Torn (A Wicked Trilogy Book 2) by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page A

fae who’d come through the gate with the prince. He was tall and broad, with the same deep olive skin tone. His dark hair was buzzed close to the skull. He had no weapons in his hands, but I’d seen an ancient manifest a gun out of thin air before.
    He was kind of dressed like a badass biker, wearing a dark shirt and leather pants, and Ren took one look at him and laughed. He actually laughed as he stood there, shirtless, his pants zipped but unbuttoned. “Oh, you just busted into the wrong house,” he growled.
    The knight’s response was a tight-lipped smile, and then he strode forward, chin dipped down. There was no time to question why the knight was at my place. Fae didn’t typically seek Order members out. We were the hunters, not the hunted.
    Ren was in front of me, becoming a living, breathing obstacle, and while I appreciated his protective nature, I could hold my own. My fingers tightened on the handle of the dagger as Ren brandished the thorn stake.
    The knight took a swing with his meaty fist, but Ren was wicked fast. He dipped under the knight’s outstretched arm and sprung up behind him. Planting one leg, he spun halfway, landing a brutal kick in the back of the knight.
    Stumbling forward a step, the knight easily caught himself and pivoted around. Taking the advantage, I sprang forward as Ren swiped the business end of the stake at the knight’s throat. That was the only way to take down an ancient. The head had to come off, and I was really hoping and praying it wouldn’t be messy.
    The knight sidestepped Ren’s throat-jab, then lifted a hand in my direction. He didn’t touch me, didn’t come anywhere close to me. All he did was lift his hand, and suddenly my sock-covered feet were slipping backward across the hardwood floors. I hit the wall.
    “What the hell?” I yelled, my eyes wide, staring at the knight.
    Ren swung out with his other fist, landing a blow on the fae’s jaw. The knight turned his cheek and laughed. “That was funny?” muttered Ren. He flipped the stake, then lunged forward, slamming it into the knight’s chest. The knight grunted as Ren dragged it in a downward motion that would not end pretty.
    “Whatever,” the knight replied, and then swung out with one arm, backhanding Ren across the face and knocking him aside. Ren crashed into the end table. The lamp fell to the floor, shattering into several large shards.
    Oh hell to the no, he did not just hit Ren.
    Seeing red, I pushed off the wall and launched myself forward as Ren got back up and kicked out, catching the ancient in the knee. The knight went down on one leg just as I reached him. I grabbed him by the top of his head and jerked his head back, my arm arcing—
    The knight flung his hand out, and a second later, I was scooting across the room, bumping into a plant stand. The fern went over, spilling dirt all over the floor. This time I ended up over by the balcony doors.
    “What the hell!” I shouted again.
    Ren sprang forward, swinging out, but the knight dodged the attack. He caught Ren’s arm and spun him around, drawing his back to the knight’s chest. I pushed away from the doors, racing across the small distance. Shoving the dagger into the knight’s back, I yanked the blade out as I was then thrown across the floor once more, back toward the bedroom as the knight let go of Ren.
    A cold, harsh reality set in as I caught myself by grabbing the doorframe. The knight was purposely keeping me out of the fight while going toe to toe with Ren.
    Ren caught the knight by the shoulder with one hand and lifted his leg, thrusting his knee into the fae’s gut. The knight exhaled roughly as he shoved Ren back into my chair. The little footstool Tink used went flying.
    Then they were going at each other, fists flying, with a lot of dodging and dipping. I shot forward again, this time determined to not get shoved aside like a piece of clothing. I was a foot away when movement to my right caught my attention.
    Tink