《Third Death》Chapter Twenty-Three
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“Stop,” Liam said, voice trembling with rage.
Red narrowed his eyes.
“Leave, now,” he said, “Or the guard will know you’re a thief.”
Liam stalked forward.
“I’ll make sure no one ever works with you again,” Red threatened.
“Step back,” Liam said, very quietly.
Vision shivered at the dark layer of menace in the words. Wisely, Red took a step away from her. Without taking his eyes off the smaller man, Liam held his hand out to her, and pulled her to her feet. Her midsection was a hot, throbbing, nimbus of pain but she grit her teeth and did her best to ignore it. Liam shifted his grip to her shoulder and it was as though he lent her strength through the touch. She managed to raise her chin as Red glared at them with simmering hatred.
“Walk towards the door,” Liam said softly to her, “You can turn around, it’s okay.”
So, she did. She tore her gaze away from Red and started towards the door. Liam kept his arm around her waist and walked backwards, watching Red the whole time as they moved. That meant he didn’t see when a new figure appeared in the open doorway.
“Stop them!” Red shouted, “They’ve taken the ring!”
Vision screamed a warning in time for Liam to throw them out of the way of Fists’ path as he charged towards them. She was flung into the wall. She landed awkwardly, striking her elbow and adding to the shrieking pain of her poor body. Contrastingly, Liam rolled as he landed, and he was up again before Vision had processed what had happened. He dropped into a fighting stance, keeping his centre of gravity low to the ground. When Fists struck him, he caught the blow on his forearms and countered with a quick, savage, roundhouse.
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Vision watched with her throat in her mouth as the men fought. If it had been a battle of sheer bulk, Fists would have won. Liam, though, seemed better trained and wasn’t a small man himself. He wasted less energy when he moved and where Fists grew more enraged, his blows growing wilder, Liam fought coolly. She didn’t even notice that Red had been moving towards her until he closed the fingers of his gnarled hand around her wrist. She yelped.
Liam spared a glance towards her at the sound. When he turned his attention back to Fists, it was as though he redoubled his efforts. He drove his elbow up into Fists’ chin, after a clumsy swipe that left the large man undefended. Fists’ head snapped up, and then he collapsed to the floor. Liam turned on Red, who dropped his hold on Vision to hold up his hands defensively.
“You can leave,” he said, “Just take her and go.”
Liam kept coming. He punched Red square in the face, and Vision heard a sickly crunch at the impact. Red screamed as he fell beneath blow, after blow, after blow from Vision’s enraged protector. Her stomach churned as she watched, and tears sprung to her eyes.
“Stop,” she said, “Just stop and let’s go.”
Liam was beyond hearing her, his face twisted in a snarl. Red’s wails of pain made her want to throw up.
“Please,” she said, “I want to leave.”
She reached him. He stopped, breathing heavily.
“Yes,” she said, tears sliding down her cheeks, “Look at me. Let’s go.”
He took a step in her direction. Then his face went slack. He fell forward, face-first onto the floor, where he sprawled like a discarded doll. She watched, eyes wide with horror, helpless to do anything. She looked from the knife hilt protruding from the back of his neck, to Glass standing behind him, wearing a sneer – and screamed.
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