Read Storykiller for Free Online Page B

with her arms as he stood above her hacking the thick table into bits with his axe. When he broke through, she peered up to see him staring down at her, red-faced and breathing heavily. He looked completely insane and absolutely delighted with himself, the axe raised over his head, ready to deliver what could only be a killing stroke. Tessa could not believe she was going to be killed right now, here, in this stupid living room.
    What a disappointment she must have been.
    Tessa clenched her eyes shut, was this really how it all ended?
     

     
    Tessa opened her eyes as Bluebeard’s axe came speeding toward her, no more thick, wood table left to shield her. If she was going to die right now, she was at least going to have her eyes open for it.
    A blur of dark grey flew past Tessa’s face and Bluebeard’s blade landed just to the left of Tessa’s head, deep in the carpet and shards of table. Tessa reached for the axe but just as she grasped the hilt it vanished under her fingers.
    “Damn!” she cursed, glancing behind her to see a giant, grey wolf pacing in front of Bluebeard as the man struggled to get back up. The animal barely even fit in the parlor, its tail knocking into furniture as it paced predatorily about the room. It turned its massive head to Tessa as she extricated herself painfully from the wood and glass mess in the dining room and bared its teeth at her.
    Bluebeard called out for his weapon again and though the wolf moved, it couldn’t quite avoid the axe in the small space, and the axe clipped its furry shoulder. It howled and snapped at Bluebeard as he yanked the axe back, a little spray of blood coming with it. The wolf shuddered away, limping, favoring its damaged side. While Bluebeard was distracted by the massive creature, Tessa figured she’d best take her shot, and so she lowered her shoulder and ran at him. They went crashing into a glass coffee table, smashing it into painful bits as they landed, fortunately with Bluebeard underneath and taking the brunt of the impact. Even from beneath her, he tried to swing the axe but Tessa grabbed at it so that they were both holding it, wrestling for control . They rolled together out of the table and then, as Snow woke less than a foot away from them and drew back in shock, they worked their way to a standing position, neither releasing the axe.
    Despite his size advantage, Tessa could feel in their struggle that she was stronger than he was. If only she could find a way to throw him off balance, she thought she might be able to gain the upper hand. And so when he pushed his size at her, leaning her back, she let him, and when he overcompensated, leaning too far forward, she turned her body slightly and pushed the head of the axe downward. Just when he had almost lost his balance, she drew upon all her strength and twisted back into him, thrusting powerfully with her right arm, the hand closest to the blade, and driving it with incredible speed up and through his neck with a satisfying sluishing sound.
    And his head went sailing across the parlor.
     
    Snow watched as Tessa angled the axe and then used the full force of her strength to send it through Bluebeard’s neck. It was an incredibly complicated move requiring not just strength, but also an innate understanding of battle. The blade connected as if Tessa had been doing this all her life, not just a few hours. Snow blinked her eyes and clutched her own slender neck self-consciously, shuddering as Bluebeard’s head landed with an impotent, bloody thud some dozen feet away on the red carpeting.
    “Storykiller,” Snow breathed, barely a whisper.
    Tessa looked at her with sharp but weary eyes. “What did you say?” Tessa stood, spent and bloody in the middle of the parlor, the axe still in one hand, her face somehow both pale and flushed. Snow stared at Tessa, her hand still on her own neck, her eyes fixed and wide. “What did you say?” Tessa repeated.
    Snow blinked and tried to regain her