Page 152 of Kill Feed

Another shot cracks through the air, followed by a slow laugh that drifts through the room.

“I knew something smelled off!”

“Fucking Kieran,” Dante states under his breath.

“I kept wondering,” the hunter continues as the sound of him circling the room reaches us, “why Dante Graves of all people hadn’t painted the floor with that kid’s brain yet.”

Dante scoffs as he rises, keeping the machinery between us and the military hunter. “Just walk away, Kieran.”

The man lets out a long whistle in response, and I can hear him reloading his weapon. “Breaking all the rules for some ass, are we?”

“Why, you jealous?” Dante spits back with a fucking smile slapped on his face. I guess some things just never change.

Kieran lets out a humorless laugh, his voice trailing nearer as he now shifts his attention to me, “Your boyfriend can’t protect you forever, cunt.”

Dante shakes his head, one brow lifting as he turns to me, “If you ever wanted proof just how serious I was when I said I’ll burn it all down for you… this is it.

Chapter 40

Dante

If that doesn’t prove my innocence, then nothing will.

Call it heroic. Fuck it, idiotic even, but make no mistake that I meant every word I said to Adrian.

Every. Single. One.

The rifle lies discarded on the floor, and we’ve been at each other’s throats ever since Adrian ran out that door. I waited until Kieran had to reload his rifle before kicking the damn thing from his grip, giving Adrian the opportunity to make a run for it.

“You’ve got no idea how fucked you are,” Kieran states, spitting blood from his mouth, mask long gone and forgotten during our scuffle.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” I grin, rolling my shoulders once before launching at him.

We’ve apparently decided a good old-fashioned fistfight is more appropriate than my knives and his bat. Oh, wait—he has a rifle now.

Pretty sure switching weapons halfway through Kill Feed isn’t exactly allowed, so the hypocrisy of blaming me for breaking the rules is almost adorable.

“You really think Selene’s going to forgive this?” he asks, rhetorical, of course, through flying fists. “You’ve spent years becoming her favorite, and you’re throwing it all away for one contestant?”

Hm. If only it were that simple.

A smile finds its way onto my face. “She won’t, but I’m not worried about that.”

Kieran clicks his tongue, the lines on his forehead deepening. “You should be; she’s going to skin you for this.”

“Maybe…” I add, growing bored with this back-and-forth dance that’s going nowhere. “But too bad you won’t be here to see it.”

I’ve spent the fight holding back, conserving my strength while letting Kieran exhaust himself. Now I let everything I’ve been keeping in loose.

I come in fast, throwing a punch that makes him brace for impact, but I drop my weight at the last second and sweep his legs out from under him. The man hits the floor hard, the impact knocking what little air remains from his lungs.

Kieran barely has time to suck in a breath before I’m on him. My hand closes around his throat, and I haul him upright, driving him backward into the nearest piece of machinery.

He stumbles, trying to find his footing, but my fist is already tangled in the back of his hair, yanking his head back before I slam his face into the metal.

Once.

Then twice.