Crimson Warrior (Onyx Assassins #3) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Onyx Assassins Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
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Letting him get away wasn’t an option.

Three breaths.

I spared Avi one glance, and her eyes flared, begging me not to—

I moved with the speed I’d been blessed with, shoving against Zorin and his guards with all the force I possessed. The shock had them stumbling over themselves, giving me enough time to draw the daggers I had sheathed at my thighs.

“Where in the hell did you get daggers?” Katya screamed from behind Avi who raced toward me.

“Forgive me,” I said, shoving Avi back with all my might. She flew across the room, much deeper into the chamber. She screamed as I sealed the door between us, a look of shock and anger covering her face.

But I couldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about anything beyond her safety. Beyond stopping the obvious threat to the crown as I turned to face four very pissed off male vampires.

“You stupid, ignorant bitch,” Zorin spat, regaining his balance. His eyes were livid as he surveyed the closed chamber door behind me. “No matter,” he said, flicking his fingers at his guards. “They’ll tear you to pieces and we’ll use your hand to open that door right back up. You should’ve spared yourself the pain.”

Good, he had no idea it would take four of my family members to open the chambers. And I sure as hell wouldn’t give him the time to figure it out.

I released a low growl, spinning my daggers in my hands. I wished I could’ve had my sword, but no that wasn’t easy enough to hide from my father who thought I was a fucking simpering lady-in-waiting.

“You don’t have a fucking clue who you’re dealing with,” I said, and let my fangs show. I gave the approaching guards a come-hither motion with a dagger.

One snorted at the motion, one growled, and the other seemed bored as hell. Fine, he could fall first, then. “If you submit to the Order, I will allow you to live out your days in prison,” I said the necessary words as the guards circled me. I adjusted my stance accordingly, just like Ransom had drilled into me for decades.

Ransom, fuck, had the call been a trap? Was he fighting his own battle?

Rage flared at the idea of my mate in any sort of danger, but I had to solve the problem at hand first. Save Avi, and stop Zorin from fleeing.

“You are not of the Order,” Zorin said. “No matter how much you pretend to be. You are nothing but a double for the princess, barely worth the annoyance you’re causing.”

I narrowed my gaze, not allowing his words to distract me from the guards closing in, circling me, herding me to put me at a disadvantage. Though, to be fair, four against one wasn’t exactly a cake-walk on a good night.

“Final warning,” I offered. “No one has to die here today.”

“Kill her,” Zorin said in answer, and the guards gave up on their slow approach, and pounced.

I dipped and rolled, dodging the arms of one, using my speed to race behind the bored one and slip my dagger into his back and upward. My blade found the heart easily. He didn’t even have time to scream. He fell in a heap on the ground, and the two remaining guards wore identical looks of shock.

“Next?” Adrenaline raced through my blood, no doubt pulsing down the bond like a beacon to Ransom. I hoped he had better odds than me, but I’d faced more skilled warriors than these before.

The one who’d laughed at me was no longer amused as he raced toward me. I dodged one punch, but the next cracked across my face like a hammer. My teeth sang from the hit, my vision wobbling for a few seconds before clearing. The air in my lungs heaved out of me as his fist barreled into my stomach, his other hand clamping around my throat in the stunned moment.

I drew my arm up, jerking my elbow so hard and fast he dropped his hold. Before he could retaliate, my dagger found a home in his right eye, the tip of the blade scraping the back of his skull, the sensation reverberating up my fingers.

His knees shook the ground he fell so hard, and I hopped over him to face the last remaining guard. “You’re dead,” he growled, wielding a small knife of his own.

I motioned for him to come and get me.

He didn’t disappoint. Faster than the other two, he was on me in a blink, too quick for me to dodge. I barely rolled out of the range of his knife, feeling it slice the air before my neck as I bent myself backward.

I kicked out, stumbling as my spine hit the hard ground, and I lost the upper hand. Goddamn him, he must be older. More skilled than the other two, certainly. He leaped out of the way of my kick, jerking that knife down over and over again, aiming for my heart. I sped out of each attempt, my breaths heaving, my body trembling with the fight instinct.


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