Wings Page 63

The knife felt heavy in her hand, and for a few seconds she just stared at it.

“It goes around your waist,” Tamani prompted.

Laurel shot him a glare but pulled the strap around her middle and buckled it.

“Ready?” Tamani asked. His face was serious now. The strands of hair hanging over his forehead cast long shadows that looked like stripes across his eyes.

His brows were furrowed in concentration and a small crease stood out on his forehead, marring what could have been an advertisement featuring a brooding male model.

“Ready,” she whispered.

Tamani stepped out of the backseat and closed the door very softly. Laurel unbuckled her seatbelt and felt David’s hand on her shoulder. His eyes darted momentarily to Tamani when she looked up at him. “Don’t go,” he whispered fiercely.

She squeezed his hand. “I have to. I can’t let him go alone.”

David set his jaw and nodded grimly. “Come back,” he ordered.

Laurel couldn’t get her mouth to form the words, but she nodded and pushed her door open. Tamani stuck his head down and looked at David. “In about ten minutes, go ahead and pull up a little closer. If anyone in that house doesn’t know we’re there by that time, it’s because we’re dead.”

David swallowed.

“Keep a very careful watch. If one of them comes to get you in the car, drive away—if they can reach you, it’s too late for us. Drive to the land and tell Shar.”

Laurel didn’t like that part.

Tamani hesitated. “I’m sorry I can’t let you do more,” he said, his tone sincere.

“Truly I am.” He closed the door, took Laurel’s hand, and walked toward the house without looking back.

Laurel looked over her shoulder and stared at David for a long time before turning around.

They made their way around the sprawling house in much the same way David and Laurel had gone the night before. Laurel felt her chest tighten as she retraced her steps and crept closer to the creatures that had tried to kill her.

Who walks willingly back to their own death? she asked herself with a shake of her head. But she kept her eyes on Tamani’s back. His confident stance, even while sneaking along the wall, gave her courage. I’m here for him, she repeated over and over in her mind till it started to sound reasonable.

As they approached the smashed window, Tamani’s hand shot out and held her still against the peeling siding. He peeked into the destroyed window frame, which the trolls had not even bothered to board up, and dug into one of the pockets on his belt. He drew out what looked like a brown straw and slipped something small into it. He dropped to one knee and sprawled out away from the wall, exposing himself for just an instant to whoever might have been in the room. He blew on the straw and Laurel heard something whiz through the air.

Then Tamani was on his belly, crawling under the splintered sill toward the very back of the house. Laurel followed him, ducking onto her belly too. “What did you do?” she whispered.

But Tamani only held a finger over his lips and continued to creep forward. In a few more seconds, Laurel heard the soft buzz of conversation. Several feet ahead Tamani had stopped and was surveying what little he could see around the corner. He looked up at an ancient trellis, and a tiny grin touched his lips. He turned to her, pointed at the ground beside him, and mouthed, “Stay.”

Laurel wanted to argue, but as her eyes found cracks and breaks in the trellis, she decided her extra weight would be exceptionally unhelpful. Tamani scaled the trellis silently—something Laurel hadn’t thought was possible with the rickety wooden web—and looked more like an agile monkey ascending a tree than anything remotely human.

Laurel crouched by the corner of the house and peeked around the side.

Scarface and his friend were lounging on a dirty couch on the equally dirty porch. Their voices were too low for Laurel to catch what they were saying but, considering their conversation in the car the previous night, that was probably best.

Scarface yawned and the other troll looked close to falling asleep. Laurel heard the tiniest skitter as Tamani made his way across the roof, but apparently the two trolls were too tired or distracted, because neither of them even glanced up.

Even though she was expecting him, Laurel had to suppress a yelp of surprise as Tamani came flying down from the roof and swung to land gracefully in front of the trolls. His hands shot out like two blurs and clunked their heads together with a dull thud. They slumped into the couch cushions and didn’t move.

Laurel took one step and crunched a dried leaf.

“Wait,” Tamani said softly. “Let me finish first. You don’t want to see this.”

It was too great a temptation. He wasn’t looking at her, so she didn’t pull her head back around the corner—just watched in rapt fascination, wondering what he was going to do.

Tamani braced his knee against Scarface’s shoulder and held his face in both hands. By the time Laurel realized what was going to happen, it was too late.

Her eyes refused to close as Tamani snapped the troll’s head around and a sickening crunch assaulted her ears. Tamani leaned Scarface back onto the cushion and, as he turned his attention to the other troll, she couldn’t help but look at the limp face—devoid of life and, for the first time, not wound up in a sneer.

When Tamani lifted his knee to the other troll’s shoulder, Laurel quickly pulled herself back around the corner and shoved her fingers in her ears. Not that it mattered. The snap of Red’s neck found its way to her inner ears and her mind filled in what her eyes couldn’t see. Tamani’s soft finger on her shoulder made her jump.

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