The Dark City Chronicles ⁓ Book Three
The apocalypse looms ever closer! Steamy romance, heart-stopping action, seductive vampires, magic that defies nature, sprinkles of dark-humor, and, as always, the everlasting bonds of friendship.
Hannah's strug...
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Gunshots erupted from the front of the shop.
The crackle of magic igniting in the air was the fuse that had Lucas throwing caution to the wind. He cleared the space between them with angry stomps and clenched fists, readying himself to beat Sterling to death.
Sterling could hear his thoughts and knew this wouldn't end pretty for him, his gaze sharpening.
Lucas didn't feel empathy for the man or affection-nothing. He was probably a major asshole for that, but his heart was a desolate place that only beat for two people.
Sometimes, it beat a little harder, valiantly. For the others who had begun to become dear to him without realizing.
But Sterling wasn't one of those people. Once, maybe, Lucas had felt something for the man, more than cold indifference, but that time was over.
A fierce fight was happening past the bookcases, and Sterling was an obstacle for Lucas to overcome before he could knock some heads.
Sterling growled. "I've been waiting to kill you."
Magic danced over Lucas's skin, but he didn't let whatever spell Sterling was attempting. He threw a punch, knuckles cracking over Sterling's bruised cheek and sending the man stumbling, his shoulder hitting a nearby bookshelf.
The man was rushing him before he'd even caught his breath from the hit.
The knife that tried for a jab to Lucas's slow-rising stomach was stopped mere inches by seizing Sterling's wrist, which felt dwarfed by his fingers.
He'd fought Sterling a decade ago, many times, sparing and when the man had his fits of violence. He was quickly shown that Sterling might look the same, but he was no longer the same man. Sterling didn't need to hide and use a gun to pick off his enemies any longer. He was quick, trained, and knew exactly how to contend with their differing strengths, never staying still long enough for Lucas to grapple.
Not to mention, Sterling could read his mind and knew where every attack was coming before it occurred.
Getting a hit in was nearly impossible.
It'd been a long time since he'd fought someone trained. A sort of muscle memory took over. He felt dissociated from his body. He was an observer to his parries of the knife that kept trying to cut his neck and the animal snarls that he hardly registered were coming from his mouth.
The brutal kick he gave Sterling's thigh sent the man sprawling onto the floor with a hard thwack of his head against the planks.
Lucas was on Sterling before he could regain his footing. He had to sharpen his adrenaline and focus on not dying. When he kept trying to grab for the knife, it was twisted away and snatched by another hand that was too quick for him to subdue. Even on the ground, Sterling was putting up a savage fight, slashing and jabbing.
