Libra Ascending: An Epic Urban Fantasy Romance (Zodiac Guardians Book 1) by Tamar Sloan (top ten books of all time txt) 📕

comes at him, and all it takes is a duck and weave for the Skin’s fist to slam into the wall behind Tristan. The Skin’s howl of pain is cut off by Tristan’s uppercut. Tristan shoves the man back, and his comrades have to jump out of the way of the Skin’s unconscious body.

“Kill him!” Adalind shouts from further down the alley. “This one we’ll keep, but he’s not worth the trouble.”

Tristan’s grin returns. “I like that Chardis thinks I’m trouble,” he growls.

When several more Skins materialize behind the others, Tristan blinks. It’s like he suddenly has triple vision. The Skin he was facing steps back, joining the others as they spread out, forming a semi-circle around him.

Uh. Oh.

This time, they don’t come one at a time. Two leap at him, fists ready, another three already behind them. Tristan gets in a couple of good hits, knocking one Skin to his knees, before the first blow hits him in the solar plexus.

His body wants to double over but Tristan won’t let it. He throws out a kick, but it misses, and a Skin on his left jabs him in the kidneys. Pain explodes through Tristan as he staggers back, hitting the wall behind him.

There’s no break from the beating though, because more punches come. They slam his face, his chest, his gut. Within seconds, Tristan’s knees give out. He pushes away from the wall, falling onto all fours.

Zarius’s words slice through Tristan’s mind. Never let them get you down on the ground. You’re too vulnerable.

Which is exactly how Tristan feels as he watches the boot sailing toward his ribs. He groans as it slams into his side with all the strength the Skin possesses. Tristan curls into himself as pain cannonballs through him. He could’ve used Zarius right now.

As the second kick connects, Tristan wonders if he’s going to vomit up his shattered ribs. His suit could’ve come in handy, too.

The third kick comes from behind and Tristan goes from curled to arched on the filthy ground. His insides feel like they’ve been turned into mashed potato.

Brielle screams. It’s the sound of terror.

And Tristan’s failure.

He struggles to get up, knowing consciousness won’t be with him for much longer. Another kick, maybe two, and there’ll be no ribs left to protect his vital organs.

But the next kick doesn’t come. Tristan looks up, pain turning the world blurry. The Skin who was standing over him is gone, sailing through the air and slamming into a trash can.

Alden moves into his field of vision, standing in front of Tristan like the soldier he is. “Get up!”

Using the wall as support, Tristan straightens, every muscle screaming an objection. Beside him, grunts and thumps tell him Alden is fighting off the Skins. Shaking his head, Tristan knows he has to get it together.

This is the break he needed.

This is what could save Brielle.

Throwing his shoulders back, Tristan stumbles forward. He slams his fist into the nearest Skin, relishing the sound of cartilage crunching. The Skin stumbles backward, blood pouring down his face, giving Tristan the opening he needed.

He steps in beside Alden, instinctively choosing the side with the eye patch. “Brielle’s been taken down the end of the alleyway.”

“Well, then. We’d better get her back,” Alden mutters, determination hardening his voice.

“I think I might be in love with you, Alden.”

There’s no more time to talk as the Skins rush at them. Tristan fights with renewed energy and the first Skin drops quickly. Each punch that gets through his defenses feels like a wrecking ball, but Tristan ignores the pain. He can hurt later.

When they’ve got Brielle to safety.

Alden fights as well as Zarius would, making them a formidable team. Punches are dealt with precision, kicks with force. They slowly make their way down the wall, further into the alley. Closer to Brielle.

But the further they move, the more Skins appear. Tristan feels his burst of energy waning. His fists ache and it hurts to breathe. And judging from the grunts coming from Alden, this is taking its toll on him, too.

As a Skin lands a punch across Tristan’s jaw, he realizes something. Chardis sent an army along with Adalind. There’s no telling how many Skins there could be.

“Use your suit!” pants Alden.

“I can’t. I don’t know how!”

Doesn’t Alden realize if he could, he’d be all decked out by now?

Alden jumps forward, taking a Skin by surprise. He spins around, his elbow aiming for the next one’s nose. “You need to—” Alden never has the chance to finish the sentence. He stops mid-spin, facing Tristan as his back arches, his eye widening with shock.

And agony.

Tristan watches, horrified, as crimson blood blooms on Alden’s lips, then trickles over the edge. He’s shoved forward, Adalind materializing behind him.

Holding the bloody knife she just withdrew from Alden’s back.

Tristan catches Alden before he hits the ground, his bruised body crumpling under the weight. Alden’s mouth works as Tristan feels the gush of warm blood on his hands. “Hang on. We can heal you.”

But Alden’s shaking his head. The healing potion isn’t going to help anyone because Tristan won’t be able to get it. His house might as well be on Gemini I right now. They’ve lost.

Tristan’s blood is about to join Alden’s as it pools on the grimy cement.

Alden lifts a hand only to drop it again. “You need to hold…your stone,” he wheezes. “Then say…Akash.”

Akash? What does that even mean?

But that’s the moment that Alden goes limp, his eyes becoming sightless and glassy. Ice floods Tristan’s veins. “No!”

Adalind’s chuckle creeps down his spine. “Finish him.”

Tristan watches as her feet turn and head back down the alley to where she left Brielle. So she can bring her to Chardis.

Tristan straightens, watching Skins appear all around him, knowing there’s more behind him. He grips the gem hanging around his neck.

This is their last chance. Please let him have heard Alden right. Please don’t let his death have been for nothing.

The tanzanite digs into his palm. He shouts the single word like