Scorched Ice (Fire and Ice #3)(28)
Tendrils of smoke spiraled up from the black hole burnt through the front of her robe. Beneath it, she could see the charred and blistered skin of her breastbone. The hair standing up on her arms was singed at the ends, and she was pretty sure that, if she went to feel it, the hair on her head would be standing straight up. Her fingers twitched against the glass beneath her, slicing the tips of them open and spilling more of her blood. She tried, but she couldn’t get her hands to stop their jittery movements as electricity continued to course through her body.
No matter how badly her body ached, she had to move. Immobility guaranteed death. The thick robe managed to protect her from some of the glass, but it still sliced over her palms and bare feet as she rolled over and threw herself out of the pinball machine.
She hit the ground a second before the lights dimmed again and the scoreboard of the pinball machine exploded. Glass and mechanical bits fell over her. More glass cut open her palms and feet as she scrambled to get out of the way of a possible third bolt.
She shed the robe as she ran. Being forced to fight in a bikini should be reserved for one of the circles of Hell, but continuing to wear the cumbersome robe was plain stupidity.
She dove under the pool table, rolling to the other side as another current of electricity hit the ground inches from where she’d been. Quinn stared at the smoke rising from the smoldering carpet. Anger clawed at her chest and made her fangs prick with more than the need to feed, but also a desire to end this.
Rolling so her back was against the ground, she placed her feet and hands on the bottom of the pool table. Her brutalized flesh protested the movement as glass embedded deeper into her skin, but she gritted her teeth and shoved upward as the Hunter took a step toward her. Her muscles strained for a minute before the table flew up and away from her.
The man shouted and scrambled to get out of the way as the heavy table hit the ground and tumbled toward him. The floor beneath her quaked from the weighty impact of the table. Wood broke off and scattered across the ground. The white cue ball rolled over the floor before settling against her side. Blood smeared the ball, turning it a pinkish hue when she grabbed it before leaping back to her feet.
The Hunter had darted to the side to avoid being squished by the table, but one of its legs caught him in the thigh before the table crashed into the wall. The impact of the table leg caused the Hunter to stumble backward. While he was still trying to recover, Quinn heaved the ball at him. The Hunter was thrown more off balance when he twisted to avoid getting hit by the ball. The ball glanced across his shoulder and embedded itself a good three inches deep into the wall behind him.
Keeping her head down, Quinn raced toward him. The lights of the room and the still intact arcade games dimmed again. The tips of the Hunter’s fingers danced with electricity as she closed the distance between them. The next electrical bolt smashed into her shoulder at the same time her hand encircled his throat.
Clamping down on him, she kept the man in her grasp when he flung her across the room. She crashed into the wall with enough force to leave the indent of her body in the drywall before falling to the floor. Blood spilled from the three-inch-wide hole his electricity had torn straight through the flesh and bone of her shoulder. A whimper escaped her before she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Wounded and bleeding, the tentacles of her power latched onto the Hunter before she could think about what she was doing. The man gurgled, and his hands beat against her as his life flooded her. The bones in her shoulder grated and scraped together when they repaired themselves. Muscle closed over the hole he’d created in her.
The man’s cheeks hollowed out until his eyes looked like they might pop out of his head at any second. Saliva filled her mouth as she resisted the impulse to sink her fangs into his throat and feast on his blood while she replenished her battered body with his life.
Gritting her teeth together, she pushed him away from her. His clothes hung more loosely on his lean frame, and his cheekbones were sharper against his sallow skin, but he would survive what she’d done to him and eventually recover completely. His head turned toward her; she saw the shock in his blue eyes when they met hers.
“I told you, I’m not the enemy,” she grated through her teeth and pulled herself off the wall as she moved her damaged shoulder back and forth. The hole was still in the process of closing, but it had healed enough that she could move it again.
“What are you?” his voice sounded as if he had swallowed a pound of dust when he asked the question.
Quinn pushed herself to her feet as a shadow fell across the doorway. Her head snapped up; her eyes landed on the man from The Commission she’d seen at the pool earlier. She’d been hesitant to kill a fellow Hunter. He didn’t know any better than what The Commission had drilled into his head over the years, but she’d gladly tear the throat out of anyone who was a member of the organization that had tortured Julian.
She didn’t have a chance to go after him before the Hunter swung his leg out and landed a solid blow against the backs of her knees. “Son of a—”
She hit the ground before she could finish the sentiment. Tired of playing with him, Quinn spun, seized his ankle, and slammed his knee up into his nose. The man howled as his nose shattered in a rush of blood that nearly sent her spiraling into uncontrollable bloodlust. She couldn’t lose herself to her hunger, not with another enemy looming in the doorway.
Swinging her leg out, she caught the Hunter on the side of his head and sent him reeling to the side. Quinn moved rapidly across the floor as she turned to face the doorway. She growled in frustration when she discovered the doorway empty. The Hunter rolled over and this time came up with a crossbow in his shaking hand.