Every author has a favorite character from the books they write. For those of you that have been asking, here’s my favorite scene from Book 2 of The Lost Realm saga, when my all-time favorite character is finally introduced.
Don’t say I don’t even do anything nice for you. 😉 xoxoxoxxo
As Evin followed Emma and Tristan out of the club and onto the street, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them.
“What’s going on?” Claire asked, struggling to keep up with them in her heels.
“Someone was watching us in there,” Emma answered anxiously. “And he didn’t look very friendly.”
“Was he at least attractive?” Evin asked sarcastically. “The single life is getting kinda lonely.”
“Now’s really not the time to be joshing around,” Tristan said brusquely.
It was as soon as Tristan said this that Evin suddenly noticed eight black-clad figures, rapidly approaching them.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groaned.
The others stopped to see what he was talking about, dread filling their expressions when they did.
“Venators,” Emma breathed, already drawing her dagger from her jacket. Her human skin instinctively melted away to her tougher, turquoise-colored Dracon scales.
She noticed that Evin and Tristan had also chosen that moment to morph, Evin taking on the same turquoise armored scales as his twin. As a full-blooded Dracon, Tristan always looked slightly more formidable than either of the LeFay’s when he morphed, his scales shimmering a brilliant green while his golden talons—one of the traits neither Emma nor Evin had received, due to their mixed bloodlines—flashed in the moonlight.
“Those are the same people who tried to kill you guys a few weeks ago, right?” Claire asked. Violet energy surrounded her hands.
Evin nodded as he pulled his own dagger out and waited for it to change into his preferred double-bladed sword. “We’re screwed.”
“Back to back,” Tristan ordered as he moved closer to the rest of them.
The ninja-clad Venators came at them with a force similar to a hurricane, splitting up into pairs against each of their Otherworlder targets. Once again, Evin was surprised by how well trained they were, as he barely avoided getting whacked on the side of his head with a metal tonfa.
“What do y’all want?” he muttered between gritted teeth to the two black-clad figures he was locked in battle with.
As he expected, he received no reply. Instead, he was answered with an even more determined effort out of his opponents, remembering what the Maddox’s had told him about the unique tattoos and steroids they took to make them stronger and faster than normal humans. Whatever kind of drug it was, it was definitely working.
Evin used the side of his blade to whack one his opponents upside their hooded head, causing them to stumble backwards several steps as they clutched at the spot he had hit. Evin used their disoriented state to his advantage, slicing a long gash in his other opponent’s arm and raising his sword above them.
It was then that he found himself hesitate.
It was a completely uncharacteristic thing for him to do. Evin never hesitated in battle; not when their lives were on the line.
Then he remembered.
These were humans they were fighting. Deranged, but still humans, nonetheless.
With a frustrated sigh, he held his hand out in front of him, willing the Venator’s metal tonfas to grind and bend until the weapons encircled their owner’s upper body, preventing the figure from further participating in the fight against him.
“You guys weren’t exaggerating about these people, were you?” Claire asked as she concentrated on keeping a force field between her and her two opponents. She hadn’t left any room in her disguise to bring a weapon with her, Evin realized.
“I wish we had been,” Emma said before kneeing one of the Venators across from her in the gut. She used the person’s surprise to her advantage, changing to her shadow form and appearing behind the Venator’s partner.
As if they had been expecting Emma’s next move, the Venator spun and roughly kicked Emma’s feet out from under her. She fell to the ground with a loud oomph, bringing her staff in front of her face just before metal tonfas slammed down on it.
Evin flicked a quick glance at the dark figure that stood over his twin, sending them suddenly flying through the air and into a lamppost.
Tristan’s opponents were just as skilled and merciless as their insane companions, both of them expertly dodging out of the way when he slashed out at them with his talons. Finally fed up with his masked attackers, Tristan arched his back and released a furious stream of red and blue flames, singeing one of the Venators enough to leave them writhing in pain on the pavement, while their partner barely managed to leap out of the way.
They came at the Dracon with all they had, slamming their weapon into Tristan’s rib cage during the moment he took to catch his breath from the psychically exhausting effort of fire-breathing.
Tristan yelped from the impact and stumbled back, quickly recovering and raising his daggers as the Venator took an abrasive step toward him.
“Hey guys?” Claire nervously called out. “I don’t think we’ll be making it out of this one.”
She had barely finished speaking, when all of a sudden, the masked opponent that Evin had earlier incarcerated with bent tonfas fell to the ground, the round shape of a metal chakram protruding from their back.
Evin looked to see where it had come from, giving a startled gasp when a man appeared from nowhere and lunged for one of the Venators Emma was locked in battle with. Quick as lighting, he extended some type of embellished saber and thrust it through the person’s back, where their heart was located.
Finally shaking himself from his daze, Evin moved to help the man and froze when he saw only one Venator standing.
How had the man managed to kill all of the other six Venators so quickly?
Without even hesitating, the man knocked the person’s tonfas out of their gloved hands and reached out to twist their neck in one swift and violent motion, causing goose bumps to rise on Evin’s arms at the sound of bones snapping.
“Holy crap,” he muttered, lifting his head to stare at their savior.
The first thing he noticed was how tall the man was, reaching well over six feet, with broad shoulders that, from what Evin had just witnessed, were put to good use. His dark hair had been cut close to his head, but was long enough for Evin to tell that it was curly.
Last of all was the man’s face.
As the midnight-colored Dracon scales quickly fluttered away to regular skin, Evin saw that the man’s face was a face that had seen both many years and many battles, from the rugged stubble on his chin, to the white scar just above his right, unfathomable silver-rimmed eye.
Next, Evin found his gaze slowly traveling down to take in the rest of the man, noting the muddy, steel-toed boots and the long, black-leather trench coat he wore, where the edges of a faded, intricate tattoo peeped out from beneath his sleeve.
This man was dangerous.
Without acknowledging Evin’s comment the man smoothly slid his embellished saber into a large black stick he had been carrying around, revealing the contraption to be a very extravagantly-made cane. When his saber was safely put away and his cane firmly situated beneath his grip, the corner of the man’s mouth slowly turned upward as he steadily glanced at each of them.
“I hear you’ve been asking about me.”