Page 26 of King

One of them pulled out a chain, swinging it in a threatening arc. The leader, still standing smugly at the back, crossed his arms. “Last chance, King. Hand over the girl, and we’ll let you walk.”

King cracked his neck, his grin feral. “I like my chances, so I’ll have to pass.”

The chain-wielder struck, aiming for King’s head. King ducked, grabbed the chain mid-swing, and yanked hard, pulling the man off balance. Before the guy could recover, King delivered a brutal kick to his chest, sending him flying into a car and setting off the alarm.

The last man hesitated, his confidence visibly shaken. He glanced at the leader, who barked, “Don’t just stand there! Take him down!”

With a roar, the man charged, but King sidestepped easily and spun, back-fisting the man in the temple, knocking him out instantly.

Now, only the leader remained.

King turned to him, his expression calm but deadly. “Let’s see...six minus five leaves one.”

The leader hesitated, his bravado faltering. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, taking a step back.

King stepped forward, his presence suffocating. “Crazy? No. I’m fucking pissed.”

The leader made a desperate move, pulling a knife from his waistband and lunging at King. With lightning speed, King caught his wrist and twisted, forcing the knife from his hand. In the same motion, King delivered a sharp jab to his jaw, followed by a brutal knee to the stomach. The leader dropped to his knees, gasping for air.

King leaned down, grabbing the man by the collar and yanking him close. “Who sent you?” His voice was low, venomous.

“Fuck you!” The man spat blood just as King delivered a knockout blow to the side of his head. He knew the asshole wasn’t going to talk now.

“No, fuck you, bitch.” King growled, dropping the guy, then looked up when he heard a motorcycle in the distance. Turning, he rushed toward Amara, who was staring at him wide-eyed. Pushing her behind him again, he focused on another possible threat. Relief flooded him when he saw Ronan, Sid, Adam, and Steve flying toward them.

“Are you okay?” Amara’s voice trembled with awe as she gazed up at King. Her golden eye reflected the dim light, and her voice cracked slightly. “Your eyes… they’re so black.”

“That happens when I’m really angry.” King tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. “But I should be asking you if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, though her expression betrayed confusion. “I’m not the one who just fought six guys.”

“Holy shit, King.” Sid’s voice boomed as he stepped over one of the unconscious bodies littering the scene. His eyes scanned the carnage, his mouth curling into a grin. “You couldn’t have waited two more minutes. I would have loved to have seen this.”

“Seen it,” Ronan chuckled, looking around impressed. “I would have loved to have joined in.”

King exhaled sharply, his adrenaline still coursing through his veins, though his fangs had retracted. His gaze shifted to Amara, who was holding herself together impressively well despite the chaos. Around them, the fallen men groaned and stirred slightly. The fight might’ve been over, but King’s instincts remained on high alert.

“Well,” King said, his tone level but edged with irritation, “I’m glad you were in the area.”

“We weren’t in the area,” Steve piped up, grinning. “You can thank Daniel for us being here.”

“Daniel called me asking if I could read you and find out where you were, that you needed help.” Adam grinned, looking around at the bodies, some were now moving and moaning. “Which turns out to not be true.”

“Well, however it happened, I’m glad you guys showed up,” King said, then gave Adam a narrowed look. “Just don’t make it a habit of reading me.”

“Noted.” Adam raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking.

The mood lightened as the Warriors stepped closer to introduce themselves to Amara. Adam was the first to extend his hand.“I’m Adam,” he said warmly. “And I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Amara replied, shaking his hand. “Call me Amara. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am.”

“I’m Steve,” He shook her hand. “Joey is a good egg and one hell of a dancer.”

“Jesus,” Sid nudged Steve out of the way, taking Amara’s hand. “I’m Sid. I don’t know what the hell Steve is talking about, but Joey is going to be fine. He’s a tough kid, a fighter.”

“Do you know what a good egg means?” Steve asked Amara, who just nodded yes. “See, she knows. Joey is a good dude, a good egg. Not like you, who I would consider to be a rotten egg.”

“Steve, I’m going to scramble your damn egg if you don’t shut the fuck up about eggs,” Sid growled, giving him a sideways glare as he passed.

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