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I would not be able to talk my way out of this, and even if I did, it still left Fin down there in danger, without backup.

I released the belt and stood up, cursing the entire time. “Tell me what to do. Believe it or not, I’ve never jumped out of a helicopter before.”

He pressed some buttons and then climbed out of his seat. I protested, but he grabbed a harness and motioned at me to climb into it. Once he buckled me in, he strapped it to a line on the door of the helicopter.

“Just go down. Use this.” He wrapped my fingers around a control switch. “When you get to the bottom, just unsnap yourself and I’ll go land.”

He didn’t bother asking me to wait for him to return. We both knew I wouldn’t listen, anyway.

I stood on the edge of the helicopter and stared at the dark ground below. Shit. I huffed out a few exhales, trying to focus on not puking, and then let myself fall back over the lip of the door. The line held. I didn’t budge until I squeezed the control and descended slowly.

As long as I didn’t look down, I would be okay. That was the mantra I clung to until my boots hit the soft pine needle strewn forest floor. My still healing body screamed in protest at all the ways I’d tensed on my descent.

I let the line go and covered my ears while the captain pulled up and away from me.

Behind me, a voice in the dark spoke. “Zoey, my dear, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Hands clamped around my shoulders and arms. I crouched, drew my knives, and slashed backwa

rds, across any thigh within reaching distance.

Blood spurted around me. The screams of the men echoed in my ears as they fell. I didn’t know how many. They toppled over each other, heaped around me.

I spun around. “Anyone else want to touch me without my permission?”

Another goon stepped up and balanced on either foot like we were about to throw down.

I waved my knife at him. “You know, I’m recovering from an injury. Do you think you can come to me, make it a little easier for me?”

The goon side-stepped his fallen brethren and charged at me.

I twisted out of the way, setting a flame of pain up my ribs. He doubled back, and I parried his knife thrust with my blade.

“You fucking suck. Is it too much to ask you to die in peace?” He swiped out with another knife.

I plunged my blade into the space between his neck and shoulders.

His crumpled, and I pulled my knife free from him. I stepped over the heap of fallen men and faced the voice I’d heard in the dark.

“Come out, come out,” I called.

Esteban exited the edge of the forest, dressed in a gray suit and black button down.

“You do make for a good show, little one,” he said.

I tightened my grip on the blades and pointed one toward his chest. “Stop where you are. No closer.”

To my surprise, he actually halted. He took up a relaxed stance, hands clasped in front of him. No weapons in sight.

A beefy mage who had to be related to the one I’d faced the night before came running from the shadows. He tackled me to the ground. My back hit hard. One of my knives spun away into the pine needles. He launched a fist toward my face.

I blocked him with my forearm and then used the other knife to jam it straight up under his rubs. He shuddered above me and then slid off to the side. Adrenaline pumped through me, and my hands shook as I rolled over to get up.

Once I’d retrieved my knife, I lumbered all the way upright, cursing Fin, Esteban, and the captain.

Anytime, you dick, I thought toward the captain.


Tags: Amelia Shaw The Rover Fantasy