The Den of Shadows Quartet - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [92]
So this is the brother, she found herself thinking. She remembered how Nissa and Christopher had clammed up when she had tried to inquire about Christopher’s twin. Would have been nice to know before stumbling in here.
Too late — she had hesitated for that vital instant and now Nikolas had the advantage. He grabbed both her wrists with one of his hands and held them against the wall, careful to avoid the spring-loaded knife she was wearing on her left arm. He stood to her side, carefully out of kicking range.
Sarah was concentrating, preparing to strike him with her mind, when his free hand came from nowhere and hit her.
“Don’t try it, Sarah.” His voice was similar to Christopher’s — a slight southern accent, so like the one she had come to trust.
She pulled her mind away from Nikolas’s family — he was a threat, and that was all that mattered.
Yet he wasn’t doing anything threatening at the moment. Instead, he was regarding her with curiosity “Sarah Vida, I presume?” he inquired, voice civil.
“Making sure introductions are out of the way before we fight?” she asked flippantly.
“I’ll admit I’m flattered to have such a prestigious hunter track me down,” he answered calmly, “but I haven’t the faintest idea how to deal with you.”
That threw her off guard. So far as she knew, there was only one way vampires “dealt with” hunters who entered their lairs.
“Want to hear my suggestions?” she asked, voice light, the words a cover as she started to raise power again.
He raised one eyebrow. “I don’t think we’re —” He broke off and hit her again, the blow making her head spin. “I said not to try it.”
So he could feel her building power; that much was obvious. She would simply have to wait for a chance when he was distracted, which meant she might need to wait for him to bite her.
“If you’re going to kill me, go ahead. If you’re waiting for me to scream or beg, your expectations are way off.”
“Your control is really that good?” She heard in his voice that he had taken her words as a challenge.
It was a challenge she knew she could win. He could break her neck easily if he wanted to, but if he wanted to hear her scream, he would have to hurt her. Badly. That would take time, and time would give her a chance to escape. “Yes, it is.”
Nikolas pulled a knife from his pocket: an ivory-handled jackknife with a rose inlay made of black stone. Opening it, he pressed it against her left wrist, just hard enough for her to feel the sharpness of the blade against her skin.
“If that’s supposed to be a threat, it won’t work,” she informed him as he glanced to her face as if to gauge her expression. “A cut there would bleed out quickly. If you mean to feed on me, you won’t waste so much blood.”
“And if I just mean to kill you?” he inquired.
You would have done so already,” she answered, her voice calm despite her uncertainty.
You sure you won’t beg?” he asked, offering her one last chance to avoid pain.
“Quite sure.”
Still holding her wrists with his right hand, he held the knife in his left hand, and pressed the blade into her shoulder — one sharp cut, about an inch in length.
Her muscle twitched as the knife cut through it, but Sarah refused to let pain show on her face. She used her training in order to not react, since he was looking for a response. She could take a lot of damage and heal from it. Sooner or later, he would slip up, and then he would be dead.
He pulled the knife upward, this cut at a slight angle to the last one, and then down again, as if making a Z.
Or an N.
The next cut was just beside the last line of the first letter, a half-inch line, and the next was a line parallel to the second letter. She knew what he was writing, and sighed, realizing this could be a long night. Two more short lines followed the most recent, making a K, and then a rough, squared-off circle.
Nikolas.
If it scarred, she was going to be really annoyed.
“Is your control really this good, or are you a secret masochist?” Nikolas asked as he cut the