Pure Destiny (PureDark Ones #12) - Aja James Page 0,33
fists meeting flesh.
The Pure Ones’ training hall. That’s where he needed to go.
But he had to time it right. If his assessment held true, some of those additional security measures would be facial or retinal recognition for every door. The old Shield didn’t have this. At most, they used finger prints and motion sensors.
He’d bet that they had them now. He wouldn’t be able to get into the training hall by himself. He had to make sure that when he arrived at the doors, someone was coming out. As he filtered the multitude of noises his hyper-hearing picked up, he concentrated on the sounds coming from the training hall.
This was his chance. He had approximately ten seconds.
With a mighty heave, bolstered by the additional power from his Master’s experiments, he used the tensed zhen as a lever to force open the double doors. In the blink of an eye, he slipped sideways through them before they snapped closed again, the hair wilting in the absence of his will.
He moved swiftly down the corridor toward his destination.
Five seconds.
He used this time to isolate the coordinates of his target. That’s why he was here, after all. That’s why his Master planted him here. She’d calculated the Pure Ones’ every move. Thus far, they’d been extremely predictable.
The target was moving. Not alone. Coming in this direction. ETA ninety seconds.
And now, the warrior arrived in front of the training hall. Perfectly timed, a human Chevalier emerged from within just as he strode by the entrance.
“Hey man,” the human greeted casually.
A stranger.
But then, it had been over a year since the warrior had been one of the Pure Ones. There must be many new faces he didn’t know.
He gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, not meeting the man’s eyes, and quickly entered the hall just as the human exited.
With a glance, he saw the camera light above the doors blinking. If his enemies hadn’t noticed his escape from the enclosure, they’d certainly see his entry into the training hall.
It was highly likely that a silent alarm had already sounded. Enemy guards, led by members of the Elite, were probably already on their way. If his luck held, there wouldn’t be many Elite in the training hall. He wasn’t at full capacity yet. He could easily subdue dozens of human or immortal Chevaliers, but the Elite, especially if there was more than one, would push his limits.
“Dalair,” a tall, blond female breathed, her eyes widening at the sight of him.
So much for going unnoticed.
He knew he only had a split second to act before the Elite warrior called Aella would snap out of her momentary surprise at seeing him upright and moving about.
A second was all he needed.
He lunged toward the wall of weapons on his left just as she issued a shout and charged toward him.
Two Chevaliers stood in his way, but they weren’t fast enough to defend against his rapid-fire kicks and elbows as he cut through them with his bare fists, knocking them out cold with maximum efficiency.
Out cold, but not dead. He could have exerted a little more strength in his hits, but he held back. The Master hadn’t ordered him to kill all opponents. She didn’t care how he went about completing his mission. He didn’t care either.
Except…
It seemed unnecessary to kill the weak Chevaliers. Rendering them unconscious was just as effective.
As Aella unleashed her chakrams at his back while she leapt toward him with her superhuman speed, he twisted his torso and turned at the last moment, grabbing a sword and a long dagger from the wall.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw two other enemies—the Elite warrior Tristan and another human Chevalier. This one he did recognize. Adam Morgan. Ex-Navy Seal.
Duly noted, he focused back on Aella, who was closest.
If not for his own hyper-senses, he wouldn’t have been able to counter the speed of her attacks. It was also to his advantage that they used to hunt rogue vampires together, often paired on the same missions. He knew her fighting style. He used that knowledge now to counter her moves.
She came at him like the whirlwind she was, spinning and slicing so fast, he could not avoid a few shallow cuts as he deflected her attacks.
But he was stronger. He healed faster. And he was all but immune to pain. He felt it, he bled, but it didn’t slow him down. He reeled her in close on purpose. One hit was all he needed.