Read Online Knight Avenged by Coreene Callahan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Coreene Callahan
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the step s . . .
Toward him. Sights set on Cosmina. Intent on killing a member of the Order he’d sworn to protect.
More’s the pity.
Somewhere along the line, he’d lost his godforsaken mind. Or at least, taken a temporary leave of his senses. The theory made a lot of sense. ’Twas the simplest explanation—the likeliest excuse for allowing himself to become shackled to the Goddess of All Things. But an oath was just that: an oath . Binding. Unbreakable. The very definition of honor. He’d pledge himself alongside his brothers-in-arms. Promised the goddess his skill along with his sword. The conditions weren’t negotiable, and the parameters put Cosmina firmly in his camp.
His to shield. His to keep safe.
One hundred percent his responsibility.
Which meant no matter the obstacles, he must keep his word. It was, after all, the only thing of true value he had left. So forget walking away. Leaving her behind wasn’t in his immediate future. He refused to allow Cosmina to be taken. Or hurt. Aye, she might be a pain in the arse—a mouthy one with a lush body and a mind of her own—but he would do his duty. Defend in order to protect. Provide what she neede d . . .
And get her out alive.
Shifting both sword hilts into one hand, Henrik palmed the dagger he kept sheathed against his lower back. Steel rasped against leather as he pulled the weapon free. Timing it to perfection, he waited for the lead assassin to crest the top step. Muscles coiled, he held his position a split second, then unleashed. The knife hurtled through the air an d . . .
Thud! The blade found its home. In the center of the bastard’s throat.
Knife buried to the hilt, blood spilled down the enemy’s chest. The bastard teetered a moment, then buckled, falling backward into thin air. Cursing, the assassins behind the leader leapt, getting out of the way as their comrade tumbled down the steps. A few Al Pacii down, many more to go. Henrik didn’t care. Outnumbered didn’t mean defeated. It simply elevated the challenge. Anticipation streaked though him. He launched another dagger, then growled in satisfaction.
Bull’s-eye. Right on the mark. Another idiot down for the count.
Pulling another blade free, Henrik sighted the enemy while tracking Cosmina’s movements. Strange, but even over the din—the hammer of footfalls, the shouts of fury, the chorus of steel striking steel—he could hear her behind him. Senses pinpoint sharp, Henrik reached out with his mind. Magic coursed through his veins. Awareness explained, upping the intensity as he listened to her move. Sweet Christ, his fixation was odd. Locked onto her, he perceived everything—the slightest twitch of her muscles, the frantic thump of her heart, the rustle and slide as she shifted, small boots scraping over the marble floor.
Without looking, he knew Cosmina was on her knees in front of the wall carvings. Reaching up, she pressed something against a line etched in stone. Hand steady, she turned it, each movement slow and measured. A faint click echoed inside his head. Henrik frowned. Bizarre. Beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. His awareness of her was downright eerie. And yet, the whisper of sensation couldn’t be denied. He felt it like a heartbeat, the throb and tear as his mind connected with hers an d . . .
He read her thoughts.
Ah hell. So much for controlling the situation. Cosmina was on a mission. Had a goal and was scrambling to make sure she completed it. Words like duty, honor, and redemption whirled inside her head. Stay the course. Be strong. Get it finished. The mental flash inside her mind exploded between his temples and—
Terrific. Just what he didn’t want. Another magic-driven skill to set at the goddess’ feet—mind reading, the gift of Thrall. Tareek had warned Henrik, explaining he possessed the ability to tap into another’s thoughts, bu t . . . goddamned son of a bitch. He despised the sorcery. Needed to shut it down.
Toward him. Sights set on Cosmina. Intent on killing a member of the Order he’d sworn to protect.
More’s the pity.
Somewhere along the line, he’d lost his godforsaken mind. Or at least, taken a temporary leave of his senses. The theory made a lot of sense. ’Twas the simplest explanation—the likeliest excuse for allowing himself to become shackled to the Goddess of All Things. But an oath was just that: an oath . Binding. Unbreakable. The very definition of honor. He’d pledge himself alongside his brothers-in-arms. Promised the goddess his skill along with his sword. The conditions weren’t negotiable, and the parameters put Cosmina firmly in his camp.
His to shield. His to keep safe.
One hundred percent his responsibility.
Which meant no matter the obstacles, he must keep his word. It was, after all, the only thing of true value he had left. So forget walking away. Leaving her behind wasn’t in his immediate future. He refused to allow Cosmina to be taken. Or hurt. Aye, she might be a pain in the arse—a mouthy one with a lush body and a mind of her own—but he would do his duty. Defend in order to protect. Provide what she neede d . . .
And get her out alive.
Shifting both sword hilts into one hand, Henrik palmed the dagger he kept sheathed against his lower back. Steel rasped against leather as he pulled the weapon free. Timing it to perfection, he waited for the lead assassin to crest the top step. Muscles coiled, he held his position a split second, then unleashed. The knife hurtled through the air an d . . .
Thud! The blade found its home. In the center of the bastard’s throat.
Knife buried to the hilt, blood spilled down the enemy’s chest. The bastard teetered a moment, then buckled, falling backward into thin air. Cursing, the assassins behind the leader leapt, getting out of the way as their comrade tumbled down the steps. A few Al Pacii down, many more to go. Henrik didn’t care. Outnumbered didn’t mean defeated. It simply elevated the challenge. Anticipation streaked though him. He launched another dagger, then growled in satisfaction.
Bull’s-eye. Right on the mark. Another idiot down for the count.
Pulling another blade free, Henrik sighted the enemy while tracking Cosmina’s movements. Strange, but even over the din—the hammer of footfalls, the shouts of fury, the chorus of steel striking steel—he could hear her behind him. Senses pinpoint sharp, Henrik reached out with his mind. Magic coursed through his veins. Awareness explained, upping the intensity as he listened to her move. Sweet Christ, his fixation was odd. Locked onto her, he perceived everything—the slightest twitch of her muscles, the frantic thump of her heart, the rustle and slide as she shifted, small boots scraping over the marble floor.
Without looking, he knew Cosmina was on her knees in front of the wall carvings. Reaching up, she pressed something against a line etched in stone. Hand steady, she turned it, each movement slow and measured. A faint click echoed inside his head. Henrik frowned. Bizarre. Beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. His awareness of her was downright eerie. And yet, the whisper of sensation couldn’t be denied. He felt it like a heartbeat, the throb and tear as his mind connected with hers an d . . .
He read her thoughts.
Ah hell. So much for controlling the situation. Cosmina was on a mission. Had a goal and was scrambling to make sure she completed it. Words like duty, honor, and redemption whirled inside her head. Stay the course. Be strong. Get it finished. The mental flash inside her mind exploded between his temples and—
Terrific. Just what he didn’t want. Another magic-driven skill to set at the goddess’ feet—mind reading, the gift of Thrall. Tareek had warned Henrik, explaining he possessed the ability to tap into another’s thoughts, bu t . . . goddamned son of a bitch. He despised the sorcery. Needed to shut it down.
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