Bullet Page 0,91
against my hair. I knew in that moment that the only way he was hurting Noel was after hurting me first. With the decision my pulse and breathing slowed. I was at peace with my decision. I would take a beating before I let him hurt them again. Sometimes it’s not about winning; sometimes it’s just about doing the right thing even if it hurts.
“They said you hadn’t fucked them, but I knew they lied.”
“I protect a lot of people that I don’t fuck,” I said.
He shook his head. He kept his gun wrapped in its holster, but then he didn’t need a gun to hurt us. I had seconds to decide what I’d do next. If I shot him with lead, would he shoot me back with silver?
“Let go, Noel. I need room.”
Travis came and backed him up. I drew both the knives and let the gun and holster fall to the floor. I set my stance and held them both backward so the blades went along my arms. Once I’d thought knives were held out from the body like swords, but it depended on the blade and the type of fight.
He stopped moving forward, studying me. “What—I’m supposed to throw my gun away and come at you bare-handed?”
“Your reach is twice mine, and you’ll have claws, I won’t. I think the blades help make it a little more even.”
“Do you think I won’t hurt you? Do you think you’ve already cut off my balls? That I’m just another big house cat for your collection?”
“No, Haven, I think you will hurt me if you can.”
“Are they that good in bed? Are they better than me?”
“I’ve told you I hadn’t touched them before last night.”
“Lying bitch!”
“You’re good at fucking, Haven, but that’s not a good enough reason to like you.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You almost killed the two of them last night; are you going to try to finish the job?”
“They’re male lions of my pride. If they can’t defend themselves, then they die. It’s the way the lions run their business.”
“Now who’s lying?” It was a woman’s voice from behind him: the short blond werelion. She was as nude as Haven. Her body was lean and muscled, small breasts high and tight to her body, the swell of hips as slender as the rest of her. It wasn’t the slender of starvation diets; it was weights and running and work that had honed her down. I knew it because though I had more curves, my body had the same look to it. Like we’d both carved ourselves down into something small and hard and dangerous.
“Stay out of this,” he said, and there was the first hint of growl to his voice.
She walked wide past him, moving toward us. “The pride I came from was run by the women. A lot of prides are run by the women, because the men just want to fuck and fight.”
“We’re not all like that,” Travis said, and his voice was more angry than afraid; good for him.
She smiled, but kept her attention on Haven as she came toward us. “No, you’re not.”
“They’re the weakest lions in our pride,” Haven said.
“I need a lover; I’m my own fighter,” she said. She was almost beside me now. “I’m Kelly, Kelly Reeder,” she said.
“You know my name,” I said, “but I’m glad to meet you, Kelly Reeder.”
She gave a quick smile. “I wasn’t there when they started beating Noel, but Payne told me later that Noel was meant to be the only one. Travis wasn’t in trouble until he stepped in to try to keep Noel from being beaten to death.”
“Travis wanted a piece; he got what he wanted. Do you want a piece, too, Kelly?”
“If Anita is going to fight you, then yes.”
“Count me in.” It was the second new werelion female. Her short brown hair had been blow-dried and styled so it framed her face, but she hadn’t bothered with clothes. Even if she’d asked, none of my clothes would have fit her. She was close to six feet tall, and she hadn’t hit the gym for muscles. She’d exercised to be in shape, but she was all curves, breasts and hips. There was just something softer, more feminine about her, so that it would have seemed wrong for her to muscle herself down like Kelly and me.
“Stay out of this, Rosamond. You’re not a fighter,” Haven growled.
Rosamond—it was a name for a princess in a fairy tale or a romance novel heroine.