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Scorpion Honey, 3/?
Date: 2012-03-14 02:51 pm (UTC)Moore squared her shoulders and tramped down a surge of cool fear. “No.” A moment’s pause, and she was struck with sudden inspiration. “I’m on my way to meet my fiancé. He’s a King.”
One of the men laughed. She had expected them to see through her ruse, but she wanted to avoid a fight, if she could. She knew she could take them, was outnumbered and in unfamiliar territory. They moved towards her, and she recognized a clumsy attempt at a flanking position. “He should pick you up next time, doll. There’s bad men out there.”
She shifted into a defensive stance. They were close enough that she could see their rotted teeth and smell the alcohol and sweat clinging to them.
“But not us, baby girl.”
Moore’s hands clenched at her sides, fisting in the pretty fabric of the useless dress. She caught a flash of steel in the leader’s hands.
“Yeah. We’re nice. Real nice.”
Moore didn’t hesitate. She buried her fist in the biggest man’s stomach, and he staggered back with an ‘oof’ of surprise. The look of utter shock on his face was so sweet that she smiled, despite herself.
Her Ranger training took over as one of the men lunged for her. She twisted out of his way, and his momentum carried him into the wall of the building. He stumbled away, clutching his head and howling in pain as blood streamed down his face.
The biggest man recovered from the punch she’d thrown his way, and he advanced towards her, hands outstretched. She dropped and swept a leg under him, losing a shoe and knocking him off his feet before he had a chance to grab her. His head connected with the pavement, and he went still, sprawled limply on the cold street. Moore didn’t even notice. She was back on her feet in an instant, the blood roaring in her ears.
She turned to face the leader. “Real cute,” he spat. “Your fiancé teach you that, bitch?”
He slashed at her, and she danced away from the knife and out of the man’s reach. She squared her shoulder and barreled past him, her eyes fixed on the open mouth of the ally. He shrieked obscenities at her back, but she barely heard him. She ran down the street and made a dozen blind turns, and she somehow found herself back at the Strip’s North Gate.
She’d lost her other shoe somewhere in the maze of Freeside. She put a hand to her arm and it came away bloody. She realized with a jolt that the knife had made its mark, leaving a jagged red line from her elbow to her shoulder. All at once, the adrenaline left her system.
The ground pitched and shifted under her feet. Moore staggered and nearly fell when a feminine arm caught her around her waist.
“You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”