Probably cancerous, you know. Eating away at your tissue and bones until there will be nothing left, and your arm will drop off, leaving you looking like a wingless chicken."
He growled at me, but I caught him trying to rotate that arm enough to see his elbow while trying to keep the knife steady at the same time.
"Women hate chicken men, you see. Too bony and not enough meat."
"Shy!" Meat hollered over his shoulder, distracting me from my ramblings.
"What?" I pivoted to keep pace with him.
"Leave! Now!"
"Nope. I'm not leaving you at the mercy of these idiots. Not when I can do something to even the odds. In fact, you might consider conjuring a weapon for me. Hmmm. Maybe a sword?"
He shuffled just enough so I could catch the expression on his face. Anger along with a healthy dose of weary acceptance. "You'll stab me or end up cutting off your own toes."
"Well, okay. How about a gun?"
"No." His eyebrows furrowed.
"Taser?"
A brief shake of his head gave me the answer.
"Well, drat. How am I supposed to defend your back with no weapon?"
"You aren't. Go now, or I swear…"
Meat grabbed for me. Both men took advantage of the distraction to jump in. I pounced for the man with the Taser, catching him in the groin with a quick kick. Meat reached around me for the other attacker, grabbed the man's wrist, then began to deliberately twist, keeping the knife pointed away from me the entire time.
Glancing up, I found Misha directly ahead about ten feet away, leaning against a pallet of wrapped up boxes, her nail care momentarily forgotten as she looked on.
Catching sight of the Taser as the man bent over, I lunged for the weapon. The man held tight, refusing to relinquish his tool. I stomped his toe and whapped him in the throat for good measure. His grip remained strong and unbreakable. Meat shoved me hard, sending me heavily into Taser man. We thumped hard on the floor and rolled, scrambling for possession of the Taser. A second later, we came to an abrupt halt. My finger hit the trigger, and I heard a yelp.
Misha toppled over.
Well, drat. I hate it when that happens. Well, not so much this time .
"Bitch!"
The guy pulled his fist back as he scrambled to his knees. I belly scooted, but not quick or far enough.
Just before his strike landed, Meat grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him up, and slammed him facefirst into the nearest crate. The guy bounced off, fell to the floor, and didn't move afterward.
I stood up, dusted my pants off, and took appraisal of the situation. Hairy mole lay in a crumpled mess. Taser man breathed, but didn't even flinch. Misha flipped back and forth from human to kitty at an amazing speed on the concrete floor.
"I so didn't need to see her naked."
Meat walked over. Blood soaked one arm, and he breathed heavily. Besides a thick layer of dust, some scrapes, and the wound, he appeared fairly intact.
His stern expression, however, gave me pause. Irritation was clearly written on his face. Directed at me, judging by his molten cobalt blue eyes.
I slinked over to Misha's side. Kneeling down, I waited a minute to make sure she picked a form to stick with in her switcheroo game before pulling her spotted cat head in my lap.
Meat's large feet stopped beside me. I didn't bother to look up as I repositioned Misha's head so she didn't drool down the front of my jeans. I didn't care for her drool to begin with, let alone down the crotch of my new favorite pink pair.
"Why in the hell didn't you do as you were told?" His quiet tone belied his angry body language.
"You… I…" I stopped and grappled for an answer.
Silence.
"I couldn't stand by and let you get hurt," I answered truthfully.
He squatted down until he met my gaze on an even level. The uninjured arm reached out to pull my chin up, not allowing me to look away. "You could have been killed. They could have used you as a pawn against me. Or you could have distracted me enough that they were able to strike a deadly blow." The words rumbled
He growled at me, but I caught him trying to rotate that arm enough to see his elbow while trying to keep the knife steady at the same time.
"Women hate chicken men, you see. Too bony and not enough meat."
"Shy!" Meat hollered over his shoulder, distracting me from my ramblings.
"What?" I pivoted to keep pace with him.
"Leave! Now!"
"Nope. I'm not leaving you at the mercy of these idiots. Not when I can do something to even the odds. In fact, you might consider conjuring a weapon for me. Hmmm. Maybe a sword?"
He shuffled just enough so I could catch the expression on his face. Anger along with a healthy dose of weary acceptance. "You'll stab me or end up cutting off your own toes."
"Well, okay. How about a gun?"
"No." His eyebrows furrowed.
"Taser?"
A brief shake of his head gave me the answer.
"Well, drat. How am I supposed to defend your back with no weapon?"
"You aren't. Go now, or I swear…"
Meat grabbed for me. Both men took advantage of the distraction to jump in. I pounced for the man with the Taser, catching him in the groin with a quick kick. Meat reached around me for the other attacker, grabbed the man's wrist, then began to deliberately twist, keeping the knife pointed away from me the entire time.
Glancing up, I found Misha directly ahead about ten feet away, leaning against a pallet of wrapped up boxes, her nail care momentarily forgotten as she looked on.
Catching sight of the Taser as the man bent over, I lunged for the weapon. The man held tight, refusing to relinquish his tool. I stomped his toe and whapped him in the throat for good measure. His grip remained strong and unbreakable. Meat shoved me hard, sending me heavily into Taser man. We thumped hard on the floor and rolled, scrambling for possession of the Taser. A second later, we came to an abrupt halt. My finger hit the trigger, and I heard a yelp.
Misha toppled over.
Well, drat. I hate it when that happens. Well, not so much this time .
"Bitch!"
The guy pulled his fist back as he scrambled to his knees. I belly scooted, but not quick or far enough.
Just before his strike landed, Meat grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him up, and slammed him facefirst into the nearest crate. The guy bounced off, fell to the floor, and didn't move afterward.
I stood up, dusted my pants off, and took appraisal of the situation. Hairy mole lay in a crumpled mess. Taser man breathed, but didn't even flinch. Misha flipped back and forth from human to kitty at an amazing speed on the concrete floor.
"I so didn't need to see her naked."
Meat walked over. Blood soaked one arm, and he breathed heavily. Besides a thick layer of dust, some scrapes, and the wound, he appeared fairly intact.
His stern expression, however, gave me pause. Irritation was clearly written on his face. Directed at me, judging by his molten cobalt blue eyes.
I slinked over to Misha's side. Kneeling down, I waited a minute to make sure she picked a form to stick with in her switcheroo game before pulling her spotted cat head in my lap.
Meat's large feet stopped beside me. I didn't bother to look up as I repositioned Misha's head so she didn't drool down the front of my jeans. I didn't care for her drool to begin with, let alone down the crotch of my new favorite pink pair.
"Why in the hell didn't you do as you were told?" His quiet tone belied his angry body language.
"You… I…" I stopped and grappled for an answer.
Silence.
"I couldn't stand by and let you get hurt," I answered truthfully.
He squatted down until he met my gaze on an even level. The uninjured arm reached out to pull my chin up, not allowing me to look away. "You could have been killed. They could have used you as a pawn against me. Or you could have distracted me enough that they were able to strike a deadly blow." The words rumbled
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