Page 91 of White Hot Kiss
“Hey,” I called out. “What about me?”
Three of the Racks swung toward me, their mouths dropping open in a silent scream.
“No!” Roth yelled out.
They rushed me.
“Crap,” I muttered, heart tumbling over itself.
Muscles tightened in my stomach and legs as I tried to remember all of Zayne’s boring self-defense lessons. He used to preach about getting in the zone or something lame like that, anticipating the enemy’s next move. Which I was pretty sure involved one or more Rack demons eating my leg.
The first one reached me and instinct finally took over. I jumped back, twisting halfway as I kicked out, catching the Rack in the stomach. It went down on one knee. No time to celebrate that small victory.
Spinning around, I threw out my arm in a clean sweep, catching the next Rack demon in the throat. The frail bone crunched as it staggered back a step and then shot toward me. Throwing back my arm, I closed my hand and coldcocked the ugly bastard in its jaw.
The Rack demon went down, out cold like a mofo.
I looked up, meeting Roth’s stunned gaze. “What? I can throw a punch.”
Pride and something else filled his eyes—something like attraction churned in the tawny depths. As if seeing me punch a demon was tantamount to seeing me in a string bikini, and that was kind of weird. But then that look vanished and fear seeped in, expanding his pupils.
“Layla!”
Hot, wretched breath hissed along the side of my cheek.
Jerking around, I came face-to-face with a Rack demon. Making the ear-bleeding clicking noise, it shot toward me, reaching out with one clawed hand.
Oh, Hell to the no.
Spinning around, I started to dip like Zayne had taught me. I felt the Rack grab the open air above me. Darting under its arm, I started to bring my knee up, but the demon changed sides. Before the words “oh, crap” could form, pins and needles of pain exploded along my spine.
Fire sliced through my palms and my jeans tore along my knees as I hit the cold cement. A cry punched out a second before weight hit me once more. Throwing my head back, I ended up a second away from eating pavement.
Raw, unbridled panic clawed up my throat as the Rack got a handful of my hair and then grabbed the hand that bore Lilith’s ring.
And then it let go so fast that my head snapped forward. It flew through the air and hit something behind me—maybe a car? Flipping over, I saw Bambi streak across the pavement, hitting the Rack before it could regain its footing. I scanned the parking garage, seeing some piles of ash and some gross-looking gunk, but no more demons.
Roth knelt in front of me, grabbing my wrists. “What the Hell were you thinking, Layla?”
“What?” I tried to pull free, but he flipped my hands over, inspecting my scuffed palms. “I wasn’t just going to stand there. I know how to fight.”
His eyes narrowed on the pink skin and then flipped up to mine. “Who taught you all that? Stony the gargoyle?”
I made a face. “His name is Zayne, and yes.”
Roth shook his head as his thumb smoothed around my palms. “Watching you kick ass was incredibly hot—like really, really hot. But if you ever do anything like that again, I will throw you over my shoulders and spank your—”
“You finish that sentence and I’m going to introduce my knee to a certain part of your anatomy.”
His gaze dropped and he winced. “Okay. You win. I’ve seen your kicks.”
I started to respond, but Bambi slithered up and placed its horse-sized head on my shoulder. Every muscle in my body locked up and I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a puff of air, stirring the hair along my temple. Bambi’s forked tongue shot out, tickling the side of my neck.
“Hey, look, Bambi likes you.”
I pried one eye open. “And if she didn’t?”
“Oh, you’d know, ’cause she would’ve eaten you by now.”