Page 18 of The Darkest Hour

Here this woman worked by herself.

The final remaining guards ran her way and joined the fight.

She dodged and rolled—her agile body barely avoiding the guards’ bullets.

Maybe I should hire her to be my bodyguard, instead of killing her.

In the midst of the fighting, her mask lifted some, only revealing her dark brown skin, full mouth, and chin. A few long black dreads slipped out.

Beautiful.

She tugged the mask back down and whizzed off.

Damn it. Pay attention.

Once she was on the far side of the lobby, she turned and sprinted, rolling past one man and straight for a wounded man.

I aimed the gun and tried to hit her, but she was too damned fast.

Down on one knee and clutching his wound, a guard only had time to look up and curse before she stabbed a dagger in his eye.

Jesus! She’s a goddess.

She yanked it out as she passed, wincing at the eyeball lodged halfway up the jagged blade.

I shot at her.

She bounced away from the bullet, shook the eyeball off her dagger, and leaped into the air, disappearing back into the smoky shadows and flames rising in the destroyed lobby.

Who the fuck is she?

I stood there hypnotized.

Never in my life had I been so fucking turned on and scared at the same time.

My cock was stiff.

Even more dead bodies lay on the floor.

And my heart pounded in my chest like never before.

I almost didn’t want the guards to kill her. I could’ve studied her for days, but. . .there was that thing about her wanting to kill me.

Too bad. We could have had a fun weekend.

She reappeared to finish us off, this time charging from my right.

Okay. The show is over, sweetheart.

I shot and the gun clicked empty.

Damn it.

Fast, I got another gun and made sure it was loaded.

She leaped into the air and spun, her hand a blur as daggers flew for me.

I ducked, but the guys near me crossed their arms to block their faces.