I hope you enjoy this short excerpt from Rising Moon: Book Two of the Hells Gate Series, FREE on Amazon until November 2.
There was no mistaking the mountain of a man, even with his back to her she knew it was Holt. Unraveling muslin from his blade, Jet had moments left before he took the prize she had won, but wasn’t willing to lose.
As carefully as she could, and with no sound, she settled the teapot and saucer on the floor, and crouched low. There was no telling what he might do if she startled him, and she had no desire to be stabbed by the dagger tonight.
The power of the Goddess still pulsed through her veins, as did the energy of her three sisters. This Fae picked the wrong night to test her abilities. Conjuring a wind as sudden as a tornado she whipped the dagger from the fabric and flicked it to the opposite side of the room.
“One ass kicking not enough, Fae?” Still in a crouched position when he turned, she taunted him.
“Not at all, little witch, tonight I’m going to even up the score.” He cocked his head to one side and smile.
Seriously not good for the concentration when he looked to be the perfect treat she’d failed to find in the pantry.
His smile widened to a grin. “Don’t take on more than you can handle, witch,” he warned as he began circling her, closing the distance to one she wasn’t comfortable with.
She too circled, trying to maintain her space and keeping far enough from his reach. “Come any closer and I can’t tell you how much pleasure it’d give me to knock you on your ass—” it was her turn to cock her head and grin, “again.” One more step and she planned to turn the wind up a notch. She just hoped her house was sturdy enough to handle nature’s force.
He surprised her as he lunged sideways and grasp hold of the dagger, which had landed on the floor beside the couch only a short distance from where she stood. Jet stooped low and lifted her hands to raise the wind once more. Holt dived toward her as she conjured a gale, jerking the blade from his grasp. His sudden movement, and the power of her own creation saw her lose control of the direction in which the dagger was flung. Sucked into the vortex and spat back out it sliced her arm, inches below her shoulder.
Fury overpowered pain. “You’re screwed now, Fae.” She spat her words like venom pulsing from a rattlesnake.
Holt tipped his head back and laughed. “No, witch, you’re the one who’s screwed.” He nodded to the gash causing blood to spill down her arm to her elbow.