Glowering over the hit and his own shame of being caught unprepared, Sebastian picked himself back up and went in swinging. The man yelped and cowered but couldn’t escape. He managed to survive a few seconds before two hits brought him down as well.
But he had a friend there waiting.
“Let me at ’im!” Cried a voice from behind.
He twisted around at once, this time catching the man before he could do anything. There was the smell of sweat and blood in the air. Sebastian inhaled heavily as he picked the fight back up.
One man in front and the other behind him offered up a small challenge, but not much. He toyed with them for a minute. It was easy to get carried away in a fight during moments like these. Besides, he hadn’t enjoyed a good bout for a little while. That was why he’d come here to Marcus, to get himself another match.
This should do the trick for a while.
Light on his feet and with the raw power from years of fights and boxing and wrestling, Sebastian eagerly tackled his opponents. All of them were scruffy fighters. They didn’t know the rules. They only ever fought to survive. Boxing, sometimes, had too many rules. There was a freedom in this that Sebastian enjoyed.
He enjoyed it even more when the two men went down.
That put three of them out of the way, with only two more to manage. The lady had made it to her knees and was still fighting one of them while the other was yanking at her waist. There was a flash of light. No, silver.
He has a blade.
“Don’t touch the lady,” Sebastian growled. An instinctual wave of protectiveness had him storming the man touching her.
While he could hardly believe the words he said, he let the moment slide as he snatched up the other man and tossed him down to the ground. During that, he heard something rip. Something stung, too, but he ignored that. The cold could do that to a man. He hoped it was along a seam somewhere and nowhere terribly noticeable. But he could worry about the clothing and the chill later.
The man was on the ground, still conscious, and groaning loudly.
“I wasn’t doin' nothin',” he moaned. “Why’d you ‘ave to do that?”
Sebastian contained his rage as he walked two steps over to him and hovered for a second to glare. The answer should have been obvious. Deciding to give him time to think over it, Sebastian hit the man unconscious. One of his friends, Tristan, always said that sleep helped a man to think, after all.
“Now,” he started as he turned to the last man.
The thief and the lady had finally come apart––and the former had won the purse. But now Sebastian conveniently stood in the way of his escape into Covent Garden. If the thief made it in there, then Sebastian doubted he would even be able to find him. The mews were too vast for a thorough search.
“Give it here,” Sebastian demanded.
“I need it back, please!” The lady scrambled up to her feet, her hair askew and her cloak on the ground. It didn’t seem to do much in general. Sebastian couldn’t tell if it was the dim light of night or the cold that made her appear blue. She made it to her feet and darted at the man.
Thief that he was, he had his prize and didn’t want to let go. He took off running in the other direction––right into the Soho neighborhood. It would lead on to Mayfair and other fancy streets and narrow pocket lanes to get lost in.
“Wait,” Sebastian started to the lady, knowing how unlikely it would be for them to be able to follow.
He took a step forward to chase after the lady now chasing the thief, but something walloped him hard in the head. He fell forward onto his hands and knees. The shock vibrated through his body and he fumbled down onto his side, turning to see a new man there.
The man was shakily holding up a wheel that tumbled down at his feet. Judging by his only slightly shabby dress and wide-eyed look, he wasn’t a thief. He was the driver.
Sebastian let out a curse. The world was still spinning after that hit. But a wheel would do that to anyone, he considered. The world tilted and cast a cold sheen over him. He thought he felt something damp on the back of his skull.
“What was that for?” he growled, trying to remember how to stand.
“Don’t touch her,” the man wheezed.
He grunted. “I was trying to help the lady, you fool. I wasn’t one of the thieves or cutthroats.”
“No? You came out of nowhere,” the driver accused albeit weakly.
“All the better to scare them.” Sebastian staggered up and felt himself weaving. He winced, forcing deep breaths. He could walk in a moment. He could run in a moment, too. He justneeded to get this out of his system. It was nothing more than a fair hit. “I wouldn’t hurt the lady.”
Nor would I have let my hackney break down in a place like this.
