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I allow that thought to drive me as all nine of the remaining men charge toward me.
My mind races through all of the possibilities of how this fight will go. Who will make what move, and what are the odds I have of making it out of here alive?
I’m betting on the house tonight, and I’m all in.
With lightning-fast movements, I pull out my throwing stars and hurl them toward two of the men, killing each of them in a single blow.
Maybe they were forced into this,Zai’s voice insists.Maybe they had no choice.
But everyone has a choice. I made mine, and maybe someday I will pay for it just as these men are now.
A knife comes flying my way, and I duck away from its trajectory before snatching the hilt out of the air. Then I spin around and plunge it into the gut of the man trying to sneak up behind me. His blood sprays on my face, coating my vision crimson.
All I see is blood. It seeps its way into my soul and stains every last inch of me.
Six to go.
One tries to flee out the back door, and I fling another of my stars.
Make that five.
I tell myself the world is better off without them. They’re terrible people.
Is anyone really all bad?
“Shut up, Zai!” I yell the words out loud, and the men surrounding me pause.
Stupid of them, because I use that distraction to aim a kick at one’s groin while throwing a fourth star at one to my left. They both go down, though only one of them is still breathing.
Time slows as I lift my dagger to end his life. My breaths are coming too quickly again, and I try to pace them with the steps of the four hulking men closing in on me.
Am I turning into Damian?
The thought makes me stumble.
Maybe I’m there already. I shake my head and blink my eyes. No. I’m not as bad as he is, taking innocent victims at random. At least these men deserved to die.
Do you really think you get to make that judgment?This time, it’s only Remy’s voice condemning me.
Yes,I answer.
This justice is all I know. It’s the only way to balance out the scales of all the things I’ve done.
I carry that thought with me, allowing it to fuel me on.
One of the men swings a blade to my left and I dodge away from it, just not quickly enough. The steel scrapes across my thigh. It stings like hell, but at least it isn’t deep enough to do any real damage.
With my other leg, I land a kick on the man’s jaw, sending him flying backward. He hits the corner of the table with a loud crack before falling to the ground.
He doesn’t get up again.
My heartbeat roars in my ears, making it nearly impossible to hear anything else. Not the breaking of glass when one man shatters a bottle of whiskey on the edge of a chair before he hurls it at me. Not the furious screams of the man with the red face, charging toward me. Not the curses forming on the lips of the third and final man left standing.
And certainly not the sound of my blade as it slices neatly through each one of their guts.
It takes me several breaths to realize there is no one left standing to fight. The roaring in my ears shifts into a ringing until I can make out the sounds of a man groaning in pain behind me.
Slowly, I turn around to face him, but he’s lying on the ground, clinging to his groin. I don’t hesitate before I throw my blood-stained dagger at him, effectively cutting off the noise.
Nausea crashes over me like the waves of the ocean on a stormy night. Whether it’s for the blood I’ve spilled or the realization that I could do this every night for the rest of my life and it still wouldn’t matter, I’m not sure.
I have just enough humanity left to drip the bottle of fluid that keeps the fire from spreading in a circle around the edges of the wall.
Then, I douse the building and light the bloody thing on fire.
That’s one good thing about the drug houses, at least. With all those chemicals, they’re quick to go up in flames.
