Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Meridian
Meridian sheathed Whisper at the same time he pulled his chrome Wesson .45.
The air crackled with tension as the six of them, three couples, all skilled and fearless, squared off and circled each other like a pack of hungry hyenas. Their body language and eyes sent a silent promise of imminent danger as the fate of Woyashi’s life hung in the balance.
“This ends now,” the big one rumbled, moving to the other side of the room from his partner.
He and Ex fought on opposite sides of their attackers. One in the front, one in the back. A distraction by one and extraction from the other—unlike the Browns, who stayed joined together like fucking conjoined twins, yet somehow, they were proficient at close-quarter combat.
Their handler, Corvo, had shown them Grace and Mirage’s mission footage.
It was astonishing how Grace manipulated Mirage without facing him, keeping him shielded within a cloak of confusion to their opponents.
No sooner than Meridian was in position, Ex moved in for the big one, a second before Mirage reconnected to Grace’s back, his hands blurring from the speed at which he threw a series of ten-inch spikes under and over his arms.
From beneath his midnight hood, Meridian leveled his eye down the barrel of his .45 before he noticed a limber figure dart into action, coming in hot on his right, contorting his body into weird angles to dodge Mirage’s spikes flying toward him.
Meridian anticipated his attacker’s objective to rid him of his firearm. He ducked and took aim, fired two shots, but the man went even lower, slithering across the floor with the speed of a black mamba and releasing a flutter of kicks that struck Meridian’s forearm and wrist.
The bastard didn’t break them, but the hits were hard enough that the pain was too excruciating for him to hold his firearm.
The strikes were nothing short of surgical.
Meridian dropped his weapon but didn’t slow or waver as he yanked his dagger back out of its secret compartment to fend off the brute coming toward him.
His partner, Ex, came in from behind, gripped the man in a chokehold, and managed to deliver two hard blows to his ribcage, but the man flexed his back muscles in a way that minimized the damage and bucked his partner off.
In that short moment, Meridian knew he was fighting two masters.
Meridian
Beneath the master’s silken gold hood, he could only see the sharp bridge of his nose and the light traces of a honey-blond five-o’clock shadow surrounding full lips.
It wasn’t his facial features that made Meridian rethink his next moves. It was his opponent’s body, a honed lethal weapon.
The massive fighter wielded no knives, firearms, or swords. Every inch of him was capable of defending any form of attack and inflicting blows that could result in death.
“You don’t appear to be in a position to give commands.” The shadowed rogue moving like liquid mercury spoke from behind his black mask. “Is your target worth your lives?”
He had an appearance, a fight style, and a voice designed to inflict fear.
“It’s not our lives you should be concerned about,” Meridian rasped as another deadly dance unfolded.
It was four against two.
Fists slammed into flesh, knees connected with sickening crunches. Each of them seemed to be fighting not to kill but to inflict such agony that the other bowed out.
The four of them fought with all they had. He and Ex fought with calculated destruction, but each move seemed anticipated and was deflected.
Grace and Mirage were a symphony of power and speed, moving together in a mesmerizing ballet of violence, flowing seamlessly together.
Yet, the two masters weren’t even out of breath as they countered eighty percent of their offense.
The brute, with hands sharp as cougar claws, slashed and tore through their clothes and skin, while the other one moved fast, making precise strikes at pressure points that crippled their lower extremities before he disappeared.
The fight slowed, then came to a halt, but neither had conceded.
The one who moved with viper-like speed and reflexes stood close to his partner and spoke before Meridian could.
“If you choose this as your last sunrise, will your country mourn you, Ravens? Will you die with glory bestowed on your names for eternity?” He cocked his head to the side as if he were confused about why they were fighting so hard. “You’d die for a government that does not know you exist.”
The hulking warrior in the gold-and-black scarf was breathing evenly when he declared, “You are worthy adversaries, Ravens. But you kill men in their sleep while miles away. You act as gods and take the lives of men at your will. And because you lack honor”—he crouched and flexed his hands back into sharp claws—“your lifeless forms will not haunt my dreams tonight while I sleep peacefully in the arms of my cherished.”