The Curse (Belador #3)(8)

Her attacker twisted the chain and growled an unearthly sound, similar to one she’d heard trolls make. Even with Tristan’s distraction, no troll should have gotten the jump on her without her feeling his presence first. And she’d never battled a troll so unusually strong.

If every Belador weren’t fighting more than one opponent, she’d draw hard on their link for maximum strength and break loose. But that worked best when everyone fought the same opponent and could coordinate their movements.

She wouldn’t compromise another Belador’s defense by draining power from them when she didn’t know what the others faced right now.

The Rías beast in front of her had regained his footing. His body shook with fury when he came at her again.

She blinked at the blurry image and raised arms that trembled from her body shutting down. Defending herself would take her last bit of energy, and she’d still lose.

That left her only one thing she could do—protect her people and her best friend.

She dropped her mental shield briefly and called out to the Beladors in the cemetery, Everyone unlink from Evalle … now! I’m in mortal danger.

No! Tzader shouted over her before she closed her mind again, prepared for the Rías to attack.

Her vision grayed. She couldn’t think, barely able to focus on three razor-sharp claws whipping toward her throat.

A split second before the Rías made contact, its head exploded, blowing chunks of gross crap all over her.

Who had done that?

The debris from the head bomb must have hit the attacker behind her, who coughed and made spitting noises.

The chain around her neck went slack.

She sucked in a breath and felt unexpected Belador power flood her. Her vision sharpened in time to see Beladors converging on her from all directions. They were focused on her, sending her more energy, but the nearest warrior was over a hundred yards away.

She couldn’t waste time waiting for them to get closer and squander the opening they’d given her to escape.

Gasping a deep breath, she gripped the chain, hunched forward quickly and dropped to her knees, jerking her attacker over the top of her body. He landed on his back, then leaped to his feet and turned on her as she stood. Everything from his buzzed black hair, pale skin and beefed-up body to the leather jacket and jeans looked human … until his glamour wavered.

All she needed for final confirmation that he wasn’t human.

She fisted her hands and sent him a double punch of energy.

His head snapped back with the hit, but he shook it off.

What the…? Was he a troll or not? She’d never known one who could take an energy strike that hard and still stand.

He snarled with a grin, wide mouth stretching with teeth that sharpened to points as a little more of his glamour fell away right before he charged her.

Bad decision.

The last three weeks had sucked, and her frustration level had boiled over with Macha’s visit. After holding back all week against human predators, Evalle wanted nothing more than to kick some nasty’s butt right now.

She met the troll halfway, whipping her leg in a high arc with a boot aimed at his head.

But he surprised her by moving faster than she could believe, ducking his head, and locking his hands together, then swinging his arms across her body as he raced by.

The blow to her middle knocked her backward and off-balance. Her stomach wanted to heave inside out, but she spun, staying on her feet so he couldn’t jump on her back and pin her to the ground.

A troll? Really? Who had trained this thing?

She pitched short, hard kinetic blasts at him that he dodged as she backed up.

The troll’s glamour faded more, exposing a slick head with dark-green-tinted skin cratered like bad acne on one side of his face.

Black and dark green tattoos covered the other half.

He walked toward her, but he had that chain in his hand again, whipping it around faster and faster until the links made a whining sound.

Tzader’s voice came into her head. Wait for—

She shut her mind down to time her next move.

When the troll released the chain, she waited … waited … then bent backward at the waist, twisting to the side to avoid the chain as it spun inches above her face. The thick links slapped the ground behind her with a heavy kathunk.

The troll had used that only as a distraction.

He kept coming at her and got within two steps of reaching her with his mouth open to bite when she whipped her body from right to left, swiveling at her waist as if she intended to cartwheel away.

He adjusted, thinking she was running.

She didn’t run from anyone.

Using the momentum, she scissor-kicked her legs. The blades in her boot soles sliced horizontally across the troll’s forehead and beneath both eyes.

Landing on her feet, she swept around and punched the top of his head with her fist, knocking away the frontal lobe and half of his face. The air reeked with stink like a bad sewage drain.

The troll’s mouth locked in a silent scream as he fell backward onto the ground.

Tzader ran up to her, yelling, “Are you okay?”

She rubbed her neck and squeezed words out of her raw throat. “Yeah. But is that thing a troll or not?”

He didn’t look down at the body, just took a deep breath and shook his head. “You scare the hell out of me some days.”