“But he shot me! Doesn’t that count for something? What the hell is he doing with d’Ambray anyway? If he switched sides, I can kill him.”
“Crusaders are fanatics,” Derek said. “It’s not likely he switched sides. Jim thinks he’s undercover.”
“Even if he is, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “He made the decision to block us. But running up to him and trying to punch him is a bad idea. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”
We had to get past Nick. We had vampires behind us and taking a different route would take too long. We were committed now. We had to go forward.
“We don’t want to fight,” Robert called out. “We know who you are. We have no reason to kill you.”
Nick pulled off his gloves and dropped them on the ice.
“Perhaps you should negotiate?” Robert glanced at me.
Sure. I cleared my throat. “Move or I’ll cut your head off.”
Nick took off his leather jacket and tossed it aside.
“He has no weapons,” Derek said.
Robert grimaced.
No weapons meant magic, and whatever he had would be nasty, because there were five of us and one of him and he didn’t look worried. The Nick I knew had very specific powers. He could tell how much magic you had by touching you and he had uncanny hand-eye coordination, which made him very accurate with guns and knives. If he had combat magic, he didn’t use it even when fighting for his life, which probably meant he didn’t have it at the time. But he’d been hanging out with Hugh for over a year, probably more. Now Nick was a jack-in-the-box. There was no telling what fun surprises would pop out when you wound him up.
Nick pulled off his sweater. His arms weren’t just defined, they were carved, as if someone had cut him out of a slab of stone with a sharp knife. His neck was thick, his shoulders broad, and his gray T-shirt, tight across his shoulders, was loose over his middle. That body was the result of hours and hours at the gym, spent not bulking up by lifting heavier and heavier weights, but by kicking, punching, grappling, and running. He wasn’t shredded, he was just hard, conditioned to throw a devastating blow and to take one and keep going. He looked like you could punch him for hours and it would just make him madder.
His T-shirt followed. Yep. Just like I thought.
“Before you start dancing, we don’t have any cash!” I called.
“Woo!” Desandra waved her arms. “Take it off!”
“How do you want to go about this?” Robert asked me quietly.
“I can give it a shot,” Ascanio offered.
“Sit your ass down, Don Juanabe,” Derek said.
“Don Juanabe?” Ascanio pulled out his swords.
“Don Juan Wannabe,” Derek explained. “See, I shortened it. If you still don’t get it, I’ll write it down for you after the fight.”
“You’ve maxed out your wit quota for the night,” Ascanio said.
“I’m just getting started.”
“Be careful, you might sprain something in your brain.”
“Quiet,” I growled.
I knew why Nick joined Hugh. The Order hated Roland. He was their public enemy number one. It made sense for him to go undercover with Roland’s warlord. If Hugh had turned him to his side, then there was nothing I could do. But if he hadn’t, imagining the things Nick had to have endured to survive his time with Hugh turned my stomach. It would’ve been hell for him. Somehow Nick had done it and I didn’t want to end his sacrifice here.
“Let’s try to keep him alive if we can,” I said. “If we have to kill him, we will, but only as a last resort. If we do kill him, it’s on my authority. You’ll bear no responsibility for it.”
Nick flexed, warming up.
I slid off Cuddles and unsheathed Slayer. We needed to know what we were up against. “Desandra, want to go knock on his door?”
“Oh yes.” She bared her teeth.
“He’s really fast. Don’t get killed. Just tap him enough for him to open up and show us what he’s got.” I glanced at Derek. “Back her up.”
Desandra stalked forward, pulling off her woolen gloves one finger at a time. Nick watched her.
“Remember me?” She took off her jacket and tossed her long blond braid back. “You shot me.”
He rolled his head from side to side, stretching his neck. Derek followed Desandra, hanging about twenty feet back.
Desandra lunged forward, as if for a kick. Her leg went forward, then back. She leaped and hammered a blur-fast cross-punch at Nick’s head. He dodged, just barely, and struck at the back of her head with his left hand. She blocked with her left arm. Nick turned and sank a vicious hook to her ribs, while she punched his jaw with a hard right. The blow knocked Nick back. He dropped and rolled to his feet. Desandra staggered back, favoring her left side. Cracked or broken ribs.
Nick shook his head. I’ve been punched by a shapeshifter before. Not fun.
They circled each other. Desandra closed in, arms up, hands open, and launched a low kick. Her foot connected to Nick’s leg. Just barely too high, or she would’ve taken out the knee. He staggered back, his arms up, and she pounded a flurry of punches at his guard. He ducked, taking it on his arms, and snapped a front kick with his injured leg right into her stomach. His foot had shot out like a hammer. There was no deflecting that. Desandra staggered back. Her clothes burst. Bone surged upward, tendons and muscle spiraled over it, dark skin sheathed the new body, and fur sprouted from the pores. A seven-foot-tall werewolf snapped savage teeth.
Two olive vines shot out of Nick’s chest, spiraling over his arms, and clamped Desandra, winding about her like twin whips.
What the hell was that?
I started forward. Robert and Ascanio followed me. An eerie giggle broke free from Ascanio.
“Not yet,” I told him.
Desandra flexed, trying to break free, but the vines gripped her. Flexible, about an inch thick and at least twenty feet long. I’d never seen anything like it.
Derek sprinted forward and grabbed the vines, raising his tomahawk to chop them. Thorns burst from the twin shoots, biting into Desandra’s and Derek’s skin.
Oh no you don’t. I sprinted.
Bloody thorn tips emerged from the back of Derek’s hand. The skin around the punctures turned gray. Poison. Shit.
Desandra screamed. Derek chopped the vines and tore his hand free. The ends of the vines snapped back to Nick. The vise of vines around Desandra cracked and dried in an instant, turning into hard wood.