Wicked Edge (Realm Enforcers, #2)(84)

She’d known him forever. “Ivan, this might kill me. At least let me see my son once before we take the risk.” She tried to force the hatred from her voice, and it came out quivery.

He shook his head, not concealing the hatred from his eyes at all. “Perhaps this will give you incentive to survive.”

Fear and anger flushed through her. “You are such a prick.”

The doctor cleared his throat and moved to attach a couple of nodules to her upper chest. Her heartbeat blipped on the screen, way too fast. Then he reached for the syringe and glanced at Ivan.

The demon nodded.

“Just take a deep breath and relax,” the doctor said, grasping her arm with chilled hands.

Shots fired in the distance.

Felicity’s head jerked up. Daire was there.

In one smooth motion, she grabbed the syringe, twisted her wrist, and plunged the syringe into the doctor’s palm. He cried out and backed away, windmilling his arms. His ass hit the counter, and the tray of supplies tumbled to the floor. Sharp knives and hooks clattered across the hard tile.

“I’m mated,” he cried out, yanking the syringe free.

“Not anymore,” Felicity hissed, throwing the oxygen counter at his head.

Ivan darted forward, and she kicked, nailing him in the balls. He doubled over with a pained oof.

She grabbed onto the bed, swung around, and hit the doctor under the chin with a hard kick. His head snapped back, his eyes fluttered shut, and his body pummeled down onto the tray.

He’d only be out a few minutes.

Felicity slid to her feet just as Ivan stood up to his full height.

“I’m going to f*cking kill you,” he said, turning the gun on her.

Cold purpose flowed through her like bubbling rage. She stood and held out her hands. “You really need the gun for that?” Her lip twisted.

His chin lifted. “No.” Slowly, he shoved the gun in the back of his waistband. “I rarely like to get my hands dirty, but I’m going to bathe in your blood.”

She smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this way too long.” Bunching her knees, she jumped into the air, clapped her thighs on his head, and twisted. Gravity did its job, and she dropped, taking his head with her and forcing his body to follow.

He bellowed and punched her in the hip.

Agony spread along her lower back.

Her hands slapped the floor, and pain ricocheted up her arms to her shoulders. She released his head, rolled, and came up swinging. A jab to the throat threw her back against the counter.

She wheezed in air and sent healing cells to the broken trachea, her eyes wide.

Ivan stood to his full height, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead.

She scrambled down and grasped a scalpel to hold up in front of her.

He chuckled, the sound low and evil, before drawing a jagged knife from his boot. “Mine is bigger.”

“It’s not the size—.” She ducked into a slide, went past him, and cut his heel as she went. Blood spurted.

He bellowed, turning and yanking her up by the hair. Quick as a shifter, he flipped the knife in the air, grabbed the base, and jabbed the handle against her mouth.

Pain shrieked through her lips, and blood spurted. She jerked her head, freeing it. Her entire face felt like it was on fire. Gasping, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and maneuvered to the side. He took one step toward her, swinging out and backhanding her left cheekbone. Stars exploded behind her eyes, and she careened into the wall.

Tears clogged her vision.

Another punch came out of nowhere, right to her stomach. She doubled over, and her knees went weak.

She kicked out, her heel impacting his nose. Cartilage crunched with a satisfying thud. He yelled and clapped a hand over his bleeding nose. She took advantage of the weakness, jumping up and spinning a kick into his ribs. At least two of them shattered.

He swung out, nailing her in the temple. Her stomach lurched, and she went down.

He grabbed her hair and dragged her over to the examination table, lifting her up and slamming her down. She bounced, and her vision turned black.

He planted a fierce grip around her throat and held her down, scrambling through drawers to the left.

She struggled and tried to stay conscious. For so long, she’d trained to fight him. It couldn’t end like this.

“There.” His voice filled with triumph, and he turned toward her. “I changed my mind.” He squeezed with enough pressure to cut off all oxygen. “First I’m going to stick you full of this shit, and then, if you survive and negate the mating, I’m going to make you mine. You deserve to be f*cked and often until you can’t live any longer.”

She struggled, trying to stay awake, trying to free her throat.

He held the syringe up high as if to jam it down into her chest.

She calmed. For years, she’d trained to fight somebody bigger and stronger. Her boys needed her. Daire needed her. The monster couldn’t win. Drawing on strength she’d only hoped for, she lifted her legs, slammed them down on his shoulders, twisted and shoved. He dropped, his head hitting the examination table.

The hand at her throat loosened.

She slashed his wrist with the blade, and he yanked back. Following his movement, she levered up and jammed the scalpel in his eye.

He screamed in unholy pain, his hand dropping the knife and going to his eye.

The room quieted. She centered herself. Grabbing the knife, she propelled herself up on her knees and brought it down in his neck. Blood spurted up, covering her face and burning her skin.