The Werewolf Dates The Deputy - Kristen Painter Page 0,90
and fight wilder.
And it bled.
She realized something as she connected again, thanks to his sloppy swordplay. He was so far gone that the rage that should have been his greatest strength was making him reckless. And a reckless fighter was often the loser.
He would soon slip up and leave himself open enough for her to get her sword through his chest. That’s all she needed.
So she pressed harder on the metaphorical wound she’d found. “Sola always used to say how someday she was going to find some idiot berserker to practice on. I guess she did.”
He growled, overreaching with his next swing and missing wildly.
“She said she’d find one who’d do anything for her. One she’d pretend to love, all in the name of manipulation.”
He charged, but she stepped aside as if she were a matador and Leif a bull blinded by the mania of the fight. He tossed his sword into the air and caught it, reversing his grip on the hilt.
Then everything happened at once.
Titus stepped out of the house. “Hank is on his way.”
Leif threw his sword like a javelin, sending it straight at Jenna.
Titus shoved her out of the way.
She fell, twisting in the air as she reached for the weapon that was no longer aimed at her. She landed flat on her back as Kirsgut flew overhead and buried itself in Titus’s chest.
The scream that ripped out of her left her throat raw. Her vision went red. She leaped to her feet and charged Leif, flinging herself into the air and driving her blade into his heart.
His mouth came open, and his eyes flickered red-hot, then they burned out. Dead coals. He fell to the deck beneath her and, a second later, disintegrated into ash and smoke.
Helgrind in hand, she ran to Titus, tears blinding her.
He lay sprawled a few feet from the hot tub, Leif’s sword still jutting from his body where it had pierced his heart. She dropped her sword to return it to her back as she knelt beside him, cradling his head in her lap. She didn’t need to take his pulse to know she was losing him. “Titus,” she sobbed.
His smile was weak, his eyes unfocused. He tried to reach for her, but his hand fell back. “Hey. Should have ducked.”
How could he joke at a time like this? She sniffed hard. She was about to watch him die. She couldn’t let that happen. “Yeah, you should have. I love you. I’m not losing you. Do you trust me?”
He managed a nod. “With my whole heart.”
“Good. This is going to hurt for a second.” She eased his head back to the deck, then steeled herself to do the most terrible thing she’d ever done. “Close your eyes, baby.”
They were already closing. She had no time to waste. She pulled Leif’s sword from Titus’s chest and tossed it aside, then unsheathed Helgrind, raised it high and plunged the blade into the heart of the man she loved more than life itself.
He gasped, eyes coming open. He started to say something, but she didn’t have time to explain.
She wrenched Helgrind free, ripped the resurrection stone from the pommel and shoved it into the gaping wound left behind.
Light exploded from Titus’s chest, filling him with the sharp green glow of ancient magic. He seemed to levitate a few inches off the deck. She rocked back on her heels, sending every ounce of energy she had left toward him. Tears still streamed down her face.
If she lost him…Sola would not live either.
In the glow of the stone, Jenna realized Hank, Birdie, and Bridget were watching from the open slider. They looked paralyzed by what they were seeing. She understood. She wasn’t sure when they’d arrived or how much they’d seen, but there was blood everywhere and light spilling out of Titus, and she could only imagine what they were thinking.
The glow began to subside, and the wound closed, but Titus was very pale and not moving.
“Titus?” Bridget said softly.
Jenna couldn’t speak. She knew how this must look to his family. There was blood everywhere. She reached out and took his hand. His fingers wrapped around hers. That was all the sign she needed.
She looked up at his family, laughing through her tears. “He’s going to be all right, but we should still probably get him to the hospital.”
“Hey.” Titus’s voice was thin and reedy. “Am I alive?”
“You are.” She leaned over him, kissing his cheek. “But I think you’re going to need some serious