Mila stepped back, all the way to the door while Victor sprang forward but Dawson had other ideas…he went for Kimber.

Victor watched in horror as Kimber tried to dodge out of his way, her hands bunched into fists, pummeling the fucker as he crowded her in the corner. Victor’s entire being filled with raw, unadulterated hatred and wrath like he’d never before felt for another living being. He wanted nothing more than to rip Dawson apart but he had to take care…had to ensure he didn’t hurt Kimber. He couldn’t risk that…he’d rather rip out his own heart than hurt her.

“Fuck!” The roar that tore free from him was tortured and filled with terror for his wife, while he felt her fear seeping out of her and flowing towards him.

Flint darted to his side, two deadly daggers in his hand, and his eyes pinned on the struggle before them. “Trust me, Victor…please, just trust me.”

Victor glanced at his friend, watched as he raised his hands and knew Flint was about to launch those razor sharp blades. Flint looked at him briefly and Victor gave him the go ahead. “Do it. I trust you, Flint. Make them count.”

Flint turned his full attention back onto Dawson and Kimber who was still struggling. His friend’s attention intensified as his eyes flashed briefly with loathing, and then his hands let his weapons fly. Victor watched as they arced through the air with a speed only Flint could garner from his blades, over and over they glided until they found their targets. One hit Dawson in his shoulder, sinking right up to the hilt, and the other was a bullseye on his neck.

Dawson jerked back, roaring and snatching at the blades to tug them free…hell, they must’ve been dipped in silver…but he’d released Kimber, and she made a dash for freedom while Dawson was otherwise engaged.

“Get her to safety.” Victor pulled her behind him.

Mila rushed to take Kimber from the room.

Now that Kimber was gone, Victor could concentrate on the perpetrator of all the attacks. The person who’d hurt Flint…Kenzie…Kimber. Who was behind the attack on Quinn and Amaya. Who’d tried to hurt their guests, who was behind everything.

“Let’s do this,” Flint growled, stalking toward the man who was already healing before them.

Dawson held Flint’s weapons in his hands and threw them before either Victor or Flint could stop him. Dawson was fucking fast…before they knew it, they were embedded in Flint. One in his belly and one in his thigh. Fuck. Flint howled, as he went down. Blood pouring from both injuries. The dagger in his gut came out quickly but the one in his leg did not.

“It’s in my fucking bone.” Flint snarled, tugging on the handle of his own weapon furiously. “Just end this fucker, Vic.”

Victor couldn’t waste time helping him, so he focused back on Dawson. The man was sniggering like a schoolboy who’d heard his first dirty joke, one hand covering his mouth while his other held his belly. “That’s funny. Taken down by his own silver blade.”

Victor couldn’t take anything further from this guy, and he harnessed one of his abilities, building it up, building it…and finally, he launched a bolt of pure white power straight at Dawson. It caught the man off-guard and right in his chest which sent him flying up and back into the wall. His clothes were burned off completely, leaving his skin bare…or what was left of it. His chest was burned raw, showing his ribs in several places.

Dawson fell to the floor, gasping and moaning, but he wasn’t down…or out.

His head flew up, and he came back with something Victor wasn’t expecting. An ability of his own…which showed he was as old and powerful as he was…a bolt of flames came straight for Victor. Dropping down, Victor tried to avoid the direct hit but it still caught him, burning his shoulder and left arm. It hurt like a fucking bitch, causing a roar of pain to erupt from him and echo around the room.

Again, Dawson laughed manically, which pissed Victor off. The guy was just crazy…or insane…or both.

Dawson hauled himself up, bared to the bone chest and all, his face white but looking ready to harness more flames. Victor couldn’t allow that. If he was encompassed in fire he’d be out of the game until he’d healed…or worse. That would leave Flint at the mercy of this fucker, and Victor couldn’t tolerate that so he did the only thing he could; he charged Dawson.

