The new guard was a little older than the one chasing me, rounder around the middle, with mousy brown hair and a receding hairline. “You don’t have to fight,” he said, sounding very French.
No time for words. I disabled him in four moves, taking out both arms and crippling his left knee first, before slamming into his right. Leaving him howling on the ground, I jumped over him, but I was too slow. The other guard, catching hold of my shirt, yanked me back.
Using this momentum against him, I pushed off from the ground and slammed all of my weight into him, sending us both tumbling down. Rolling in a way to minimize my damage, I was back up in a flash, my hand striking him hard in the temple and knocking him out cold.
My breaths burst in and out as adrenaline overloaded me, but I was safe for a second, and that allowed me to get myself under control. I was about to take off away from the fight, when something caught my eye right in the main light.
I hadn’t noticed when I was busy fighting for my freedom, but there was another fight going on—one black-clad fighter against five guards.
No, not justonefighter … it was the Fallen Angel.
He’d ditched the weapons and was taking them all on hand to hand, holding his fucking own. I was again mesmerized as I watched, both envying and admiring the smooth skills he possessed. I’d never seen a fighter like him, and I’d seen a lot of fighters before.
But the odds were against him because the Swiss guards were at the top of their game and highly trained, and they were going to wear him down.
My feet started to turn away, but then I couldn’t leave. What if they killed him? And I’d just walked away, too busy saving my own ass.
I couldn’t do it.
Muttering out a series of curses, I sucked up some bravery and sprinted toward them, taking the guards with their back to me by surprise. I roundhouse kicked one, knocking him out cold, followed by an uppercut-elbow action to another, clipping his chin and dropping him to the ground. I knew the second guard wasn’t out, but I’d hurt him enough that he didn’t jump back to his feet.
Fallen Angel now had the advantage he’d been searching for, and he took on two guards, fighting them both in hard, striking blows.
That left one for me, and I was almost excited to flex my muscles. The last two had been on the run, but this was different.
The guard was a foot taller than me, and he had a lot of bulk. His red hair was shaved military short, just like the others, and his eyes were hard. Mean. This was a guard that liked inflicting pain and abusing his power.Perfect.
Seeing me as weak because I was small, he launched himself at me with swinging arms and hard fists. I dodged the first two hits, but let a third graze across my shoulder. It hurt, but it allowed me to get in under his guard to deliver a fast series of gut and chest punches. I went for the softer, fleshy parts, so that I didn’t break my knuckles or hands. Usually I’d be taped up for hand-to-hand, so I’d have to be careful.
The guard let out a gush of air, and I cracked him again in the exact right place to wind him.
I didn’t realize that the Fallen Angel had dispatched his two until he tried to step in on my fight.
“No!” I said harshly. This was my battle to win.
Both the Angel and the guard jerked their heads back, and I cursed my own stupidity. I’d spoken. They now knew I was a chick.Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.
Oh well, the damage was done now. And they didn’t know what chick, even if the Fallen Angel was staring at me hard. I could feel his gaze.
With a huff of annoyance, I ran at the guard, and no longer fucking around, I used the wall for some momentum, pushing myself up so I could hit him with a straight shot. Maybe it was because I was female, or maybe I just took him by surprise, but he never even raised his hands, taking the hit like a pro and going down in a loud crash.
A hand wrapped around my biceps, and I swung out, slamming the side of my forearm into whoever was holding me.
“Whoa… whoa,” Fallen Angel said, holding his hands up. “I’m not the enemy.”
There was something familiar about his voice, the husky rumble triggering a memory. “Jordan?” I asked because he had a slight American inflection.
There was a pause, and then the angel nodded. “Who are you?”
I opened my mouth to tell him, but then … I decided that wasn’t the best idea.
“My persona is Vengeance,” I finally said. I’d always been Vengeance, dressed in purple but without a mask because in our underground circuit no one hid their faces. But I figured I could step right back into that world here.
“Well, Vengeance, we should maybe get out of here,” Jordan said, holding out a hand to me.
I ignored it because I didn’t want him to think I was a damsel in distress, just because he now knew I was a chick. Men were all the same; even after seeing me fight, they couldn’t help themselves.
Pushing past him so I was first, I ducked into the right tunnel and sighed with relief at the little hawk on the wall. Jordan stayed right with me all the way back to the academy, and there were thankfully no more guards.
