Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) (4 page)

“I came in with Mina, sir. You didn’t see me?”

“I am getting you a bell,” Mina said. “A bell and some flashing lights.”

“With all due respect, madam, you’re not my boss. Angrod is.”

They looked at me.

“What? I just live here.”

“What I meant to say, sir, was that you shouldn’t go alone. I should accompany you in secret.”

“How are you going to do that?”

In response, Dagonet began to sweat. The sweat beaded on her skin. The droplets merged and became a clear film. It flowed over her clothes and began to bend the light. Dagonet disappeared. My pretty redhead assistant had turned invisible.

“This explains a lot,” Mina said.

“I rarely do this. I walk softly, speak little, and don’t fidget much. Most people aren’t too observant.”

“So you’ve never used a veil in my presence?” I asked.

Dagonet shook her head. The movement was barely visible. “As you can see, or not, I have some small skill at going undetected. I would like to go with you and continue serving as your aide.”

“That would be useful,” Mina said. “And I’d feel better knowing Angrod was with someone competent.”

I swallowed my pride and went on. “It’s never come up before, but I have to ask: Are you any good in a fight?”

“Do I need to be?”

I felt something cold on my neck. I saw that Dagonet was holding my own letter opener against my throat.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Mina said.

“I am inclined to agree.”

“Scared to shake your head?”

“Yep.”

CHAPTER
4
:
MEERWEN

It was a dark and stormy night. The perfect night for evildoers.

Perched on the spire of an ancient church, I surveyed the city below me. The rain fell in torrents. I shrugged it off. The water was freezing, but clean. That was something to be glad about when the streets overflowed with filth. The gutters and canals had scabbed over with ice and now they choked on snow and floodwater. It was waist-high in places, foaming with rat droppings and worse. The city wasn’t always a sewer, but when it was, all the vermin came out.

A gust of wind kicked through the streets, rattling the street lamps and agitating their flames. The wind rushed over the rooftops and buffeted me where I crouched. My cape flung behind me. The wind did one more thing: It brought the sound of screaming.

Time to move. I leaped. Landed on a rooftop and kept going, running toward the screams. They echoed from deep in the old quarter. I ran. Rolled. Leaped. Used magic to extend my jumps so I glided over alleyways and streets. There! I dove into space, somersaulted, and landed in the filthy alley. My cape fell around me and it flowed as I rose to my feet.

“Oh shit, oh shit, it’s her!”

I tossed back my sodden hair and took in the scene. Seven of my fellow elves had cornered a halfling woman. She cowered against the wall, thin arms covering her breasts. The tallest man clutched a piece of her dress.

“Step away from that woman. You—all of you—are under arrest!”

“Is that the vigilante bitch?” The tall elf was handsome, in a knifelike way.

“That’s her, Rimethil,” said the youngest boy. They were kids. Well-dressed, therefore rich. Therefore spoiled. Drunk, and indulging their foul appetites in the poorest part of town.

“What’s a matter, Rimethil?” I said. “Can’t get women on your own?’

He scowled. His face was a little long, so he wore his blonde hair in a mane. “I won’t be insulted by some leathered-up whore. If you like, you can join this halfling bitch.”

“I don’t think you understand. It is my duty to take you into custody.” I pulled out several teflar handcuffs and threw them at the ground. “I’d appreciate if you put these on. Come quietly or there will be trouble.”

They laughed.

“Let me tell you something, cunt. We’ve heard about you. We thought you might try to interrupt our fun.” Weapons appeared from belts and jacket pockets. A switchblade went snikt. A collapsible baton went clack. “We came prepared, see? Get her!”

Five men charged. Time slowed.

I leaped to the left, snapping out a side kick that caught one in the knee. He fell screaming. Amateurs. They should’ve tried to surround me first. Pampered princes taught to fight by private tutors. No idea how to move as a team.

I showed them the error of their ways. The guy with the messed-up knee was getting up when I punched him in the jaw. I recovered and backhanded him with the same fist. He fell and I hooked a kick into the next guy’s ribs. I stepped in and got another guy in the low back—I caught him by the hair and kneed him twice in the face. The baton came in and got me behind the knee. I fell down and the last man picked me up and threw me into the wall.

