Free Reckoning (The Watchers Book 5) by Verónica Wolff Page A

“Careful,” he taunted.
    Josh shoved me from behind just as Rob kicked again.
    I lost my balance and toppled.
    I was in the dirt and they were over me in an instant, Josh holding my shoulders, Brian and Rob each holding a leg.
    I tried to swallow to get some moisture in my suddenly dry mouth. I held very, very still. I wanted to fight them, but I also didn’t want them to find the misericordia tucked into my boot.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, but they weren’t listening. And I hadn’t needed to ask anyway. Rob had tried having his way with me before, and now he was directing the others to pin my shoulders, to hold an ankle. To move aside.
    “I see what this is about,” I said, trying to use my sultriest Hey, boys voice. “Why don’t you free my hands? You know, so I can have free range of movement.”
    It was worth a shot. I’d say anything to get my hands free.
    “We’re not that stupid,” Brian said.
    “Though I know you think we are,” Rob said. “You think you’re so smart. But who’s the one tied?”
    “Technically I’m bound, not tied, but whatever you say, Einstein.”
    His hand shot out before I could grit my teeth, smacking me hard upside my head. My ears started ringing and my mouth filled with the sharp taste of my own blood.
    I stilled for a second, just long enough to come to terms with the fact that I was not going down this way. Sure, I’d go down eventually in my life, but I’d go fighting.
    A hand slithering up my left thigh shocked me into action.
    Instinctively, I kicked. My foot connected with Brian’s chin. As he fell back, Rob had to readjust, twisting sideways to try to grab and still my legs. I kicked again, and my heel caught the soft part of Rob’s throat. The contact lit me like a lightning bolt, my every nerve igniting.
    “Hold her,” Brian shouted up at Josh.
    Flexing my arms against my restraints, I became a wild thing, my abs working overtime as my feet flailed, legs bucking and thrusting for whatever body part I could connect with.
    “I am,” Josh snarled. “You hold her. There are two of you.”
    What I really needed were my weapons, still tucked in my boot. I practically felt the misericordia pulsing at my calf. Beckoning. My hands were behind my back, grinding into the dirt, but if I could reach down low enough and scoot my heel high enough…
    If I could reach the blade, I’d be able to flick my wrist and slice through whatever Josh had tied me with. And then…and then the thought of what could happen next was enough to make me light-headed. I’d seen what the ancient blade had done to someone as powerful as Master Alrik Dagursson. What might it do to a few measly Trainees?
    I was dying to find out.
    I heard myself making crazy banshee noises as I pumped my legs out again and again like a piston, trying to propel Rob and Brian far enough from my feet to tuck my knees and snatch the blade from my boot.
    But I was outnumbered, and Rob and Brian worked together to snatch my ankles while Josh kept a death grip on my shoulders, and in a moment, both my feet were pinned.
    Rob grinned, briefly forgetting about his missing fang. “Gotcha.”
    I was still in the fight, though, writhing beneath them. I needed my weapons. I would have them.
    “Mediocrity,” I said, with a nod toward Brian.
    He gaped at me like he didn’t understand the word. “What?”
    “Mediocrity,” I repeated, trying desperately to modulate the frantic pitch of my voice. “The state of being mediocre. Or, you know, average. Because this”—I turned my ankle and twisted free of his grip, then swept my leg sideways in a crazy roundhouse kick that clocked him in his jaw—“this is what average gets you.”
    His chin jerked sideways and he stumbled backward, giving me just enough of a window to tuck my leg. Rob still had my other ankle pinned, and I strained against his hands, tucking myself as tightly as I could, tight enough to feel the individual tissues in my