Fallen (The Cure Chronicles Book 4) by K. A. Riley

Author:K. A. Riley [Riley, K. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

24

THE BOUT

I don’t exactly know what I’m expecting to see.

A slow dance, perhaps—the Duchess gliding around the fighting ring in her elegant evening gown, bare feet and all. The man called Maurice circling her like a carnivorous creature staring down its next meal.

There’s something so undignified about the concept of watching two Aristocrats murder each other in cold blood before this crowd of polished onlookers that the concept seems outlandish.

But when Maurice charges at the Duchess, ramming himself shoulder-first into her narrow, fragile-looking torso, it’s clear that he’s not even remotely concerned about dignity. He’s a ram charging its rival, not for simple dominance, but for his very survival.

The Duchess, caught off guard, tumbles backwards in an almost hilarious display of flailing limbs, hitting the ground hard and tearing her expensive dress in the process. With a strange, feral growl, she pushes herself to her feet, chin lowered, eyes locked on the man who just insulted her.

I stare at Maurice, whose hard features quickly shift from a look of pure determination to utter fear as he registers the look in his opponent’s eye.

“He should have killed her with the first blow,” I say under my breath.

To his credit, he was obeying orders—starting the fight with a hit that wouldn’t end the Duchess, but knock the wind out of her. But now, he’s simply weaponized her via an act of humiliation.

Nothing is more valuable to the Duchess than the projection of power, and Maurice just robbed her of it. There’s no way in hell she’ll let him do that to her again. The only questions are how quickly she’ll murder him…and if he has more tricks up his sleeve than simple brute force.

Because if that’s all he has, he’s as good as dead already.

As the Duchess steps slowly toward him, Maurice pulls something from his pocket. Not a gun—those aren’t allowed—but something small and silver. At first, I wonder if it’s a switchblade or some other kind of knife. But when the man slips a finger over it, some kind of armor slips over his entire body, a sort of translucent mesh that’s both glittery and fine, as if it’s made of little more than twinkling particles of air.

“An Aegis,” Finn whispers.

“Like yours?” I ask. Finn’s ability to create shimmer-walls and near-invisible shields is extraordinary, and until this moment, I’ve never seen anyone else do it.

“Yes,” Finn says. “But his isn’t internal. Someone has designed that device for him. He must have known what my mother might do to him.” He sounds impressed, though we both know the shield will do little against the Duchess’s incredible and horrifying gift.

The Duchess moves closer, pushing her mussed-up hair away from her face. Her chest is heaving, her eyes narrowed. I’ve seen her angry before. I’ve seen vindictive expressions on her face—and malice.

But I’ve never seen her this enraged.

She thrusts a hand out in front of her, hurling a fireball through the air that hits Maurice square in the chest, breaking through the Aegis in one intense explosion of heat and light.

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