He had moved swiftly and quietly through the streets, following her. She had been trying to get rid of him for the past few days. He knew that there was something amiss, but she had refused to give a hint as to what it would be.
He stopped as he watched her turn down the pier. Was she finally hitching a boat and taking off from this place? She had threatened to do so, but as of yet, had not followed through on it.
His chuckle, though soft, was dark. She would not be rid of him that easily. As she turned a corner, he moved out of the shadow that a building was casting and started to make his way after her.
"That''s far enough."
The voice had come from behind. A frown crept up. How could someone sneak up on him like this? He was becoming slack. He would have to remedy that little problem, after he dealt with this one. He turned, and found himself facing a line of men, who were walking from behind some boxes. So, that is how they did it. They had been waiting for him.
The frown increased. Anne was baited, as was he.
He heard it this time, foot steps once again behind him. Yet he was not quick enough. The street suddenly flew with stars, and his head was ringing. He could taste the blood in his mouth. He staggered, but never dropped. He had learned long ago to become weak was to invite death. Painfully, he forced his vision to focus, and found that another line of men were blocking the other side of the alley, and another small group around him, one holding a bloodied baseball bat.
He stood then, and his sneer grew as he watched the face of the one who held the bat.
"You knocked off my shades. I can honestly say that that was not a good idea."
The shock wore off quickly, and once again the bat was swung. Yet, this time it fell short of its mark. The man dropped suddenly, revealing to the men behind him a hand outstretched and holding the jugular.
The next motions became a quick blur. The three groups rushed forward, pulling various swords, knives, bars, and bats. They had not thought to bring firearms, because it would be more fun to beat the man to death. Not to mention, it was thirty to one, and an fire shot could have easily hit another of their own.
The dance quickly became deadly. He moved almost as in a trance, watching as each of his assailants reared back with their blow, and almost as if time slowed, he moved out of the way of each, using their own force to attack another of their members. The group was good, well trained to work together, and he had to work to make their movements alter so that they would take out their own.
Finally, he dropped the last of them, a knife run cleanly across their throat. He had no inkling as to how long the fight had lasted, but he knew that Anne was without protection for long enough.
He dropped the knife as he bent over and retrieved the Oakley''s. Then shots rang through the streets. His growl came hard and fast, and his movements once again came to life as he sprinted down the alley and then the pier.
His steps came short of her, as he caught sight of a man laying over her. They had both been shot, but it seemed, but the bubbles that continued to come form Anne''s mouth and nose, that she was still alive and breathing.
He moved forward then, and lifted the limp body off of her, and tossed it to the water. Turning, he bent down and lifted her much as he did many times before. This time, there was no fight.
He would need to bring her to a safe place, and though the old man''s place here in town was good, it was not safe enough. No, it would have to be the old man''s estates themselves. With that settled, he moved then, continuing down the pier.
Once at the end, he brought forth the estates image, and the rift opened. As he moved forward with Anne in his arms, it seemed almost as if something was holding him back, trying to keep him from coming in. But soon it faded, and he stepped into the hall of the Emerald Isle.
(Cross posted in Azjah's folder)
He stopped as he watched her turn down the pier. Was she finally hitching a boat and taking off from this place? She had threatened to do so, but as of yet, had not followed through on it.
His chuckle, though soft, was dark. She would not be rid of him that easily. As she turned a corner, he moved out of the shadow that a building was casting and started to make his way after her.
"That''s far enough."
The voice had come from behind. A frown crept up. How could someone sneak up on him like this? He was becoming slack. He would have to remedy that little problem, after he dealt with this one. He turned, and found himself facing a line of men, who were walking from behind some boxes. So, that is how they did it. They had been waiting for him.
The frown increased. Anne was baited, as was he.
He heard it this time, foot steps once again behind him. Yet he was not quick enough. The street suddenly flew with stars, and his head was ringing. He could taste the blood in his mouth. He staggered, but never dropped. He had learned long ago to become weak was to invite death. Painfully, he forced his vision to focus, and found that another line of men were blocking the other side of the alley, and another small group around him, one holding a bloodied baseball bat.
He stood then, and his sneer grew as he watched the face of the one who held the bat.
"You knocked off my shades. I can honestly say that that was not a good idea."
The shock wore off quickly, and once again the bat was swung. Yet, this time it fell short of its mark. The man dropped suddenly, revealing to the men behind him a hand outstretched and holding the jugular.
The next motions became a quick blur. The three groups rushed forward, pulling various swords, knives, bars, and bats. They had not thought to bring firearms, because it would be more fun to beat the man to death. Not to mention, it was thirty to one, and an fire shot could have easily hit another of their own.
The dance quickly became deadly. He moved almost as in a trance, watching as each of his assailants reared back with their blow, and almost as if time slowed, he moved out of the way of each, using their own force to attack another of their members. The group was good, well trained to work together, and he had to work to make their movements alter so that they would take out their own.
Finally, he dropped the last of them, a knife run cleanly across their throat. He had no inkling as to how long the fight had lasted, but he knew that Anne was without protection for long enough.
He dropped the knife as he bent over and retrieved the Oakley''s. Then shots rang through the streets. His growl came hard and fast, and his movements once again came to life as he sprinted down the alley and then the pier.
His steps came short of her, as he caught sight of a man laying over her. They had both been shot, but it seemed, but the bubbles that continued to come form Anne''s mouth and nose, that she was still alive and breathing.
He moved forward then, and lifted the limp body off of her, and tossed it to the water. Turning, he bent down and lifted her much as he did many times before. This time, there was no fight.
He would need to bring her to a safe place, and though the old man''s place here in town was good, it was not safe enough. No, it would have to be the old man''s estates themselves. With that settled, he moved then, continuing down the pier.
Once at the end, he brought forth the estates image, and the rift opened. As he moved forward with Anne in his arms, it seemed almost as if something was holding him back, trying to keep him from coming in. But soon it faded, and he stepped into the hall of the Emerald Isle.
(Cross posted in Azjah's folder)