My hand tensed in preparation for a possible fight. If we left here without him getting my cooperation, Kitty might be dead by midnight. I wasn't sure if I could take him. There was a power that simmered underneath his exterior, just waiting to explode, and I felt it. Either way, someone's blood would be staining the dock beneath our feet.
If I did manage to kill him, would I be able to find Kitty? Or would I be condemning her to death anyway?
I shifted my stance, getting ready to go for a knife. I should’ve brought the gun. Why didn’t I? I knew why. I was afraid I was going to shoot myself with it. But somehow, the knives they just felt natural in my hands.
“I want you to stop them.”
My entire body relaxed with those words. I didn't have to kill anyone. A scream of relief wanted to burst from my chest, but I held it in. Saving someone, now that I could handle. I felt a kernel of doubt about my abilities but nothing compared to the overwhelming anxiety of a minute ago.
But what if I couldn't? It didn't matter; I'd figure it out. I'd saved people fated to die before.
I took a step forward and he followed. “I'll come just close enough to see you in action.”
So much for the southern gentleman act. I hoped he carried a handkerchief. Drooling over blood wasn't a good look.
Shaking my arms out, I cleared my mind and pushed Malokin’s presence from it. I focused all my attention on the boat, on the job at hand. If I didn't get it done, three people could lose their lives tonight.
With Kitty on my mind, I headed toward the yacht. The screaming was audible before I even climbed onto the deck. I wasn't working with the Universe on this but against it, as evidenced as soon as one of the ladder rungs broke beneath my foot. My hand firm on the side rail, I plowed ahead.
Also, there would be no cloaking of my presence. This was going to be all me, and I had no idea how I was going to do this.
No need to get worked up. Baby steps. Who knows, my appearance alone might calm the situation. The shooter wasn't likely to want witnesses.
Two men, both in their late twenties, with very similar features, stood in the main room right off the deck, arguing with each other.
“Hello?” I approached the large room they were in, separated by glass doors.
They paid me absolutely no mind at all, just continued to scream at each other. I didn't care what their argument was over, but it was hard not to pick up on the particulars as I stood there.
It seemed one of them had been caught embezzling the funds of their jointly owned company. Of course, the accused denied this vehemently and screamed how the accuser had been slacking in his obligations. He'd deserved more. It didn't matter to me one bit. The only goal I had tonight was that nobody died because of it. Looking at the two of them and their cracking skin, it wouldn’t have been a big loss.
“Hello?” I repeated, quite a bit louder, and accompanied it with some pounding on the door.
I needed to handle this and in an impressive manner. Not because I cared what Malokin thought of me from an ego point of view, but because the more adept I appeared, hopefully the more leverage I'd have. Standing at a locked door and screaming didn't look very impressive.
Not sure what else to do, I thudded on the door even harder, as if I really meant it this time. I had the first time as well, but this was an open up or I'll break your door down kind of pound, or at least my best impression of one.
Finally, they turned to me. The larger of the two opened the glass door and then they yelled in unison, “Who the hell are you?”
I put on my best lady in distress appearance. It was a bit of a stretch after the pounding on the door and my black cat-burglar outfit. “I have a boat docked a few spaces away and—”
“Get the fuck out of here!” The guy who opened the door screamed so loudly I could see spittle flying in the air. This is how you treat a woman in need? Animal. It almost made me sorry I'd have to save one of them tonight.
“But…” I fluttered my lids, trying to work up a good cry.
I didn't have time to force tears before they each grabbed an arm. I was then manhandled off the deck and over the railing. My fingers grabbed for the ladder just as they released me, not caring if I fell or not.
I had to save one of these jerks? It might have been better if I was supposed to kill them both.
They loomed over the railing, ensuring my departure. My feet hit the dock and I proceeded to take a couple of steps away while their eyes were still on me.
Malokin was watching from the end of the dock but I paid him no heed. If he had a complaint over how it was going, he could take off his nice suit jacket and get his hands dirty. Otherwise, in my opinion, he could shut up.
The sound of the boat door slamming closed spun me on my heels. I doggedly headed back toward them, trying to think of a new approach and getting angrier as I went. What if I'd really been stuck? What kind of men were they? Either way, one of them was getting some saving tonight, whether he wanted it or not.
I slinked up the side of the boat, ignoring the breaking ladder as I went. This time, I stayed out of sight and simply watched the fight escalate. The argument took a turn for the worse with a shove, and the smaller guy fell into the table behind him. The larger one, already having the upper hand, turned his back and pulled out a gun. Well, that wasn’t very nice.
Plan or not, I was out of time. Running across the distance, I yanked the handle but the door didn’t budge.
This was going to have to happen the hard way. Backing up several feet, I launched myself through the door. Glass shattered everywhere and scraped along my skin in various places. That wasn't the tough part. It felt like I’d hit a cinder block wall right beyond it. In truth, what I was hitting was the Universe's resistance to what I had in mind. I didn't remember it feeling quite this bad last time. When I'd saved that woman in the woods so long ago, I'd experienced pushback but not of this caliber.
My legs felt like they were being tugged at the ankles and I’d been laid out on an ancient torture device, like the rack. There was even more pressure against my torso, to the point I lost my breath.
I forced my way through it until it gave and was shot through the room like a torpedo. I took the guy down just as the gun went off.
The bullet skimmed across my back, just as I landed on top of the intended victim. There was a trail of burning pain, but I could breathe normally. No puncture wounds, just a graze. It was manageable damage, as long as the guy didn't shoot again.
“Who the hell are you?” the voice across the room asked in a mixture of shock and agitation. I looked up to see him staring at me, the gun pointed in my direction.
I stood, slowly moving off the guy beneath me. I raised my hands in the air, in an effort to mentally disarm my current foe.
“Who are you?” he repeated, screaming; his intended victim was looking at me, as well.
“I'm no one. Just a random stranger who saw what was happening.” My voice was as calm and level as I could make it.
He eyed me up and down. The hand holding the gun was shaking as it pointed at my chest.
“How did you do that? Dive through the window like that and tackle him so quickly? How? I didn't even see it happen. It was a blur. What are you?” The last sentence was screamed. He used his gun to point to the shattered glass all over the floor.
“What I did doesn't matter. You can't kill him.” I motioned to his intended victim, still lying on the ground at my feet, where I'd left him. The guy looked more scared of me than his possible murderer. Good; hopefully he wouldn't do anything stupid.
“Says who?” His voice betrayed his fear of me. I just wasn’t sure if he was the fight or flight type.
“I do.” The scary person.
“What if I just kill you, too?”
He was quickly falling into the fight category. Time to dig deep and do something really badass, or we'd both be dead soon. If I went for one of my knives, and it got out of control, he might end up dead by my hand. Adding more weapons to the situation might not be a good idea.