Blood of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 2) - Page 23

Sweat dripped into my eyes, and I backed my finger off the trigger, afraid I’d pop him. He thrust a thumb, plucked an eye out of one. Then he tumbled away, his arms just smears through space as he fell on the next. The bulbous head canted, hung by sinews with a glazed stare.

He leapt again, twisted mid-air. Another blur. He’d always been limber. But that fast?

Soon, Michio stood alone among the fallen creatures, chin tucked against the rise of his chest. Black blood splattered around his flickering eyes. Christ, he was the deadliest creature of them all.

Maybe he’d somehow imbued some of my speed? A side-effect of being intimate?

The ricochet of weapons ceased. Moments passed, strained and breathy. Did we kill them all? I didn’t feel them.

I squinted, blinking through the gunk on my face and the glare of the sun.

Movement near the woods drew my focus. Tallis and Georges jogged toward us, seemingly unharmed. I released a breath, and the air awoke with the buzz of grasshoppers and the drift of loam. A turkey vulture flew low, perched on a severed head. Several bodies away, Roark stooped on his sword.

I stumbled to my feet and half-sprinted, half-limped to his side. A river of blood painted his temple, and my heart rate slammed into overdrive.

“A bite, Roark? No!” I grabbed a fist full of his hair and pulled his head closer.

He swatted at me, a sword-sharp glint in his eye. “Bollocks, love. ‘Twas the wanker’s claws.”

My muscles loosened, and my pulse slowed down. I shook out my hands and surveyed the carnage.

Jesse bent over a mound of bodies, collecting his arrows, electricity sparking in his gaze. That gaze was aimed at me, or more specifically my body, likely inspecting it for injury.

“I’m still alive.” I raised my chin. “And so are you. A thank you will do.”

Jesse straightened and barked a mirthless laugh. “Hardly. Where my head’s at, darlin’, throwing you over my knee and welting your ass doesn’t begin to cover it.”

My breath caught. That was…unexpected. And tantalizing. His tone might’ve been teasing, but there was a claim there. He wanted to deliver that punishment, and the reason had nothing to do with me getting out of that truck.

Okay, maybe that was just hopeful imagination, but I couldn’t stop the twitch in my lips. “Promise?”

His eyes flared, consuming me in molten copper. Then he looked at Michio, the moment gone. “And you. You were supposed to keep her—”

“Go back where you came from,” a shaky voice bellowed across the field. “There’s nothing here for you.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, but all I got was a fume of rotten blood. Coughing, I turned toward the direction of the voice, a crumbling building.

A man and his rifle peeked over the ledge of the roof. “I…me and my friends don’t have anything you want. Get on outta here.”

More men? I doubted it. This motherfucker released a swarm of aphids on us. Why? Because he was alone.

My feet moved forward, my lips parting to speak, but Jesse’s hand clamped over my mouth. Then he shoved me behind him.

Standing in front of me, he eclipsed my view. “We have something you want, Mr…”

A pause, then “Amos. Just Amos.”

Jesse inclined his head. “Amos, we can help your nymph.”

“No, sir,” he yelled. “Ain’t seen one o’ dem since the virus. Go on now.”

I poked Jesse’s tailbone. “He’s lying.”

He lowered his chin, lips peeled back. “Shh.” He hooked his arm behind him, pressing the back of a hand against my spine and holding me against him. “We found your friend. He was collecting clothes and food for her.”

“You found Jackson?” Amos’ voice pitched with worry.

Shit. This wouldn’t go over well.

Jesse raised a hand to shade his eyes. “Did Jackson drive a white Chevy? With the safari logo on the side?”

“Where is he? Whaddya do to him?”

Roark leaned around Michio and whispered to Jesse, “If he doesn't stop arsing around with all the questions, I'll climb up there and fuck him off the roof myself.”

Jesse ignored him. “We found your guy in West Virginia.” His knuckles pressed against my lower back, his thumb rubbing restlessly over the skin beneath my tank top. “He was turned, Amos. I’m sorry. But he would’ve wanted us to help his girl.”

A heavy quiet drifted over the field. When Amos finally spoke, it was choked. “You can’t do nothing for the girl.”

Relief rushed over me. We found the nymph. I buried my smile in Jesse’s t-shirt, the wet cotton clinging to his spine. Strange how much I liked the feel of his sweat melding with mine. But that didn’t stop me from digging my nails into his hips to remind him not to screw this up.

He uncurled my fingers and pulled my arms around his waist, holding my hands against the stone slabs of his abs. “We have a cure for nymphs.”

Tags: Pam Godwin Trilogy of Eve Erotic
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