Using every last ounce of energy he had, Victor sped across the room to barge into the madman. His body rammed against Dawson, his hands grasping the man around his throat as they crashed against the wall…shattering the oak paneling and crumbling the stone beneath. Shards of wood and pieces of rock fell over them as they grappled, his foe’s face bloody as he writhed and bucked to break free.

Victor’s injuries stung painfully. The stench of his burned flesh caught the back of his throat as he opened his jaws wide and released his fangs. He couldn’t give Dawson a second longer because if he did he’d strike back with fire, so he attacked…diving forward and tearing at the man’s throat with deadly precision. Victor tore his head back and took Dawson’s neck with him, spitting it out with disgust as his blood spurted everywhere and his hands shot to cover the wound.

At the same time, Victor released one of his own hands, pulled it back and glared into his eyes, spitting into his enemy’s face. “Now you die.”

His arm shot forward so fast that Dawson never saw it coming. Victor drove his hand right into his chest, seeking, and finding, his target. As soon as his fingers closed over the cold, dark heart, Victor snarled viciously. He destroyed the organ with one crushing blow, wrenching it free to drop it on the floor at Dawson’s feet.

Victor released the man and stepped back, watching as he crumpled to the floor. He looked like any other corpse. Small, weak, and insignificant. Yet he’d caused so much fear and heartache. Sorrow and anxiety to those he loved. For a split second, Victor wished Dawson was still alive, so he could kill him all over again…this time slowly and more painfully.

“Hey, can you fucking help me?” Flint growled up at him. “This ain’t budging. It’s stuck tight, and I need a hand here.”

Victor spun around to find his friend sitting up, hands covered in blood and still trying to pull the blade from his thigh.

“Sorry. Here, let me.” Victor kneeled down, looked at the handle which was slick with Flint’s blood and tugged his friend’s jacket forward to clean it. “It’s too wet with your blood. My hand will just slide right off it. Hold on.”

Once he’d cleaned the dagger, he held onto it tightly and looked at Flint. “Ready?”

“Yeah, just do it.”

“On three, one two.” And he pulled hard. The blade was stuck tight, and it took him a second or two to get it free but finally it popped out, with Flint not muttering a sound.

“Thought you said on three?” Flint grumbled, holding a hand out for him to help him up.

“I did.” Victor smirked, tugging him up.

“Thanks.” Flint shook his head. “You should learn to count…if you can’t get to three.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” Victor grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place. “Thank you. For what you did earlier. If you…”

Flint pulled away, canting his head to the side and giving him a frown. “Don’t you dare, Vic. Brothers. You’ve said it to me before, and I’ll say it now. We’re brothers and we do whatever we can for each other. Kimber was in danger. Plain. And. Simple.”

Victor’s throat closed up. Completely. So he nodded back to the man he called brother, the one whose hands he would place his life in…and the man who he’d die for.

Flint returned the action then grinned at him. “We’re both banged up a bit. I don’t know about you, but I could use a fucking drink.”

Victor couldn’t agree more…the only other thing he wanted right then was Kimber in his arms, so he could check she was unharmed.

“Let me go. I need to see he’s all right.”

“I will, once I’ve checked it’s safe.”

The first voice was Kimber’s…and the second was Mila’s.

“What’s happened here?”

And that was Ace. The cavalry had arrived…finally.

He and Flint walked to the door and met Mila, who was peeking inside. Her inquisitive eyes taking in the mess and Dawson’s dead body as well as their wounds.

“Hmm, do you want a hand with those?” She waggled her hand first at Flint’s bloody injuries and then at Victor’s burns.

“You can do that?” Flint queried, frowning and not looking too convinced.

Mila stepped inside quirking a perfectly arched eyebrow and cocking her hip. “Are you questioning my abilities, Flint? Or just outrightnsulting me?”

“Hmm…neither?” Flint backtracked with a cocky grin.

“Good, because I wouldn’t be happy if you were. Now, do you want my help, or do you want to suffer until you can suck down enough blood to heal yourselves?” She paused dramatically, tapping her toe and also her chin with a painted fingernail. “Hmm, decisions, decisions. I know which one I’d choose.”

