~~Young~~

Chapter Thirteen

   He stretched one foot out into the air, bent his other knee in preparation for the dismount- and was stopped again by Michael’s hand on his leg. But this time he didn’t move to disarm him, simply stop him.

   “Wait,” he gasped in pain, “look at her.”

   “What do you mean look at her? I haven’t stopped looking at her jackass.”

   Gage shook Michael’s hand off but he slapped it back around his leg, “then do you see what’s wrong?”

   He was about to bite off a big ‘fuck you’ you to him. Of course he could see what was wrong, those men wanted a piece of Sera whether she was willing or not…but that wasn’t what he meant. No he was talking about the eerie calm that had fallen over Sera when Twitchy grabbed her around her throat, when he leaned in to say Lucifer only knew to her before pushing his lips against hers.

   She was absolutely still. Not scared stiff, not forcing herself to be still, but as if she was a standing sack of skin. Twitchy gave her a shake, her arm flapped, her head bobbed, but no controlled movement. Twitchy didn’t seem to mind though, he gave a shrug as if it was fine with him and nodded to his boys to get started.

   “Beauty what are you doing,” Gage asked desperately.

   “I…I don’t think she’s there anymore…”

   It was as if she was asleep again, but her eyes were open…

   They all laughed in a sinister way Gage knew far too well having spent as much time in hell as he did. The one he spat on wiped his hands on his pants and moved in, the other one came around Sera’s other side as he began undoing his belt, Twitchy started unzipping her coat...and yet he could do nothing. Couldn’t move himself from where he stood.

   But that’s when she woke up.

   Gage couldn’t believe what happened next, had to look to Michael and meet his own astonished gaze accept that he was indeed not imagining things.

   Sera was now taking the three men on in a beautiful, and expert, fighting style.

   One moment the men were ready to grope her, the next she threw her hands behind her and withdrew two six inch blades from under her coat. They were curved with one jagged edge to tear and a smooth edge to sever, weapons only a warrior would own. Before they had a chance to step back she sliced off three of Twitchy’s fingers, added a matching gash to the blood burn on the one man’s face and sliced open the thigh of the other’s.

   Twitchy slunk back, gripping his wrist and looking in shock to where his digits used to be, but the other two she had only managed to piss of. They made for her again, and without hesitation she spun and kicked the one in his abs, buckling him over. The other she flipped her head up just in time to see reaching to disarm her. But without any effort she shifted her weight and pushed a blade up though his extended arm. A gurgled cry tore out his throat as she pulled it right back out, then silenced him as she punched him in the throat, crushing his vocal cords.

   She was fluid in her movements, every swing, every jab, every offense made on her looked as if she was dancing, as if this was all choreographed. And maybe he would have thought it was had there not been so very much blood splattered everywhere. And though there was plenty on her, none of it was her own.

   She turned her attention back to the man he had spit on, who was wavering suddenly in his courage. He looked to her, looked to his friends, then took off down the mouth of the alley.

   That left only her and Twitchy.

   She stalked him, coming up slowly to where he was now cowering behind a dumpster. Gage heard him plea for mercy which she did not grant. Another scream carried up to Gage and then he saw Twitchy go limping away, a dark stain coming from between his legs where Gage could only assume Sera had permanently disabled him.