Read Online Haven (The Last Humans Book 3) by Anna Zaires, Dima Zales - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anna Zaires, Dima Zales
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the ground.
“I thought you wouldn’t consent to my control after my failure in Oasis.” Phoe’s words distract me from the horror of falling, but when the wind resistance hits my face, terror fills me once again.
Fiona raises her rapier.
Though he’s looking at me, some kind of instinct warns Brandon that someone is attacking him from behind. With impossible speed, he spins around, blocking Fiona’s strike with such force that she staggers backward.
I’m halfway down when Brandon takes advantage of Fiona being off balance and swings his giant blade. Fiona parries with her rapier, but she might as well be wielding a toothpick. Brandon’s blade pushes her elegant weapon aside and continues its trajectory toward her lithe neck.
Instead of splattering on the floor like I feared, I open my wings at the last second and slam my right katana down on Brandon’s broadsword, preventing him from decapitating Fiona. Unfortunately, his sword still leaves a gushing wound in her neck.
Instead of red, her blood is luminescent, like the blood of a strange deep-sea creature. She shrieks so loudly that it startles Brandon. I take advantage of his momentary distraction and slice open his left shoulder.
Ignoring the spurting of his blood, Brandon gives me his full attention.
Fiona is clutching at her neck, and I know I’m on my own in this fight.
Brandon thrusts his sword at my chest. I jump away so quickly there’s no doubt Phoe was responsible.
Brandon’s jaw tenses. He must’ve expected everyone in here to be an easy kill. His training holds, however, and instead of dwelling on my surprising spryness, he swipes at my legs.
I jump.
He thrusts the point of his broadsword at my right shoulder, and I parry with my left blade. The impact numbs my entire arm, but I don’t let that stop me. Instead, I slice Brandon straight across his bicep.
I hear the sizzle of my fire blade searing his flesh, and he yelps in pain, finally revealing that he can feel these injuries.
His cry gets the attention of his nearest muscle-bound ally, who stops chasing a bleeding Council member in favor of attacking me.
Crap.
My already-frantic heart is trying to escape my ribcage. Even Phoe can’t control my body fast enough to deal with two of these guys.
Then I notice Fiona’s neck. It’s no longer gushing blood. The bloody wound is bad and must hurt like hell, but it’s in better shape than I expected. Healing must work differently in this place. Though I’ve never seen a sword wound back in Oasis, I doubt they stop bleeding that fast.
Fiona is screaming something, but it sounds unintelligible. Then I see that she isn’t looking at me. She must’ve yelled for help, because a knife-wielding Council woman joins her, and they attack Brandon.
Brandon’s ally swings his weapons, a pair of long dagger-like swords with two curved prongs sticking out near the handles, and misses.
“They’re called sais.” Phoe’s whisper jars me, and I pull away, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed by one of the guy’s sais.
He looks surprised that I dodged his hits, and I—or strictly speaking, Phoe—slice down with my sword.
The guy’s arm falls to the floor, and the weapon clatters. The arm doesn’t disappear, however. I guess body parts don’t dematerialize here until their owner is killed.
“I don’t like the term ‘killed,’” Phoe says in my mind. “Why don’t we call it ‘Limbofied,’ since people are sent to Limbo? Regarding the lack of dematerialization, it is indeed interesting. When we stop his heart, I want to examine this Limbofication process closer.”
Before I can berate Phoe for trying to develop my vocabulary in the middle of a sword fight, my body does something I didn’t think it could do. My legs spread sideways, as if I’m an ancient gymnast. When my crotch touches the floor and a sai whooshes by my ear, I swing my sword at my attacker’s legs, chopping them off at the ankles. The goriness would usually make
“I thought you wouldn’t consent to my control after my failure in Oasis.” Phoe’s words distract me from the horror of falling, but when the wind resistance hits my face, terror fills me once again.
Fiona raises her rapier.
Though he’s looking at me, some kind of instinct warns Brandon that someone is attacking him from behind. With impossible speed, he spins around, blocking Fiona’s strike with such force that she staggers backward.
I’m halfway down when Brandon takes advantage of Fiona being off balance and swings his giant blade. Fiona parries with her rapier, but she might as well be wielding a toothpick. Brandon’s blade pushes her elegant weapon aside and continues its trajectory toward her lithe neck.
Instead of splattering on the floor like I feared, I open my wings at the last second and slam my right katana down on Brandon’s broadsword, preventing him from decapitating Fiona. Unfortunately, his sword still leaves a gushing wound in her neck.
Instead of red, her blood is luminescent, like the blood of a strange deep-sea creature. She shrieks so loudly that it startles Brandon. I take advantage of his momentary distraction and slice open his left shoulder.
Ignoring the spurting of his blood, Brandon gives me his full attention.
Fiona is clutching at her neck, and I know I’m on my own in this fight.
Brandon thrusts his sword at my chest. I jump away so quickly there’s no doubt Phoe was responsible.
Brandon’s jaw tenses. He must’ve expected everyone in here to be an easy kill. His training holds, however, and instead of dwelling on my surprising spryness, he swipes at my legs.
I jump.
He thrusts the point of his broadsword at my right shoulder, and I parry with my left blade. The impact numbs my entire arm, but I don’t let that stop me. Instead, I slice Brandon straight across his bicep.
I hear the sizzle of my fire blade searing his flesh, and he yelps in pain, finally revealing that he can feel these injuries.
His cry gets the attention of his nearest muscle-bound ally, who stops chasing a bleeding Council member in favor of attacking me.
Crap.
My already-frantic heart is trying to escape my ribcage. Even Phoe can’t control my body fast enough to deal with two of these guys.
Then I notice Fiona’s neck. It’s no longer gushing blood. The bloody wound is bad and must hurt like hell, but it’s in better shape than I expected. Healing must work differently in this place. Though I’ve never seen a sword wound back in Oasis, I doubt they stop bleeding that fast.
Fiona is screaming something, but it sounds unintelligible. Then I see that she isn’t looking at me. She must’ve yelled for help, because a knife-wielding Council woman joins her, and they attack Brandon.
Brandon’s ally swings his weapons, a pair of long dagger-like swords with two curved prongs sticking out near the handles, and misses.
“They’re called sais.” Phoe’s whisper jars me, and I pull away, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed by one of the guy’s sais.
He looks surprised that I dodged his hits, and I—or strictly speaking, Phoe—slice down with my sword.
The guy’s arm falls to the floor, and the weapon clatters. The arm doesn’t disappear, however. I guess body parts don’t dematerialize here until their owner is killed.
“I don’t like the term ‘killed,’” Phoe says in my mind. “Why don’t we call it ‘Limbofied,’ since people are sent to Limbo? Regarding the lack of dematerialization, it is indeed interesting. When we stop his heart, I want to examine this Limbofication process closer.”
Before I can berate Phoe for trying to develop my vocabulary in the middle of a sword fight, my body does something I didn’t think it could do. My legs spread sideways, as if I’m an ancient gymnast. When my crotch touches the floor and a sai whooshes by my ear, I swing my sword at my attacker’s legs, chopping them off at the ankles. The goriness would usually make
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