Soul Merchant (Isabella Hush Series Book 5) by Thea Atkinson

Author:Thea Atkinson [Atkinson, Thea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alchemist fantasy, assassin fantasy, fantasy and magic, dark urban fantasy, urban fantasy thriller
Publisher: Thea Atkinson
Published: 2020-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I HAD THOUGHT THE LEAKING of my soul, as Kerri had called it, liberated me from feeling anything uncomfortable, but seeing Maddox on his knees struck terror in my throat. I realized for the first time that even though he was a man accustomed to battle, and used to being seen as invincible, all of that had been centuries ago. He was rusty. He was out of shape. He'd been battling pathetic thieves and robbers and lost his skills.

I yelled something at the cage. I hoped it was encouraging and supportive and not just terrified, but even as I did, I realized I should have kept quiet. I was supposed to be gone. He'd paid for my freedom with his body. I held my breath, waiting, praying to whatever god would listen that he get up.

As though a god was listening, Maddox straightened up slowly. I watched as he lumbered toward the Witchborn and swung awkwardly for her face with a balled fist. She, like the jaguar before her, went to smoke before the strike landed. The jaguar behind her gained corporeality in the same heartbeat.

It leapt again, this time landing on his shoulders. Its head dropped, jaws wide open, and it bit down hard into the meat of his shoulder. Maddox's mouth opened in an involuntary scream but if it sounded, I didn't hear it over the cat calls and wolf whistles around me.

The Witchborn rushed Maddox's other side at the same moment. When he grabbed to yank the cat off, it went to smoke. The girl, however, solidified and struck him with an upper cut then blasted him again with magic.

The magic took him off his feet this time. He fell backward and landed with his shoulders smashing onto the glass floor. The wound in his shoulder splattered blood onto the floor and smeared over the glass.

The tension in my throat cut off a cry. In fact, I could barely force air down through it and into my lungs. I realized I was trembling. That my hands were balled against my mouth.

"That was a hard one," Kelly said thoughtfully. "Brava, Witchborn."

She said the last without emotion, and I couldn't help turning to watch her. She tipped an imaginary hat toward the Kennel and sent me a low-slung smile.

"You're nearly drained," she said. "But not so far that you can't feel for him. Or her. That might be useful if you wanted to do something to help."

I started to answer but the sound of glass shattering carried over the shouting and made me startle. I wouldn't look at the cage. I wouldn't.

"Goodbye, human," she said rubbing one hand over the other and stroking her thumb in a motion that drew my eye. "Try not to get killed too."

Kelly grinned at me in a way that didn't light her eyes or her expression. It was a cold movement of her mouth, as though she thought it was something she should do rather than because she felt any humor. Then

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