Bone Deep(40)

She glanced at Bullet as the need to fight raged through her blood. Bullet nodded and sent the babies to the house with Juana.

“Your arm is still mending. I will take it easy on you, sister,” Bone taunted.

“Fuck you, Bone Breaker,” Bullet responded with a grin.

They bowed to one another and the fight was on. Bone feinted, Bullet countered. It didn’t take long for it to begin to spiral. Her sisters, more than any other opponents, knew what Bone needed and sought to provide it. Her fighting skills were only as good as she continuously honed them to be. She’d always been quicker than the others, but when her opponents were as versed in dealing death the dance was infinitely more difficult. That was part of the allure of fighting them—it wasn’t easy.

The air shifted at her back and she turned, sweeping behind her and taking Bullet off her feet as she met the parry and thrust of Arrow’s sidekick. Besides Bone, Arrow was the martial artist. She blended every movement seamlessly, letting it flow from her core to her fist—truly channeling her power.

The need clawed under her skin—it was always this way. When she’d fought Master, she frequently lost control and the punishments had been harsh. Beatings, whippings, burns with a brand. She learned eventually to control the rage but it had been a close thing.

Rarely since she’d taken his head had she known that kind of overwhelming lust for death and the fight itself. Usually, it was after a period of time away from her sisters. Remove her from her anchor and the lust took over, weighting her down even as it propelled her to seek out the one thing that shut it up.

When she would return from particularly harsh assignments her sisters gave her what she needed—no holds barred fighting. Today was no different. She relished every punch she took because it allowed her the clarity to return it ten-fold.

She took a blow to the chest, knew it would bruise and watched as a mean smile broke over Arrow’s face.

“You have gotten slow, sister,” Arrow said as she began to circle them.

Bullet attacked Bone from behind, punching her in the shoulder. When in doubt go for the joints. Bone winced and Bullet turned that single second of inattention against her, spinning and backfisting her in the cheek. Pain exploded in her face as her arm went numb. Bone dropped to a knee, twisting her torso and punching up with her right hand, catching Bullet square in the gut. Her sister dropped like a rock, breath squeaking in through her mouth as she tried to catch it.

Bone stood and raised her hand to Arrow. Arrow automatically grabbed it.

“You should never trust a killer,” she whispered.

Arrow smiled and cocked her head, tugging slightly on her arm but Bone was too fast. She pulled Arrow into her body, spinning her around and catching her around the throat. She wove one of her legs between Arrow’s, hooking one of them and effectively trapping the taller woman. Then she took her sister to the ground and choked her until the other woman tapped but the lust didn’t abate.

Bullet punched her in the head, kicked her viciously in the side first and finally her elbow. That elbow deadened, and Bone released Arrow who rose to her hands and knees, struggling to draw in breath.

“Stop!”

It was a harsh command from three different men.

Bone could not stop, the taste was in her mouth, the desire to maim in her blood, and she turned on Bullet, striking blow after blow, tearing into the other woman with unmatched fierceness.

Bullet finally took a knee, lifted her face, blue eyes nearly black as she waited for Bone to finish her. That was when Bone realized she had lost control. Everything stopped—Bullet, Arrow, Bone’s heart. She fell to her knees and bowed her head.

“Sisters, forgive me,” she whispered.

“There is nothing to forgive, Bone Breaker. You are who you are and as your sisters it is our right to take your hate and pain from you,” Bullet returned as soon as the last word left Bone’s mouth.

Her sob caught her unaware, the hot track of a single tear the only indication that the pressure had made her crack.

“It has been too long,” she screamed at the sky. “I have killed for too long.”

“You can be more than a killer,” the man who now held her dreams called out.

She looked around—everyone was gone, except for Dmitry. She had not heard them leave. She was distracted and it left her vulnerable.

Bone shook her head. “It is all that I know. If you take that from me I will be…nothing.”

She watched fury take him, pulling his muscles tight and locking his jaw. She was empty inside and instinctually knew only Dmitry could fill that void with something other than pain and death. He held out his hand.

She watched him as a cat—wary, silent. Then she reached for him, stood as her fingers grazed his. He tangled their fingers together bringing their palms flush. His eyes reflected the capacity for a love that knew no bounds, but she was scared to reach for it.

“There is something else you can be, Bone Breaker ,” he told her, his voice infinitely deep and soothing.

She stared at him but said nothing, her throat raw with unshed screams, her breath stuck in her chest.

He shook his head at her unspoken denial and then pulled her closer to his body. “You can be mine.”

His words crushed her. The one thing she wanted more than her next breath and he was offering it to her. It was impossible.

Then he turned and she followed him to the house, up the stairs of the west wing and to his room.