“You can fix me up right now,” Victor said. “I’d rather Kimber not see me like this.”

“Good choice.” Mila turned to him, grinning for a brief second before her hands started to do the magical dance in the air he’d seen her do earlier.

Her lips moved but he could hear nothing as she worked. This time, a soft blue hue surrounded her before she opened her arms wide and it made its way toward him. Victor held his breath as it closed in on him, wondering what it would do or if he’d feel its effects once it hit him. Would it be painful? Would it…and then it covered him, and he felt…nothing. Not a dang thing before the cloud dissipated. When he looked down at his shoulder and arm it was completely healed with not a sign of the burned and charred flesh that had been there.

“Well, what can I say but thank you, Mila.” Victor reached over with his hand to feel the flesh that was visible through the holes in his clothes. His skin was unmarred, and he felt no hint of pain whatsoever.

“You’re welcome.” Mila turned to Flint. “What about you?”

“I’m in.” Flint held himself stiffly as if he expected to be attacked while Mila carried out the same healing spell on him. When it was done, he felt himself all over, not just where his wounds had been, as if he expected the magic to have affected him somehow.

Mila shook her head at him, sighing. “I’ve not done anything to you other than heal you, Flint.”

“I’m just checking.” Flint felt himself again before he gave her the thumbs up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll take it.” Mila turned on her heel and left while Kimber and Ace rushed inside.

“Are you both all right? There was a lot of noise, Victor! I heard you release your power and I could smell burning flesh, but Mila wouldn’t allow me in. She said we could get in the way and cause you both to get hurt if we did.”

Ace was looking around the room, taking in the devastation and the body lying on the floor. “We’ll need the decorators in.”

“We’re fine.” Victor held open his arms and Kimber fell into them. “I’m more concerned about you, baby. Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Kimber held onto him tightly for just a brief second before stepping back to look him over. When she saw his burned and charred suit she fingered the material and scrutinized the skin beneath. “What happened and how have you healed so fast? What’s going on, Victor?”

“Dawson had powers too. He could release fire bolts, but it’s okay, Mila helped us out and healed us. We are both just fine.”

Ace whirled around to check them out then back at Dawson’s corpse then back at them again. “Shit. I’m glad you two are okay and I’m sorry he got past me and my men. I’ve no idea how he did it.”

“He was using magic to hide their trail here and also to block our attacks. He might have used it to get inside as well. He’s dead now but I think you should check out everyone, Ace. Just in case. The waiters and waitresses…make sure everyone is legit.”

“On it. And I’ll let Quinn know about Dawson. He’s back in the Hall. The others were getting antsy wondering what the hell was happening when you rushed off. He went to let them know what was going on and to keep everyone calm.”

“I need a change of clothes and then we’ll be back.”

“Really?” Kimber looked at Ace then back up at him. “Shouldn’t you rest or something?”

“I’m fine and we should go back, baby. Let everyone see that we’re both okay and put their minds to rest. Kenzie and Amaya will be worried, but so will everybody else, and they deserve to know that Dawson is dead.”

“Kenzie!” Flint shot for the door. “I need to go guys. I need to change too and get to her. She can’t see me like this.”

“See? Our friends will be concerned, Kimber. We have to go back.”

“You’re right. As usual. Let’s go.”

“No. Ace, can you take Kimber back while I go and change? I’ll be much quicker on my own and you can let Kenzie know we’re just changing and be with them shortly. She’ll be very worried…please. Go set her mind at rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. And you can get a stiff drink and something to eat if you need it. Ace, can you take care of her for me? I won’t be long.”

“I will guard her with my life.” Ace’s chest puffed out and he waved his hand to the hall. “I’ve got my men out there too, so she’ll be safe with me.”

“I doubt that’ll be necessary but thank you.” Victor pulled Kimber back into his arms, kissing her softly. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t be long.” She turned and left with Ace and he whisked away to change, hoping they’d seen the last of any trouble.