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the merest glint revealing his eyes. The first figure stepped inside, scanning the
doorways leading out of the hall, and a second, stouter man followed. They were
short, their limbs thick and stocky
and Gabriel struck, arm shooting out to grab a handful of bandages and
haul the man backward. Asher had the time to place one shot and launched
himself at the first figure as it staggered, absorbing the impact of the bullet,
hands already reaching through the wrappings for weapons. Asher lurched at
the man and clasped his chest with the unreliable strength of his brass arm,
aiming to crush ribs. A jerk in the mechanism alerted him of an untimely
malfunction. The butt of his gun collided with the man s skull, then smashed one
of his lenses Asher grunted as he felt the pressure of small hooked weights
lodging themselves in his side, stopped by the thick leather vest that wrapped
his abdomen. He thrust the barrel of his weapon between the bandages on the
stranger s chest and fired, the recoil shooting up his arm to viciously tear at his
shoulder. An unmanly howl resounded in the room as the man clawed at him
with thick fingers, one reddened eye rolling wildly behind the shattered goggles.
At the edge of his vision, Asher could see a swipe of bright red as Gabriel moved
swiftly, his cloak thrown to the side to reveal a gleaming blade clutched in his
fist.
The man in Asher s hold struggled, and he brought his mechanical hand to
seize his throat, clutching tightly. The artifact did not fail him. His adversary s
grip weakened within seconds, a harsh wheezing sound coming from his
crushed windpipe. The man crumpled, a bloodied foam gurgling slowly from his
mouth, and Asher carelessly threw him aside just in time to see Gabriel s
opponent fall to the ground in a gush of blood, his throat neatly sliced open by
Gabriel s dagger. Gabriel stood, chest heaving, his face and arms splattered
crimson with foreign blood. A gash crossed his biceps where one of the hooks
had found hold; he stared back at Asher, his eyes blown wide, the hunger of the
hunt apparently not yet satisfied.
You re good, stranger, he said, voice strained. He did not move to wipe the
blood off his face, did not lower the knife. A somewhat manic grin ghosted his
lips, mirrored in his wild eyes. Asher found himself smirking back.
You re not too bad yourself, he replied. Abruptly, the strength of the blood
bond they now shared lodged itself in his chest the brotherhood of killers, the
only attachment he d known in far too many years and he added, Call me
Asher.
Asher, Gabriel repeated, breathless still. Asher could not suppress the
shiver that raked his body, ensnared by the way his name sounded on those full
lips. Gabriel looked at him with near-scorching intensity, distant thunderbolts
rumbling deep behind his irises. His eyes had darkened to a deep shade of
auburn. And then then he said:
Fuck me.
Asher s mouth went dry. He hesitated, suddenly all too aware of his own
body the heightened awareness that came only from the thrill of a fight, the
rush of a kill blistering energy thrumming in his veins, the heady rush of
adrenaline-like stoked embers at the core of his brain. More could come, he
rasped, his voice suddenly rough. His throat felt tight.
Gabriel s eyes gleamed dangerously in his blood-spattered face. Shut up,
he all but growled, an untamed grin curling his lips upward in the most
infuriating, enticing of ways. He fixed his eyes on Asher s as he discarded his
cloak and shrugged out of his harness. Slowly, deliberately, he unbuttoned his
tattered waistcoat and crumpled it in his hand, throwing it to the floor. He was
left in a thin button shirt its sleeves rolled up to reveal the soft crook of his
elbows, the hint of strong biceps.
Fuck me, he repeated, his mouth a slow sin. His face was sharp and
beautiful, pale skin a stark contrast with the dark bloodstains, his eyes
smoldering embers staring at Asher from under his tousled locks, provocative,
near damn intoxicating
And Asher was yanking off his own coat, unfastening the thick leather
protections that covered his chest. He stripped to a rough cotton shirt that
stretched over his muscles, a sleeve ripped to reveal the brass gleam of his arm, a
threatening confession in the half-darkness of the room. He grabbed Gabriel s
wrist, gracelessly dragging him close their mouths clashed together, tongues
exploring each other, teeth bared to sink in chapped lips, hot and messy and
filthy of all the promises Gabriel s half-lidded eyes seemed to bear. Asher s
fingers caught in thin fabric as they searched for warm skin he ripped his hand
free and impatiently slid it down the small of Gabriel s back, past the loose edge
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