Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,35

meant facing the music afterwards.

Quinn gritted her teeth and turned her chin just slightly as the hand at her throat squeezed. Something hard started grinding into her lower stomach, pushing her tunic up with its fervor. Still, Quinn looked at Lazarus. Curiously waiting, trying to piece together what the slight flutter in her chest meant as his eyes hardened into obsidian gems. His hands clenched and she wondered if he realized it. This reaction he had to seeing someone abuse her—touch her.

It intrigued her far more than she wanted to admit. The hand at her throat slipped away, reaching for her trousers, and still Quinn watched him. Waited. Her lips parted as teeth bit into the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder. Sweaty fingers touched the skin of her belly and that was where Quinn drew the line. She had enough experience with skeevs to know that their inability to use magic made them too bold when they never knew what they were facing. She didn’t need the knife in hand to take care of him as she let it fall to the ground and let the darkness rise.

Black wisps slithered through her veins, sliding off her skin like black vapor. The man touching her didn’t notice. He was far too concerned with pleasures of the flesh that he felt was his right to take, consent or no. He didn’t know that the very last thing you should do when you corner a fear twister was touch them.

He licked her skin and then froze. His muscles locked as fear overloaded his system. Terrible, enthralling, paralyzing fear. It seeped into his skin, pushing through muscle and tendon and bone, until every bit of his body was locked into whatever he saw. His eyes widened and Quinn turned her head back, noting the wide unseeing gaze that looked through her. She smiled. Tendrils wrapped around his arms, stretching up his neck and chest, thick and fat and restraining. The wisps circled his throat. He wheezed once and Quinn maneuvered her free hand between their bodies, pushing his chest. Like a living statue, he gave no resistance and simply fell backwards into the filthy alleyway.

His lips moved, muttering gibberish as Quinn readjusted her tunic. He trembled, slowly wrapping his arms around himself, completely lost in his own mind as Quinn took a step over him.

The last man, the only one of the three that wanted to leave, turned to run away from her. Quinn shook her head. Stupid boy. You should have run when you had the chance. He hit Lazarus square in the chest, but the man who held her contract didn’t move an inch. Finn bounced off him, and while she couldn’t see his face, she could sense his fear intensify as the boy looked up at the man he hadn’t seen until it was too late. Lazarus’ hand shot out, his scarred fingers wrapping around the boy’s neck, holding him upright. Only a moment passed before his eyes flashed, never leaving Quinn for a single second as he tossed the other man aside. Finn hit the wall and slumped over, completely limp. Not dead, but unconscious.

Silence sat between them, spanning the distance and filling the void where words went unsaid.

Quinn let out an exasperated sigh and the slight sound seemed to stir something in him. Lazarus snapped, hands shaking with barely suppressed rage as he strode forward. Quinn didn’t back away as he stopped before her. She made no move to stop him as he leaned forward, and with more gentleness than she expected, tugged the collar of her tunic aside. Her lips parted, but he wasn’t looking at her now. He was staring at the teeth marks that undoubtedly were beginning to bruise on her skin. His fingers brushed over them, gentle but calloused.

“You stupid, stupid girl,” he whispered. She tilted her head and his hand fell away. Her eyes flicked downward just as a shadow seemed to slither and disappear beneath the cuff of his sleeve.

Quinn frowned, slowly looking back up into his depthless eyes.

“You said you’re not a fear twister,” Quinn stated. Not a question … and yet, it was.

“I’m not.”

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and raised one eyebrow. “Then what are you?”

He gave her a hard look and leaned in close. “Like calls to like, Quinn. For now, that’s all you need to know.” His breath blew across her face, and she inhaled sharply. Wood burning over an open fire. Smoke