Page 65 of Wolf of Ashes
I may not be able to see much through the slits of my eyelids, but in the background, the panthers appear to have nearly finished dealing with all of Vanguard’s snakes. It will only be seconds before they launch themselves at Jonah’s back.
“Give me your real name and we can call a truce,” Jonah says.
“I told you. I’m Veda.”
He shakes his head. “That’s a powerful name for any supernatural, let alone a pixie. Or are you a wolf shifter?”
My eyes are adjusting faster than I thought they would, although that really only means I’m not in intense pain anymore. I still can’t focus well. “Are you saying it’s too powerful for a woman like me? That’s fucking insulting.”
He leans a little closer. So close that his amber eyes fill my vision. “I’m saying that names have power. If Veda truly is your name, then whoever named you knew what they were doing.”
I want to snarl at him, let my lips curl, tell him I fucking named myself and yes, I knew what I was doing, but suddenly, my mother’s voice is in my head.
Sex is control.
My legs are inches away from wrapping around his hips—if I dare risk the burns. It wouldn’t take much to lift my hands, retract my claws, and let my fingers play across his sides.
He’s leaning in to me, his face is close to mine, and there’s a curiosity in his eyes that seems stronger than his distrust. At least, I hope it is.
I allow my lips to soften and force my eyes to open the slightest bit more so that I’m looking directly at him from beneath my lashes.
“I wasn’t given a name when I was born,” I say softly, speaking the truth. “I named myself. Veda.” I roll my name around on my tongue. “Maybe I’ll conquer you, too.”
Dark saints, I’d love to bury my teeth in Jonah’s flaming neck right now. Whether or not I’d tear flesh or enjoy playing with fire is another matter.
His expression softens. “Maybe you will.”
His guard is down. His hold on me has relaxed.
Well, thank you, Mom.
I reach upward, preparing to release my claws and drive them toward his ribs on either side of me. I don’t want to puncture his lungs or kill him—that won’t make me his friend, assuming by some miracle I can salvage this situation—just wound him enough for me to dominate this fight.
It’s at that moment that Diavolo’s furious shout reaches me. He’s a blur of darkness as he rages toward us and launches himself at Jonah.
The impact of his big body hitting Jonah’s equally large frame creates such athudthat it jars through me.
Despite my shock, I have a split-second awareness that I’m about to be free and I’m not going to waste my chance.
I launch myself up and off the table, my claws extended.
But Vanguard has followed close behind the keeper and swings his sword at Diavolo’s moving back, a blow so quick that the blade is a mere glimmer in the air.
The sword sails on through the keeper’s smoky form, barely upsetting the white smoke behind him, and arcs toward me instead.
Fuck!
I’m halfway up off the table and my neck is directly in line with the blade. There’s no time to defend myself.
Vanguard’s sword meets the side of my neck at the exact same moment that the tips of my outstretched claws impale the front of his throat. Shallowly.
We both freeze.
Across the room, Diavolo and Jonah hit the floor, rolling away from each other and nimbly back to their feet.
Diavolo is snarling at Jonah. “Lay a hand on Veda again, and I will end you.”
Jonah’s reply is sharp. “It’s not me you have to worry about.”
