Kicking my chair toward the belly of the next nearest goblin, I danced around a middle aged human male who had frozen in place, staring at the crimson splash across his shirt. His companion stared at me, her eyes and mouth round as coins.
Did she not see images of this everyday in her available entertainment? Why were they all acting so terrified?
Another of the attackers threw a table at me. I ducked, and it crashed into the wide expanse of mirror and bottles. Shards sprayed, and the smell of blood mixes with the scents of spilled alcohol.
I charged him.
He deflected my first low cut and answered with an attempt to gut me. I hopped back, wishing I had armor. Sadly, unlike my blade, armor didn’t come to my call.
Grinning, aware of his advantage, he engaged me in a flurry of jabs and thrusts, the happy gleam on his face fading as I parried them.
I was not King of the Goblins through virtue of weakness at arms, fool.
Having gotten his measure, and the fact he dropped his right arm when he attacked, signaling his blows before he tried to deliver them, I took the offensive.
I was in the middle of a swing when I glimpsed Andromeda out of the corner of my eye. Oh, she was magnificent. She stood in the doorway of the restroom, wide-eyed and beautiful, with another goblin bearing down on her. Magnificent and vulnerable.
Without caring that my opponent would try to take advantage, I threw my sword at the goblin rushing to harm her. It sank into his chest and I ducked as my nearer opponent rushed me.
Over his shoulder I saw the goblin who had threatened Andromeda fall to his knees, then topple over.
The screams of the patrons in the restaurant lessened; many of them had found the exits. A blessing; my ears ached with the avalanche of sound.
I grabbed one of the small knives from the table. I preferred not to parry barehanded, and while I could beat him, I was at a disadvantage. Not least because I was dividing my attention.
I could see the terror in Andromeda’s wide eyes. Those lovely eyes narrowed as fury joined fear, and she leaned over to the nearest table and picked up a bottle of wine, and darted toward us, smashing it over the head of the goblin attacking me. I sank my knife into him when he staggered into me.
"Are you okay?" I asked, grabbing her arm.
"What's happening?" she asked breathlessly.
"Mort is trying to take over the world," I said shortly. "He sent his goblins to attack us."
"Us?" she echoed.
"You are a part of this now," I said, grabbing her hand and retrieving my sword before tugging her towards the door. "Come on, we have to get out of here."
As we retreated, a ball of fire erupted from Andromeda's hand. "How'd I do that?" she asked.
"Magic, dear one." I increased our pace as the flare of fire had caught the attention of those who’d pursued the patrons out the front door. We would take the rear exit.
The goblins were close on our heels as we ran out of the restaurant and down the street. I could hear their shrill cries and the smash of glass as they paused to wreck the place.
I’d take the seconds it gave us. While Andromeda’s shoes did wonderful things for her legs, they did not lend speed. The alley we had slipped into was filthy and risking her feet was out of the question.
"Where are we going?" Andromeda asked, her voice high and tight.
"I do not know," I said. "Just run."
We didn't get a chance. Near the dead end of the alley, as soon as we looked toward the street, I saw more goblins, and worse, Franklin, Andromeda's brother-in-law. He was wearing mottled fabric in gray and white and a helmet, carrying a firearm in his hand like a tiny club. He looked ridiculous, even to my eyes.
"What a doofus. Camouflage gear?" Andromeda muttered as she eyed the goblins advancing.
I pulled my honor knife out of its sheath in my left boot and handed it to her. "In case they get close."
It declared her my mate, true, but I would not leave her defenseless here. Explanation could come later. And if all witnesses were dead, it became a small matter.
And I planned to do it anyway, once she consented.
