Leon tilts his head. “Ready?” Fuck, it talks through the mask's altered voice.
I raise my gun. “Born ready.”
“Before we begin,” Leon starts. “Where is your father?” He is just trying to rile me up, and I’m not taking the bait. I point my gun toward him and give him a daring look.
We both take a deep breath, and without missing a beat, we start firing at each other. The first shot splits the air, and I’m already moving. His bullets tear past me—close enough to feel the heat and pressure—but not close enough to matter. I return fire, not to hit him, but to push him, test his rhythm, map the way he shifts his weight.
He dodges every single bullet in a way like he is dancing, light on his feet.
Clean. Sharp. Too clean. But interesting, nonetheless.
He rolls behind a pillar. I slide left across the floor, keeping low, tracking the slightest flicker of movement.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” I call.
The mask distorts his laugh. “Likewise.” The amusement in his tone is all too familiar, which makes me disoriented.
No, not today.
We fire again—but our ammunition is gone. I grin because I can finally use the toys I have been dying to play with. Before I can react, the glint of a blade flashes right before my eyes. I swerve it and catch it by extending my arm really fast, and I throw it right back at him.
Leon dodges the knife, which gives me time to duck and slide across the floor. He starts throwing all his knives at me while I slide, and I miss all of them but one. One knife grazes my right leg, and the sharp sting of the shiny object makes me more aware.
More aware of my surroundings and more aware of this talented fucker here.
My feet slide under this asshole’s feet, and he tumbles down onto the floor. I stand up, grab my last knife, and charge at him. I kick him in his right knee, and he disregards what I did, probably because of the adrenaline, but I’m fast as well. I’m now standing before him, and I slice his right arm.
Warm, beautiful, metallic blood is coating his navy compression shirt.
I look at him with a satisfied smile, and that one fades quickly. The bastard grabs the knife with his left hand, and with the speed of lightning, he cuts not too deeply across my stomach. The surprise attack and this man's agility make me lose focus for just one fucking millisecond. My thirst for revenge and my loss of blood have started to make me a liability to myself.
But I keep on pushing.
I’m now standing where the asshole stood before.
“Getting tired?” I ask him as I look for my bat. Fuck. It’s on the table right beside him. He sees me looking for it and picks it up.
“Not even close.” He points toward me with the bat. “Where is your fucking father? I’m getting impatient, when I’m usuallyextremelypatient.”
“I don’t know where he is. Lose the bat, come fight me as a motherfucking man.”
“Fine.” He drops the bat on the floor beside him. “M.” My name on Leon’s lips sounds like a dark omen.
“You are going to pay for what you did to Lana. I promise you that.”
“Don’t count on it. Are you ready to die? Because you just used up your last chance.”
“See you in Hell.” We start walking toward each other, and the only thing that you can hear in the room is the breathing of Leon’s soldiers.
The center of this room will determine my or this asshole’s fate.
We are going in circles, testing who will land the first punch. Then he stops me dead in my tracks.
“I’m not Leon. You killed him almost six years ago.”
Before I can muster up any response, themasterhits me.
He throws the first punch—hard and fast,surprisinglyfast. It connects with my jaw, and I can taste blood in my mouth. The second punch I block, redirect, and counter with a shot to his ribs. He takes it without a sound, but I feel the flinch.
