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A split second, and my knife is flipping through the air, through his palm, pinning it to his thigh. Another breath, and I snap my elbow back to take Bull in the face as he tries to sit up.
My knees groan as I rise, a lifetime of hard work, fighting.
But I’ve always known how to block out the pain.
The guy with the knife through his hand is still screaming, his other hand shaking as he tries to get his gun out of the holster. A quick two-step and a flick of my wrist sends the gun flipping into the foaming water, and my hand whips up to take him under the chin with a swift punch, dropping him.
Turning, I catch Sly lunging toward Hellena, and she clocks him across the face, pushing him back, making him even more angry. This is right about the time two more thugs step out from behind a building, rushing me.
Sly pulls a gun, snatching at Hellena’s wrist and shoving the barrel into her face, shouting at me. “I fucking warned you! I warned you what would happen. Now we're gonna take the girl, you're gonna fuck off and die, and I'm gonna squeeze every ounce of work I can out of her one way or another!”
“Gavin!” Hellena screams as the twisted bastard squeezes her tightly, running his free hand over her tits. Panic scythes through my spine for a split second, true fear for the woman that I suddenly realize I’m falling in love with.
Darkness smooths over my fear.
A deadly calm settles over me.
That utter silence overtakes every other sensation.
In that stillness, I know several things instantly.
The dead man across from me will not harm Hellena. He can’t, because I won’t tolerate him to live for another minute.
Her eyes plead with me, mixed with sheer terror at her captor and toward what she sees in my eyes. Damon called it “the reaper’s gaze”, said it was the most fucking horrifying thing he’d ever seen.
I caught it in his eyes a time or two.
But Hellena isn’t frozen in fear. She nods to me, ever so slightly.
The two guys flanking me from behind have baseball bats. I guess not every drug dealer can afford to arm all their men. Works in my favor, since I would rather not fire off rounds that I’ll have to track down later.
What happens next is like programming.
It's instantaneous.
And yet it all takes place in slow motion for me.
My head tips to the side, signaling Hellena to move. She throws an elbow into Sly’s gut and dives to the side. He’s still clutching her, but I’m already on him. One hand closes over the gun, tearing it down and to the side, taking off his entire trigger finger with it.
The two thugs are on me in an instant, and I feel the air of the bats whistling down on my head. I dip, hooking one guy behind the knee with my leg, the other guy under his arm with my free hand. I twist, flipping around to the side, taking the bigger of the two down. The one on my left catches my sleeve as he falls back from the shove, tearing it clean off.
Just as a twist of my leg snaps the other guy’s leg clean at the shin.
The wail he lets out cuts off as he blacks out, and I spin, pinning the other one by the throat with my forearm. His eyes are locked over my shoulder, staring at Sly, bent over his gushing hand, in shock at the missing finger, looking to his boss for help.
Sly isn’t looking at his finger, though.
His eyes are locked on my shoulder. More specifically, at the tattoo of the smoking skull that I keep hidden.
Looks like he’s seen the goddamned devil.
Because he has.
I smell the piss before I see it soak his pants.
“E–everybody back, go, GO!”
Several more were apparently waiting in the wings. They all hesitate, just out of the light.
