Four men charged. Okay, that probably wasn't the best thing to say.
Brad's fist clipped the side of my jaw. I sidestepped and plowed forward like a linebacker, knocking him down. I landed two hard right hooks to his face before one of his men pulled me off.
I slammed my head backwards and head butted my captor. His grip loosened and he shouted colorful phrases. Holding his nose, blood dripped off his chin. One out for the count. Three to go.
I widened my stance and assumed a boxing pose. These bastards had no clue what type of monster they had unleashed.
Brad staggered up from the ground.
Cautious, but steady, his hands raised, the smallest man crept towards me. That they sent the small one made me curious, but I didn't give it too much thought. Instead, I curled my fingers and motioned him forward.
Someone kicked the back of my knee. I fell to the ground with an “umph.” I realized too late that the little guy had been a distraction.
The guy behind me grabbed my arms, yanked them tight behind my back and tugged me to my feet. I struggled, but couldn't free my pinned arms from his iron grip.
“It must make you feel really good to fight four to one.” I spat.
“Everyone knows you don't fight clean, O'Neil.” Brad wiped the blood from his face. “Although without your enforcer here to cover your ass, you might as well give up.”
“You're just pissed that she can take you down.” I didn't expect Brad to move so quick, but when his right hook connected with the side of my face, I saw stars. The bastard had a strong punch. I spat blood and grinned. “That all you got?”
Again, not my best comeback of the night.
He threw a combination of right and left jabs and ended with an uppercut that sent me to my knees. The man behind me finally released my arms. They counted me out too soon.
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. The vision in my left eye blurred and faded, the swelling forcing it closed.
I had to give them credit. They wanted bloodshed and they were getting it. I normally didn't go down easy, but my mind was more focused on Aylin than the fight. I stayed close to the ground, waiting for the next charge; even then, my body called to her. Her touch encompassed me until I swore I could feel her soul mingle with mine. Swimming through my veins. Touching every part of my being. Impossible!
I raised my head and smiled.
As I rose to my feet, new power surged through me. It was intoxicating and reminded me so much of Aylin. I needed to find her. First, I needed to handle Brad and his posse.
“You're a tough sumabitch. I'll give you that.” Brad charged.
I was prepared this time for the smoke screens. Almost as if I had eyes in the back of my head, I sensed the man behind me reaching to grab me. I executed a swinging back fist that connected with that goon. When he stumbled backward, I turned back to Brad and completed a flying knee to his face. After landing that blow, I charged the larger man.
No mercy from me, you asshole!
I swung wide and landed a punch to the guy's temple. Built like a brick house, he never faltered. I executed three more punches, before his fist collided with my already swelling left eye. My vision blurred. I swung again, but just connected with air.
He landed another right hook. I stumbled. When he charged, I took him down with a roundhouse kick. I swayed, but there was still one more man to dispose of. I turned to the small one. The decoy.
He shook under the onslaught of my gaze. I smiled. He ran.
I could've chased him, but what was the point? I needed to get to Aylin. I spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground and looked at the viewers. “Show's over, assholes!”
“Connor man, we knew you had'em,” someone shouted.
I didn't respond. I walked back to my truck, pulled the bloodied and torn shirt over my head, wiped my face and searched through my SUV for the spare t-shirts I kept on hand.
The crowd cleared and Brad and his goons disappeared.
I'll have some explaining to do to Liam. I'm held to a higher standard than regular pack members and bar brawls aren't on his favorite list.
The fuck, though. Those men deserved it.
I shut the door to my SUV. The cold air failed to chill the heat running through my body.
“Well, well, well.” A gravelly voice behind me interrupted my thoughts.
“Listen, the show's—” I pulled the clean white shirt over my head, turned, and stared into the devil's eyes.
Gabriel looked weaker than three months ago. But the anger in his eyes told me he had never given up his pursuit of killing imprinted pairs. I would have to warn Liam and Bryn.
“I saw the show, but can't believe there's already another bonded couple.” He looked at my wrist and grinned. “Well, almost.”
I tilted my head at his statement. He raised his eyebrows at my confusion.
“Listen, just take the warning from the Table of Seven and leave. I'm really not in the mood to fight.” I felt like a record on replay. I just wanted to find Aylin.
I didn't want to discuss bonded couples with this man. I had been searching for my mate for over a decade, but hadn't found her. Yet this idiot thought there was another imprinted couple walking around. Well, he was searching up the wrong alley.
“We can't have another bond.” Gabriel moved glowing red hands in front of his body. Flames evolved into the vague outline of a sword. His hands skillfully molded the heated weapon, while he chanted words I couldn't make out. A black char circled the