Fireworks in my head. Pain down my back, which I shrugged off like the rain. I caught myself before I folded completely and I looked at my opponent. The last elf was huge. Northlander-sized. He must’ve spent a lot of time in the gym because from neck down he was a slab of muscle. He raised his massive hands and came at me. I flicked my cape at his face. It stunned him—those were the lead weights sewn into the edge. I pushed off the wall and pistoned a kick at his midsection. He stumbled back and I whipped my cape at his eyes. It didn’t hit him, but it kept him from seeing the spinning back kick that caught him in the belt buckle and hurled him into the far wall.

The one with the baton swung at my head. I raised my right and caught it on the bracer. He was fast—the steel came in again and again, flashing against the steel of my arm protectors. I lashed out, hammer blows, short but powerful. I grabbed his weapon arm and clubbed him in the forearm and bicep. I hit him in the collarbone and grabbed his shoulders. Butted him in the head.

The big guy came at me. I took him by the hand and introduced him to the wall. He hit headfirst, all the force of his charge focused on a single point on his skull. The impact cracked the ultra-hard glass coating. It threw up dust and bits of concrete. The bruiser slumped to the ground, trailing bits of scalp on the wall. The baton hit me in the elbow. I lashed my hand out and grabbed the wielder by the wrist. I introduced him to my other elbow and broke his jaw. I had barely caught my breath when arms closed around my leg and someone punched me in the mouth.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Rimethil said. “Do the bitch!”

I shook my head. The guy whose knee I’d kicked was holding onto my leg. I raised my other leg and stomped his head into the pavement. He screamed as he lost his front teeth. I reached down and tore off an ear. While he was screaming I threw him at the boxer.

Someone grabbed my cape. Mistake. I fell to one knee and the safety clasps gave way. I spun around and saw it was the guy with the switchblade. “Hyah! Hyah!” He swung my own cape at me. I ducked and came in punching but he slashed and caught me in the ribs. Didn’t cut through the mail, but he did crack the breastplate.

“Son of a bitch!” I said. “Do you know how much boiled leather costs?”

I caught my cape and threw it over his head. I leaped, bringing my elbow straight down. I smashed it into his skull and his knife clattered to the ground. His head was a different shape when I let him fall. Now it was me and the boxer.

He wasn’t the tallest or the biggest, but he looked plenty strong. His stance told me he was a veteran fighter. His leather gloves told me he meant business. They had a padded look around the knuckles.

“Sap gloves?” I asked.

“Yep.”

Damn. You could punch through a wall with gloves like that. The lead powder protected his fists and added weight to his blows. Mine were lined with reactive mail but his were almost as good. He jabbed—fast—and I barely dodged. He came in with a looping right cross and I moved to duck.

Something exploded in my midsection. He’d feinted and landed an uppercut that nearly lifted me off my feet. He grabbed me and went for a knee in the crotch but I twisted and took it on the thigh. I had to get out of this. He went for another uppercut and I took it on the arm. I grabbed his collar and head-butted him in the chest. Not the best target, but he backed off.

“You’re pretty good,” he said.

“You’re not.” I burst out of a crouch and nailed him in the stomach. Knocked the wind out of him. He lashed out and got some distance between us. “Nice gloves,” he said. “But I have something you don’t.”

“What’s that?” I asked, and something bit my ankle.

“Friends in low places.”

I looked down and it was the one-eared guy. He was still in the fight! I shook free, but it was enough for the boxer to hit me in the temple. The lights exploded and almost blacked out. I fought to keep from losing consciousness. I’d wake up in a bad place—if I ever woke up at all. I got my arms up in time to catch most of the blows. I deflected them as best I could but still took a pounding around my shoulders. I kept going. I fell to one knee and tackled him around the leg. There was a snap as the leg bent backward.

“Aaah! Aaaugh!”

“You’re young. You’ll walk again.”

The one-eared guy crawled toward me, spitting curses and teeth. He grabbed for my leg but I bent down and caught him by the mouth. My fingers dug into the bed of his tongue. I looked him in the eye—I had his attention.

“You’re brave. But it won’t take much to rip off your jaw. You’re also on the ground, and I am wearing steel-toed boots. Do you understand me?”

He nodded as best he could.

“Good boy. Stay down.”

I retrieved my cape. It was more red than green but I put it on. I turned to face Rimethil. He held a stiletto to the girl’s throat. She was shivering.

“Back up!” he said. “Back up or I kill her!”

I held up my hands. “Easy.”

“Not one step closer!”