Luke swooped down on the monster holding his children. He was silent, quick, and utterly merciless.
The man died quickly and bloodlessly – except for the blood Chavva had managed to draw. Luke didn’t want the children spattered in gore.
A second attacker almost ruined that resolution. The bastard jammed a shortsword between Luke’s ribs, aiming for his heart.
“Unh. Icarus, grab your sister. Do you have a knife?” He grabbed the blade with both hands and stepped back away from it. “Jasfe tlacatl, bastard in the underhill.” The boy nodded, and managed to get it out of his boot. PJ’s and boots – good boy. “Back against a wall, kids. Watch out for each other.” He moved his body to block the attacker from the kids and pushed, shoving the hilt of the blade through the bastard.
“Anyone else?” He bellowed it to the sky. He was angry, now, damnit. “Bring it on, you bastards.”
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