’ body on the ground and my blood-soaked dress.
“What the fuck?” His murderous gaze settled on me.
I bolted.
Instinct took over, adrenaline coursing through me and soothing my many aches and pains as I darted down the hall and out the back door of the house. He followed only a step behind me. His shouting followed, wrapping around me like an ominous cocoon.
I needed to hide. In my current condition I couldn't possibly hope to outrun him, so I needed to bunker down someplace he wouldn't be able to find me until I could gather enough strength to flee.
I’d only managed a few yards, though, before the pain in my throbbing head became unmanageable. My ribs were already burning, my legs already threatening to buckle beneath me. Blood still seeped from the wound on my brow, flowing so steadily that I could barely blink it away.
Again, I stumbled, finding my balance before completely faltering as I rushed into the town square. Gasping, I choked on the air in my lungs, tears once again filling my eyes.
