The cidery door slammed open, and Kazan roared.
The sound hit the room like a storm. It went through my bones. For one frozen second, the man holding me stopped moving.
Then he dropped me.
I hit the floor hard. Glass bit into my palms, and I scrambled backward until my spine hit the cold curve of a tank.
The man reached for something at his hip, a weapon. He got it out. He even got off two shots.
Kazan didn't pause.
The shots hit him. Or maybe one hit and one missed. I couldn't tell. There was a sharp smell in the air and a flash of light, and Kazan's head jerked a little, but he kept coming.
The man swung the weapon like a club when Kazan reached him.
It cracked against Kazan's jaw.
Kazan didn't even flinch.
Oh.
Oh, hell.
I had seen Kazan gentle. I had seen him careful. I had seen him hold a basket of glow-fruit like it was treasure.
This was not that Kazan.
This was the arena monster, the gladiator.
He caught the man's wrist, and the weapon clattered across the floor. The man threw a punch. Kazan let it land on his shoulder like it meant nothing, then fisted one huge hand in the front of the gray jacket and lifted him clean off the ground.
The man's boots kicked uselessly.
I would have laughed if I hadn't been trying to remember how breathing worked.
Kazan carried him across the cidery in three strides. The big walk-in cooler stood open near the back wall, propped with a crate.
Kazan kicked the crate away and threw the man inside.
Not pushed.
Threw.
The man hit the floor and rolled into a shelf. Something inside the cooler clanged.
Before he could get up, Kazan slammed the door shut and dropped the locking bar into place. The sound echoed through the building. For a moment, no one moved.
Well, the man in the cooler probably moved. I hoped he was uncomfortable.
Kazan turned back to me.
His chest rose and fell hard, and gold eyes were bright, too bright. Blood ran from a cut along his cheek. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were still curled like he wanted to break something.
Then he looked at me.
Everything in him changed.
The violence drained away so fast I almost didn't believe I'd seen it. His face went still, but not cold. Careful. Worried.
