Dark Warrior: Kid (Dark Cloth Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

with it like a toy. She no longer showed anyone how she could fold her arms around like chicken wings, or crawl completely through her own legs. Besides, it made it appear as though her arms and legs weren’t really attached. It scared people, caused them to whisper things behind her back.
    And if she talked about it, but didn’t show them—they’d called her a liar, and that only made her want to get her knife out— and skin ‘em.
    Gradually, she’d learned to hide her ability to dislocate her limbs, completely.
    But she’d use it now.
    Tremendous pain made the smallest shifts to her muscles threaten to cause her to blackout. And she didn’t know how late into the night it was—or if they were closer to dawn. She didn’t know how much time she’d have if that turned out to be true. Besides, the way they’d hung her only caused her pain to increase, every minute she hung there. She’d just have to hope they’d drunk themselves into a stupor—because she doubted very much she could be quiet....
    She folded her shoulder further back, disengaging it from the socket before she could let herself think about it. Thinking would’ve robbed her of her will—and she needed her will to survive.
    She moaned heavily into the rag, tears running down her forehead. The world swam crazily before her. She knew that if she vomited, she’d probably drown, because of the rag bound tightly to her mouth.
    The ropes went slack, and she used her freed left arm to pull her now useless right arm free from the knots. She worked quickly, disengaging herself from the confines of her bonds, knowing that at any moment, one of the men could wake—and sound the alarm.
    Kat was in superb shape. She’d been fighting all of her life. It’s what she knew, what she did best, though no one could tell just by looking at her—with her blonde ringlets and green, catlike eyes.
    She’d been raised with her momma’s people. And her momma had been half Cherokee.
    Kat curled upwards, snaking her body towards her feet, using her powerful abdomen muscles to reach them with her one good arm. They’d used the slipknot, so she’d only to pull the rope to free herself, and she hit the ground with a thud. Thank the heavens she’d been close to it to begin with. Still, she stifled off the scream that threatened to burst through, rag or no rag, when her shoulder collided with the hard-packed earth.
    She rolled to her feet, losing no time, and slammed her shoulder against the tree with the silent war cry that erupted from her throat—but never made it past the filthy cloth still in her mouth.
    If she could have seen her own eyes, she’d have seen how they glittered with deadly menace, her rage palatable now, as she ripped the stench-filled material from her mouth. One of the men rolled over, and she went still, blending with the darkness, then as he settled back into his deep slumber, she slipped into the shadows on silent, moccasin’d feet.
    Not a sound came from her movements as she crossed the camp, being careful not to step between the fire and the men, so as not to cast a shadow across their sleeping forms. She drew a rifle from near one of the men, drew a pistol from next to another. Then she spotted her knife—and she smiled.
    A six-inch hunting blade, sharpened to a razor edge, it served as her favorite weapon of choice. Perhaps seeing it in the firelight, where it lay close to a man who’d obviously not wanted to lose it, even in his sleep, caused her to thumb back the hammer on the pistol in her right hand. In the silence of the night, it made an eerie scrape of metal, as the cylinder swiveled the bullet into the next chamber to line up—ready to be fired—sending six men scrambling for their guns in a flurry.
    And when she finally stopped, five of them lay dead. The sixth—well now—the sixth soon gave her some answers.
     

Chapter Four
    Kid and Kat
     
    Kat woke to find Kid staring down at her. She frowned, confused. She tried to flex