I didn’t bother to hide my fear and disgust. I let them see what they wanted to see as my fingers closed around my dagger.
In one violent motion, I tore the knife from its sheath and sank it into Gorm’s meaty thigh. A guttural roar ripped from his throat, but I quickly withdrew the blade and plunged it in again.
He reeled back in pain, releasing his grip, and my left hand found another dagger.
Before the others could react, I wheeled around to faceGorm and thrust my bloodied dagger into the patch of flesh between his neck and shoulder. The other I shoved between his ribs, twisting until his howl of agony echoed off the surrounding buildings.
The half-ogre was a sight to behold –– nearly twice as wide as a normal man with forearms the size of my thighs. Greenish skin stretched over a filthy bald head and a face that was twisted in pain.
For an instant, I allowed myself to bask in his anguish as Gorm’s dirt-colored eyes went hazy. Muddy brown blood seeped from his wounds, and I heard the others advance.
Tugging my daggers free in a spray of blood, I pivoted to face them. The red-skinned one — half-troll, I guessed — wielded a battle axe. The pierced reptilian male held a wicked-looking curved blade in each webbed hand.
Sheathing the daggers, I drew my short swords and shifted to keep the alley wall at my back. The battle axe looked unwieldy, but the curved blades could pose a challenge.
As I’d expected, the half-troll advanced, swinging the axe wildly. I slipped to the side and heard the vicious clang of metal on brick as the blade struck the wall behind me.
I pivoted and brought one sword down, striking the half-troll across the back. He grunted but didn’t collapse, which shouldn’t have surprised me. Trolls were notoriously difficult to kill.
I didn’t have time to strike again before the reptilian male attacked. I caught the flash of blades out of the corner of my eye and turned to deflect the hit.
I blocked the first blade, but he was too fast. His other blade sliced across my arm, stinging as it drew blood.
The scuff of footsteps took my attention, and Inarrowly dodged another swing of the battle axe before Gorm rejoined the fray. I aimed a kick at his chest that sent him careening into a dumpster. The half-troll swung again.
This time, I had to twist so ungracefully to avoid his axe that I stumbled into a broken wood pallet. I felt the cost of that blunder instantly as a curved blade caught me in the side, slicing clean through my leathers.
White-hot pain erupted from my ribs, and blood soaked my tank top. I knew this wound was deeper than the last, but I couldn’t worry about that now. I needed to end the fight.
Crossing blades with the reptilian male, I drove him back across the alley without a single ounce of remorse. I moved faster than I ever had in my life, sending one of his wicked blades skittering into the shadows.
My arms burned with the effort of the fight, and I could tell from the spread of wet heat along my ribs that I was losing a lot of blood. Cold fear seeped into my bones as the other two rallied, but I shoved it aside and tried to focus through the pain in my ribs.
The reptilian male was skilled with two blades, but with one, he was lethal. I took more risks than I normally would in an effort to end the fight and sustained two more lacerations in the process.
I sensed the other two advancing at my back. If my plan didn’t work, the only way I was leaving this alley was in ribbons.
I feigned left, and the twitch of my opponent’s shoulder told me he’d bought my fake. Summoning all my hunter strength, I whipped my sword around and plunged it into his chest, shoving harder when I met resistance until I broke through bone.
Thick brown blood oozed from the wound, but I didn’t have time to yank my blade out. I saw the shadow of the half-troll’s axe along the brick wall in front of me and jerked to the side.
The blade missed me, but part of the handle came down on my shoulder as I twisted away. Pain lanced through my clavicle as I reached for my daggers, tossing one at the axe wielder. He grunted as my knife sank into his chest, though I knew it wasn’t a lethal wound.
Then Gorm advanced with a pair of long knives, and my heart sank. My muscles ached, my body was spent, and I’d lost too much blood.
Gorm’s yellow eyes glinted with anticipation, and I knew from the look on his face that he wouldn’t give me a clean death.
My dread redoubled as the half-troll yanked my blade from his chest and tossed it to the ground. My hands trembled as I drew two more daggers, retreating with my back to the wall.
These two were built like mountains. My puny blades were practically useless.
Raw terror clawed its way up my chest, making it impossible to think. My hands tingled — probably from blood loss — and I clenched my fists to restore feeling.
It didn’t help. The tingling was spreading up my arms and through my chest. Not numbness, I realized. Power.
As Gorm approached, I raised my daggers, and time seemed to slow. He lunged. I dodged, though the movement was much too sluggish.
Somewhere inside me, I felt a swell of release as that power whooshed out of me. Isawit collide with my attackers — a wall of solid energy.
