Free Touched With Sight by Nenia Campbell Page B

continued imperiously, “without mine. Whoever draws blood three times is the victor, who will then have the ability to stake blood claim over the other.”
    “ Blood magic is forbidden.”
    “ Then it should be right up your alley.”
    “ Fuck you. What kind of grievance could you possibly have against me?”
    She wasn't expecting an answer. Not a real one anyway. But he surprised her.
    “You compromised my mission, tarnishing my honor as a member of the Council. But more than that,” he took a step closer, “You wasted my time by making me chase you.”
    “ I didn't ask to be chased.”
    “ I was under the impression that passed for courtship among your kind.”
    No , she thought. “There's a difference between courtship and ownership. Between rough sex and rape. But you wouldn't understand that, would you? That's the thing about people like you. People with your…sickness. You know nothing of my kind, and yet you use it to make these bullshit apologist speeches, when really, the true savage—is you .”
    Catherine sucked in a breath. Her heart was beating so loudly she could barely hear.
    “You come into my house—my territory—and threaten my family, insult me and the people I care about. You brandish your power like a child with a toy, and expect me to fall into bed with you like I'm a cowering dog rolling over on its back. And you wonder why we hate witches.” She snorted. “You couldn't find your dick in the dark, you scheming, sleaze-mongering scumwad. But then, that's why you have a sword, isn't it?”
    He plunged his weapon into the floorboards, making her jump. “Choose. Your. Weapon.”
    She had pushed him to the very limits of sanity. Not that it was much of a distance.
    She grabbed the music stand she'd nearly knocked over earlier. She picked it up, testing the weight and feel of it in her hand. She could feel the green fire of the witch's gaze scorching her back as he watched her. She let her grip slacken a little. If she acted like an amateur, he might let down his guard. Predator was well schooled in drawing in the weak and unwary.
    Doubtful, though. The witch knew what she was capable of. She'd been showing off in the gully when she'd shoved the knife into his mouth. It was clear now that that had been a mistake on multiple levels. Probably, she shouldn't have kicked him halfway across the room, either.
    He moved closer, mirroring her steps with a litheness that reminded her of a jaguar on the prowl. She tightened her grip on the music stand, which she held out in front of her with both hands like a battle staff. Larger distances were dangerous, because it gave him a bigger attack radius. On the other hand, he'd do less damage to her body if she were farther away.
    “I'm going to enjoy this,” the witch said softly.
    A trickle of sweat raced down her back; it felt like ice. “Bring it.”
    He struck like lightning.
    Her only warning was a silver flash as the blade arced, catching the moonlight. She hopped to the side and parried him with the music stand. Sparks flew as the sharp blade sheared against the steel rod. One of the adjustment knobs came off. She heard it hit the floor and roll underneath the bookcase. Grunting, she took a step forward, and shoved him back.
    He used the momentum to come at her again with a sideways swing. “Karen told me you don't fight much.” She had to bow backwards to avoid the heavy-handed swing aimed for her abdomen, and felt the displaced air ripple her clothing. “It shows.”
    He's trying to provoke you. Don't fall for his tricks.
    If he was already resorting to petty insults, maybe his bag of tricks was nearing empty.
    Maybe , Predator mused. Maybe not.
      “ Does Karen always send you out to do her ba—attles?”
    “ Karen is dead.” An undecipherable expression flickered across his face, disappearing too soon for speculation. “Or will be soon, if she isn't already. She was captured by the same group of Slayers who got your…David.”
    His