Read Warrior Betrayed: The Sons of the Zodiac 3 for Free Online Page B

physical jabs, even ignored the dark desire that beat in his veins to see this jerk carved into a thousand pieces.
    All he saw was a haze of red, blood rushing in his ears like the ocean in the middle of a tsunami, as he imagined this ball of slime touching Montana. Shifting, he lifted the guy by the shoulders and slammed him down into the concrete, hard enough to make a human lose consciousness.
    All it did was daze this one slightly. Damn, where was he getting his strength?
    The Destroyer responded with a smirk. “She’s going to get what’s coming to her, you know.”
    “Why does Enyo want her?”
    If there was any shred of emotion left in the soulless husk of the Destroyer’s body, it coalesced in the dead eyes. “What does that bitch want with anyone?”
    What was this? Quinn tightened his hold again, repositioning his sword so that when he did lift his arm to strike, he had the shortest distance to the guy’s exposed neck.
    Was it possible the Destroyer didn’t work for Enyo? But how?
    “One more chance, asshole. Tell me who you’re working for.”
    The smirk gave way to an evil laugh. “You’ll never guess.”
    Unwilling to waste another second attempting to puzzle through the conversation, Quinn made his move. With a vicious, downward slash of the Xiphos, he sliced a clean, fine line through the neck.
    No matter how many times he watched it, the process never ceased to amaze him. The Destroyer’s skin folded up on itself, first shrinking, then dissolving into a pool of grease until there was nothing left but a small puddle. What had started out as human—then turned to a completely evil being from greed, avarice or maybe just a lack of hope—was now nothing but a rancid, slick memory.
    Sides heaving, Quinn watched the black, greasy pool spread into the sidewalk. Was he that far off from this existence? He might be flesh and bone—might even still have some semblance of a soul—but he was still a killer.
    He still lived in the shadows, fighting a battle that had no end in sight.
    But what did any of it have to do with Montana Grant?
     
     
    Montana raced from the lobby toward Quinn as she saw him approach the ornate front doors. His shirt-tails hung half out of his waist and a large gash ran down the length of his tuxedo jacket, but otherwise he looked surprisingly good for having gone hand-to-hand with the scum who’d followed them.
    She had to work past the lump in her throat as she reached out to touch his shoulder.
    “What happened? Are you okay? Where’s that guy? And where’s Tony?”
    Quinn rubbed a hand over the hard line of his jaw. “The guy got away.”
    She couldn’t say why his words caught her up short, but something in them surprised her. Was it the fact that the guy who followed them got away? Or the bigger fact that Quinn Tanner didn’t look like a man who ever let his prey go once he had it in his cross-hairs?
    With brisk motions, she ran a hand down the arm of his tuxedo jacket, brushing at the threads that hung loosely from the hole. “Are you hurt?”
    Quinn patted her hand before turning her back in the direction of the lobby. “I’m fine. And Tony’s fine. He’s parking the car now and then will be up. Said you’ll probably want to mother him a bit.”
    As her mouth dropped open, Quinn held up a hand. “He said it with a great deal of affection. And not a little bit of anticipation, if I’m not mistaken.”
    “Oh.” Her jaw snapped closed on the sweet words. “What happened to him?”
    “He doesn’t remember.”
    “But he’s fine?”
    “Fine. And mad. Which makes two of us.” With a nod toward the elevators, Quinn’s gaze was pointed. “Let me see you upstairs.”
    “I called the police. Don’t we need to wait for them?”
    “I’ll come back down when they get here and I’ll file a report tomorrow.”
    “Oh. Does this mean you’ve taken the job?”
    He shot her a wry smile that Montana felt down to her toes. “Yeah. I guess you could say