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I’m a lioness who’s fixing to take charge of her pride and chew her way through her enemies. Starting with him.
Luca
Matteo,Julius, and I split off from the others as we come to the entrance that is attached to this side of the hallway. There are two other entry points that the other groups will be coming in from. Roundman and Danza plan on taking the center doorway that’s smack dab in the middle of the auditorium they're using for auctions, and Gunner and Master will be rounding things off by coming in through the entranceway on the opposite side of the one we’ll be passing through.
We’ll be taking them on separate escape routes giving them no way to flee.
As far as we are aware of, there are no other exits needing to be covered. However, seeing as there are tunnels that aren’t on the blueprints, there could be secret passageways we know nothing about.
“What. The. Fuck?” A robust voice calls out, echoing through the corridor. I twist on the balls of my feet and my eyes connect with those of Graham.
“Hammer!” I cheerfully shout, snaking my tie through my fingers. “Just the man I was looking for. How kind of you to show yourself to me.”
“Doc, the hell?” Looks like the cat’s got the formidable Hammer’s tongue, rendering him near speechlessness, he doesn’t get the concept that anyone could double-cross them. “You a spy?”
“Graham, I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Matteo. We grew up together, he’s one of us,” I state, cackling, because I love pulling the rug out from underneath someone’s feet. Especially when they’re unsuspecting chumps.
“Can we stop chatting, and dance already?” Julius asks, interrupting my shoot-the-shit gameplay. “Get outta the way and let me end this piece of shit. The others are waiting on us, we’ve stalled long enough.”
“He put his fingers on Mera,” I growl, clenching and unclenching my fists into balls. “He’s admitted that to me, therefore, he’s mine to deal with. I’ve got this, you and Matteo go and assist the others.” The very second those last words are released from my mouth—all hell breaks loose from the venue. “Go.”
Julius pauses for a minute, checking me over to make sure I’m still firm and steady on my feet—always the big brother. Showing him that I’m good, I start bouncing on my toes, my energy level isn’t as hefty as it normally is, but I’m full of pent-up hostility that needs a conduit, and ol’ Hammer is the perfect target for me to let that angst fly.
“Take him down quickly, Luca. Mera’s gonna need you, you don’t have time to draw it out like you normally do,” Julius advises, raising his brow.
Staring at Graham, I ask, “Is Garrick as bossy to you as Julius is to me? Older brothers, am I right? Always ruining our fun.”
“That’s because we’re older and wiser,” Julius snorts as he and Matteo rush to the door and fling it open. “See you in a bit.”
“I’ll be there. Don’t have too much fun without me,” I call out.
“I make no promises,” Julius retorts as he and Matteo disappear through the frame of the doorway.
“You heard the man,” I tell Graham. “I’ve gotta make this quick.” I careen my fingers back and forth at him in a come-hither motion. “Sorry, this may hurt…a lot.” I tauntingly grin. Graham’s breathing becomes labored, his face contorts to one of a challenger… good, I love a challenge and hate it when they simply roll over and play dead.
When he digs his feet into the tile floors and lunges my way, I bend my knees and crook my elbows, getting into a defensive stance. He hits me like a battering ram, but I’m prepared so my body sways, but he doesn’t take me down like he intended to. My brain shuts down and my years of training kick in. I get lost in the zone, as he throws punches, I block them. My forearms are stinging from the power behind his hits, but I ignore the pain and instead revel in it, letting it spur me on and empower me. Pain has always reinvigorated me, I’m able to tone it down and instead, draw it into me and use it against my opponent.
“Come on, you can do better than that,” I tease, rallying his combativeness. Surely, with his reputation, this isn’t all he has to offer. How boring. “You’re hitting like a girl.”
I’m still bouncing on the balls of my feet, swiping out with my palm and slapping him across his face as I circle around him. He becomes more surly, his eyes tracking my spirited pattern, which reminds me, it’s time to switch things up a tad. I duck when his left arm swings outward, and then I weave when he rotates his body kicking his dominant leg through the air in an attempt to take my knees out from beneath me. In the meantime, his vision never stops tracing my steps and he continues oscillating his torso, following my upbeat lead. I’ve always had an extra spring in my step when I find something excitable, and it’s no different when I’m fighting—it’s my happy place, my slice of paradise.
As I’m dismally going through how uninspiring Hammer is, one of his hits lands on my jaw, forcing my head to turn sideways. He backs off, proud of himself. I spit blood out of my mouth from where the skin connected with my canine, landing at his feet. A thrill of enthusiasm strums through me, now, this has become a real fight and I’m all in. My tie loosens from my fingers and dangles flaccidly from the tips like a lasso.
A voice I’d know anywhere rings throughout the foyer. “Luca! Help.” Mera’s scream of terror captures my attention, and I know it’s time to end this.
It’s time to play hangman.
“Looks like your woman is going home with her new owner,” Graham laughs, enjoying the fact that she’s being dragged down the stairs that lead outside.
“Then it’s time to let my obstacle stop standing in my way, hm?” I quip, tapering my eyes into thin, narrow slants. I zone in on my archenemy and attack. My movements are swift, precise, and distorted. “Did you know that my favorite game to play is hangman?”
His sight takes in the suspended necktie as I begin to whirl it limply through the air, a tactic I use as a distraction. As he’s transfixed on the motion, I torpedo from my feet and tackle him. My best moves are on the ground, it’s easier to wind my silk weapon around their throat as I choke the breath out of them. He counteracts my move with fluidity, flipping around midair and descending on his belly so he can place his hands and knees beneath him to make it easier to lift upright. I predict what he has planned ahead of time and make sure they’re pinned securely underneath him by crash landing on him and not flaking my weight. I bear down on Graham, lifting his legs and anchoring them between mine. When I have a choke hold on them with my thighs and know he’s not going to get out of it, I start working on gaining control over his upper body. He’s like a damn wiggle worm, every time I think I’ve got a leg up on him, he slithers out of my hold.
Slimy bastard.
We struggle for what feels like hours, it’s like riding a bronco horse. Finally, I get my tie beneath his chin and grab the ends with my right hand. As I pull, his face turns molten red, and with his arms tethered he can’t get his hands up to give my lock on him any slack.
“You won’t get what you want here,” he wheezes. “I refuse to give you the pleasure of ending me.”
