Her Kind of Trouble Read Online Free PDF

his scimitar, my sword coiled around his and struck a second time across the light sleeve on his forearm.
    Another stripe of blood.
    I was the one who demanded, "Would you
stop
that?"
    "I?" The bastard groped outward with his left hand, picked up one of the display swords and, with a sharp jerk, flipped its scabbard to the stone floor. Such a guy. When in doubt, up the weaponry.
    Crap.
    Now I had two blades to deal with, using only one.
    My sword couldn't flow around both of them, and I'm no two-handed fencer, so I had to make myself flow around the man instead. Try to. Wouldn't you know I'd be wearing a skirt for this, gauzy but long—dress is very conservative in Arabic countries. At least I had on boots.
    The cluttered walls loomed in, too close.
    When the man rushed me, I had no choice but to back up—fast—rather than take the full force of his attack. Even as I pivoted out of his way, letting him push past me, I stumbled against another table of merchandise. When he charged again, I dived under his weapons to avoid them both.
    Gauzy skirt material twisted around my legs, and sand from the floor grated across my skin. Luckily, I managed to roll to my feet—barely—before hitting the opposite wall of this small
souk
. My skirt tore under one foot. A dagger fell behind me. "What the hell is your problem?"
    He swung with his right-hand sword. With my empty hand, I caught his from behind and encouraged it in the direction it was already going as I dodged, throwing him off balance.
    He stumbled.
    "Why did you call me a witch?" I demanded.
    Catching himself, he now sliced the left-hand blade toward me. I blocked it with my own weapon, one ringing impact and then silent adherence, sinuously winding my blade about his.
    That didn't protect me from the first sword, his scimitar. It flashed upward too quickly. To dodge it, I would either have to drop my sword or—
    No way was I dropping my sword. Instead, I sank into an almost impossibly low crouch—without having stretched first, which I would regret—and ducked under his elbow. The scimitar whipped through the air above me. But it missed.
    I tried to bob quickly back to my feet, behind my attacker and away from the immediate threat and his weapons, but I'd stepped on my damn skirt, which yanked me off balance long enough for the bastard to bodycheck me.
    That
was unexpected—which was why it worked. He rushed at me, filling my vision with his shoulder, his elbow. I meant to dance backward myself, like riding a wave. Let him do the work. Let him expend the effort.
    But
wham
! Too soon, my back met a sword-covered wall. The back of my head slammed against a hard scabbard. And Sinbad's swinging elbow knocked the breath right out of me.
    I sank, fingers curling desperately around the grip of my own sword.
Don't drop it, don't drop it
.
    As if lifting it were even possible, at that moment.
    My damp knees hit the gritty floor, and I folded forward, catching myself with one hand, one fist.
    Don't drop it!
    Breathe!
    My body obeyed the first command, but not the second. I fought the physical panic that comes from having breath knocked away and arched my neck, straining my face upward.
    The stranger's hulking body loomed above me.
    "You will leave Egypt , witch," he dictated in his impeccable British. "And you will take your friend with you."
    My chest tightened, and my view of him began to waver.
Goddess help me
…
    Maybe it was Isis , or Melusine, or just that universal, maternal force of goddessness that answered my prayer. Or maybe it was just timing.
    Hot, exotic air filled my lungs with a rush. And with it came power.
    Even as he said, "You will not interfere in matters that do not concern you."
    My fingers clenched around my sword. "Well, it sure as hell concerns me now." And I swung. A quick, angry arc across his ankles. Not enough to cut anything off—I doubted I had that strength, or this new sword had such sharpness.
    But definitely enough to bite. And