Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga 4)

That’s when she noticed a big black F150 ahead as it pulled up to the stop sign and looked as though it was about to enter the highway to head north, the same direction they were heading. The driver leered at her, his bloodshot eyes scanning her up and down before he made an illegal right-hand turn and drove the shoulder until he stopped only a few yards away.

Farrow could now see three men piled into the front seat. The engine thrummed loudly, but country music could still be heard twanging over it. The vehicle’s tires were huge, monster-truck style. The kind Freud would have a thing or two to comment about.

Farrow uncrossed her arms and inconspicuously pulled the knife she always kept in her boot, into her left hand. Being ambidextrous had helped tremendously throughout the years especially when it came to hand-to-hand combat. Her opponents were always surprised at her dual abilities.

The driver opened his door and leaped out of his overcompensating truck. In his hands was a blackened and greasy crow bar. His two cohorts followed him with less grace. One had a beer gut that was a true testament to his redneck ways and the other was skinny and had tattoos all over neck and arms. All three men wore ball caps that looked to have been dipped in pigs’ slop.

“Hey beautiful, you need help with that flat.” It was a statement, not a question. He tapped his left hand with the crow bar

From behind Farrow, she heard Alik’s voice rumble, “No, thanks guys. I’ve got it.”

Farrow risked a glace back at him and blinked twice to be sure. Alik had grown even more huge.

What the heck? Farrow thought to herself, eyes wide with wonder.

The three men were a little surprised, too. Alik was holding the spare tire like it was as light as an inflatable pool toy. His eyes glowed, but the color was different from the bright indigo when he was retro-cognitioning. There wasn’t any blue to them now—they were pure violet.

The two guys who were obviously the driver’s sidekicks glanced at their leader, nervousness obvious in the way they shifted both their footing and eyes.

“Why don’t you get moving, boy? We’ll take care of the lady from here.” The driver narrowed his beady eyes and nodded his head away as though showing Alik the door.

“She’s with me,” Alik growled protectively.

“She’s too much a woman for you, boy. Beat it. I ain’t asking nicely again.” He warned.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Alik seethed, dropping the tire next to the blown one, emptying his hands. He took four steps toward the redneck interlopers. Farrow watched his huge body move and was in awe.

Every step had his muscles growing larger, his T-shirt stretching to the very brink of ripping across the wide, thick chest. His biceps were throbbing with his heartbeat and growing with every pulse. Already a tall guy, Alik seemed to grow even taller by at least three inches. His jeans tightened around his muscular glutes and thighs.

“You need to leave.” Alik’s voice was deeper than it was a moment before. “I won’t ask nicely again.”

The driver looked back at his minions and nodded. They ran to Alik and grabbed both his arms. Their plan was text book. Two hold the victim down and the leader beats the crap out of him. The thought of them holding Farrow down so the beer-swilling driver could do something vile to her made Alik feel a burst of rage.

He raised his arms, the men still attached, lifting their weight easily before swatting them aside. They flew and landed in the grass beyond the shoulder of the road. The driver thought he’d take advantage of the distraction and came at Alik with the iron crow bar, swinging it at the back of his head.

Faster than even Farrow’s eyes could see, Alik spun on his heels and caught the bar in his right hand. “Oh, you’re going to regret that.” He twisted the bar out of the driver’s hand and tossed it under his SUV before grabbing the idiot by the throat and lifting him off his feet with one hand. His bloodshot eyes bugged out as he grabbed and scratched Alik’s wrist.

“Behind you!” Farrow yelled, just in time for Alik to see the two idiots come at him with fists raised. He tossed the driver aside and turned to meet his attackers with huge fists of his own. One punch to beer-gut guy’s face and his head whipped back hard enough to cause a concussion. He flew three feet back in the air and crumpled to the ground.

Tattoo guy flipped a butterfly knife out of his pocket and held it menacingly toward Alik before jumping forward to attack. In what looked like one swift movement, Alik blocked the hand holding the weapon with one massive forearm and punched him in the throat with the other hand. He was disarmed and flat on his back holding his neck inside four seconds.

The driver sat holding his dislocated elbow painfully. “What are you?”

“I’m the ‘boy’ who just kicked your ass. Now get out of here before I finish what you started.”

The driver and tattoo guy hobbled to their feet and helped beer-gut guy stand. They all looked as though a steamroller had hit them, leaving them dazed, bloody and confused.

Farrow watched them climb painfully into the ridiculously tall truck and perform an illegal U-turn to get back on the highway.

Alik turned to look at Farrow, his bright violet eyes filled with concern.

“Are you okay?”