Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1) by Robert III (great books for teens .txt) 📗

bit of trouble, hey?” He swung his fist into her body. Air exploded from her lungs. She gasped, trying to catch her breath. Bile filled her mouth. She was dizzy, her eyes watery. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

Bolt punched her again. She couldn’t move. She retched, coughing blood. He picked her up and tossed her to the side. She curled herself into a ball, trying to breathe. Trying to live.

“I tell you what, lass,” he panted. “You gave me a good round there, but it looks like you may be down for the count. Now I have to decide what to do with the body.”

Every bone and muscle screamed, but finally, her lungs filled with air. She glanced at him. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Blood streamed from his nose.

I did that much, at least.

The thought of running away was still in her mind. Then again, it wasn’t. She was past all that now. She wanted to change things. For her. She stood on wobbly knees and clenched her fists. Her hand-to-hand combat training breathing life into her weak muscles.

He stood, flexed his hands, and spat blood on the floor. So did she. He swung first. She dropped to a crouch and swung hard into his groin. He yelped. She pulled and swung at his face. The metal knuckles dug troughs through his skin. Blood gushed across his face. She swung again, connected, and he tripped backward, landing with a thud. His eyes went wide. He muttered something, rolled himself up and charged. She crumpled under his power, and they crashed to the floor. He pushed himself up and swung into her. Her arms came up, guarding her face. His fists hammered into her arms and head, every blow making her weaker.

Her hands and arms softened until they were useless. He stopped and stood over her. The world blurred in front of her eyes. He stepped away and turned his head to the firebox. He spat and pulled on her leg. Words dribbled from her lips, her head bouncing along the rough metal floor.

He yanked, and heat rushed over her. She covered her face. He grabbed her, lifted her up. He shouted something. Heat flared. She mumbled and squeezed her eyes shut.

And then she fell. Flames tangled in the air. Her body melted. Strong hands grabbed her, but different this time. Careful, gentle, powerful.

Blood bubbled from her lips as she was carried away from the flames. Bolt’s body lay face down, the back of his head torn apart. She looked up.

It was her.

“You’ll thank me later,” Fang said.

Chapter 32

Lower engine platforms

Dawn’s Edge

Fang carried Coyle down a hallway and into a large office. She lay Coyle on the floor and fashioned a coat for a pillow. Then she closed the blinds and peeked outside.

Coyle’s breathing was loose and shallow. Fang pressed two fingers into the hollow beside the trachea. Her vitals were very good considering the trauma she had fought through. But at a glance, Coyle was also an absolute mess. Her left eye was bruised, almost swollen shut. There were small cuts to her upper lip. Drying blood streaked one side of her face.

Fang had arrived just as Bolt was about to toss her into the fires. She used her cable baton, pierced the back of his head, and pulled his brains out. She had no qualms taking a life, especially when necessary. Coyle, on the other hand...

A dark bruise ran down Coyle’s neck. Fang debated cutting through Coyle’s leathers. It would be quicker, of course, but the material was made by Treece and would most likely deflect the edge of a blade. As it was, her uniform was covered in scratches. It had held together despite the bony claws of the Turned.

She pulled the straps apart and found smaller, less threatening contusions. She also noticed the long, jagged, pink scar near her collarbones. She pulled away the leathers and followed the scar down to just below her navel. It was old.

She tilted her head back and thought. The injury was precise, straight—a scalpel’s blade. Typically incised for the purpose of forensic science, something Fang had learned through her training with combat medicine. Had someone mistaken Coyle for dead, and then she’d come back to life? No, she had been left for dead. That meant someone had done this purposely. Someone had cut her open. But who?

Her eyes were studying the ceiling when the idea flashed into her mind. She’d seen wounds like this before. She’d read the reports, in fact, and was just about to be put on a mission to find him.

The Ripper.

So this was why Coyle wanted to become a detective. She’d been attacked by him. But that didn’t make sense either. He never left his victims alive. What motive would he have to not kill Coyle? Did they know each other?

“What is it?”

“Not now, Embeth.”

“But what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Embeth. Just trying to think.”

Embeth gasped.

“What happened to her?”

“She’ll be fine. It’s just some bruises. A few cuts...”

“Is she hurt?”

“Yes, but not bad. She’ll be fine.” Fang pulled out her medical kit and retrieved gauze and alcohol.

“It looks like someone sewed her all up. Was she broken?”

“Some of us are, Embeth,” Fang answered without thinking.

Embeth frowned. “Am I too?”

Fang brushed Embeth’s bangs out of her eyes.

“No. Not you. You’re perfect.”

“How about her?”

They looked down at Coyle. Her chest rose and fell. Gloved hands rested by her hips. Pink, bleeding lips mumbled incoherent words.

“Where did she get that...” Embeth’s finger dragged down her own chest.

“Scar. She has a scar.”

“Where did she get that scar? “

“Someone hurt her. A long time ago.”

“Who? Who hurt her?”

“Someone... stronger. More dangerous.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“I think so.”

“Maybe your friend needs help finding them.”

“Yes. I think she does.”

“She’s waking up.”

Chapter 33

Lower engine platforms

Manager’s office

Dawn’s Edge

Coyle moaned and shifted on the floor. With a start, she cried out and grabbed her chest, panting. Pain tore through her body. Her insides were on