TWISTED ꜜ LOUIS PARTRIDGE

⟾ 19 | PHOENIXES

Grabbing the collar of the man's tattered suit, I dragged him to the corner of the kitchen, slamming his head against the stone wall. Hm, rock won't do the trick. As the man struggled to resist, I blocked every blow he sent my way, pushing him towards the kitchen counter instead—made of wood, and very easy to penetrate with a sharp blade—which is exactly what I did.

Pinning the sleeve of the man's shirt onto the surface of the table, I held his other hand down to make sure he wouldn't move.

"Nice work, Partridge," Ash said, trying to wrench the pistol out of her mom's hand, "but I'm going to need that dagger back."

I winced. "Got it."

Turning back to the father, I stared at him with a split second of dwell. What shall I do with this miserable excuse for a human?

"Apologies," I said curtly, "but it seems you'll have to say night-night now."

Dusting off my fist, I gave him a shrug before sending a harsh blow to his jaw, knocking him out almost instantly. Good. Now that he was unconscious, I didn't have to worry about him anymore.

"Ash," I said, ripping the dagger out of the wooden counter, "heads up."

She sent me a panicked glance. "Don't you dare throw that, Partridge."

"You said you needed it!"

"And I still do!" She yelled, kicking her mom towards the doorway, "but I don't need my hand chopped off if I don't catch it properly!"

Ah, yes, that's a good point.

While she was brilliant in her hand-to-hand combat, I forgot she didn't take a training regiment dealing with daggers and swords. I'll keep that in mind. Flipping the knife in my palm, I sprinted across the kitchen, joining the fight.

Ash snatched the dagger out of my hand before I could even come to a stop.

"Thank you," she said, before shoving Martha up against the doorway and pressing the blade to her neck.

What a lovely family.

That was sarcasm again, if you couldn't tell.

"You've gotten better, [y/n]," Martha choked out, her eyes wild with struggle, "I'm proud."

Ash ignored that comment, her eyes narrowed and flared with pure anger. While she was preoccupied threatening her Mother, I decided to be a good sport and search for anything useful. Maybe an extra knife, maybe a toastie, because I still haven't had breakfast.

"I could kill you," Ash spat out, "is that what you want?"

Martha grinned. "I don't think it'll make a difference."

"Difference?"

"Killing me won't stop The Embers, if that's what you mean," she drawled out, "they'll have London in the palm of their hand before you even make it back to England."

I looked up from the drawer I was snooping through, panic in my mind. I'd managed to find a bit of rope and a sharpie, but that was it. Now I had to worry about whatever secrets were left to be uncovered.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ash hissed, pressing the blade closer to her mother's neck.

Martha laughed. "You didn't think you were the only thing standing in the way of them, did you?"

"Of course I didn't."

"Then you should have known about the bomb," the woman grinned, "brilliant contraption, you know, almost as good as the ones we make."