Arena Shifters (A Paranormal Romance Novel) by Casey Evans Read Free Book Online

find their comrades. Problem was,
they were going right straight towards them and in about 60 seconds they’d be
upon her.
    On sudden inspiration she
grabbed a rock and hurled it through the trees and away from where they were
lying. Unfortunately it hit a branch not 5 feet in front of them and fell down
just a few feet from her. She couldn’t see them but she could hear their
approaching footsteps. She didn’t dare rise up and look to see how far away
they were. They’d spot her for sure. Instead she gripped her sword in one hand,
while the other still clutched the boy’s tunic. She looked over at him. He was
staring at her, terrified. She tried to give her a comforting look but it
didn’t work. It also didn’t help that at that very instant one of the slaves
jumped down from the ledge they were hiding under. The fight was on!
    Letting go of the boy’s tunic
she lunged forward, slashing at the man’s unprotected knees. Had the man
actually thought she would crawl out of their burrow first and maybe announce
herself before attacking? She was like a trapped scorpion in a cage. Get too
close and her tail was going to lash out and sting you. The stung slave buckled
at the knees, both hands going to the ground to break his fall. That garnered
him a second sting, this time to both arms. Her blade glanced off his protected
sword arm and sliced into his unprotected left arm. That’ll teach him to wear
greaves on only one arm. The man’s face hit the mud just as Petronia was
bounding out of their lair. The surprise was lost; the other man would be
prepared. No way was she going to sit there while he figured a way to smoke her
out of the fox hole. She dove out and rolled in a summersault coming up on both
feet, right in front of the other slave. Almost before she could bring her
sword up, he was slashing at her neck. The deflected blade nearly scalped her.
She wasn’t quite fast enough for his back slash and she received a nasty cut
across her right shoulder. She didn’t even feel the pain of it at first. She
just felt her warm sticky blood sluicing down her arm. That was going to make
holding onto her blade tricky.
    The man began to press his
advantage. He was strong and her sword arm was taking a beating as she blocked
each strike with the thick blade of the other slave’s short sword. A lesser
weapon would have shattered by now. She may have youth on her side, but the man
was strong and persistent. There was only one way this fight was going to go.
She was going to get too tired and make a mistake that would cost her, her life
and that of the boy’s unless she thought of something quick.
    The slave’s next slash just
about knocked the weapon from her hand, so she ducked under the next strike to
give her time to switch the sword to her left hand. As she narrowly sidestepped
a kick aimed at her chest to knock her down she realized she was afraid. An odd
feeling for an experienced gladiatrix; but it was there, the feeling of fear.
    Suddenly an object struck the
slave in the face, bouncing off and rolling between Petronia’s outstretched
feet. Someone…no, the boy, had thrown a rock at the slave. It took him maybe
too seconds to recover from the unexpected blow, and it was one second too
long. Petronia immediately thrust her blade straight into the man’s chest,
right where the ribs connect to the bottom of the sternum. A straight thrust
right there would sever the aorta and death would be nearly instantaneous. The
man looked down at Petronia for a second, not seeming to understood what had
just happened. He was dead from internal bleeding before he had been able to
put two and two together.
     
    Petronia collapsed on the
ground exhausted. She was so tired she almost forgot to make sure the other
slave was dead; he was, having bled out from his severed left arm. She looked
up at the boy who was standing there looking at the dead slaves. He wasn’t
saying a word; just looking.
    Then, “You’re bleeding.” He
was