Chapter 23 Mattie #2
"He had enemies," the bald one agreed as he took another step forward.
He was now close enough that Mattie could smell the sweat and aggression wafting from him.
"But none of them would have dared to kill him.
Tarik wasn't a lone wolf. He had us, and we don't let one of ours be murdered without retribution. "
"Then maybe it was someone stronger and with a larger group of friends. Someone who didn't care about consequences."
"Or maybe..." The bald one's gaze shifted to Mattie, his eyes roaming over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Maybe somebody didn't like Tarik sniffing around his little pet or touching her."
Mattie's throat constricted. She couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stand frozen as the predator's attention fixed on her.
The bald one turned to Dimitri. "Funny. You stabbed Tarik with some kind of poison, and the four of us had to pull him off you before he could tear your head off. We shouldn't have, and we are here to correct our mistake."
"I had nothing to do with Tarik's death. I'm just a human. How could I have overpowered him?"
"You had a motive, and you are smart. You might have cooked up another poison, something more potent, and stabbed Tarik from behind."
"That's an interesting theory, but totally false. I didn't do it."
The bald guy tilted his head as if he was baffled by something. "For some reason, I can't get into your head, so I can't verify what you're saying. Why can't I get into your head?"
Mattie's hand crept toward her pocket and the phone Dave had given her. If she could just get it out, press the button, summon help—
One of the other immortals had noticed her movement, lunged forward, and grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough to make her cry out. "What have you got there, little girl? A weapon?"
"Let her go," Dimitri commanded, his voice turning low and dangerous.
"Or what?" The immortal holding Mattie's wrist laughed. "What are you going to do, human? Stab me with a syringe?"
He twisted her arm, forcing her to her knees. Pain shot through her shoulder, and she couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her lips.
"I said let her go."
"And I said—"
Dimitri moved.
It happened so fast that Mattie barely registered the beginning before the middle was already unfolding.
One moment, Dimitri was standing beside her, tense but still.
The next, he had ripped the immortal's hand off her wrist and driven his fist into the man's face with enough force to send him staggering backward.
The other immortals reacted instantly, their casual menace crystallizing into coordinated violence. They came at Dimitri from three directions at once, moving with the speed and power that made their kind so terrifying.
Somehow, Dimitri met them head-on despite not being a fighter. But she knew that he wouldn't last long, and when they overpowered him, they were going to kill them both.
Mattie scrambled backward, her injured wrist cradled against her chest, and her other hand reaching into her pocket. She found the phone, but her fingers were shaking so badly that she could barely grip it, and when she pulled it out, it slipped from her grasp and tumbled to the ground.
"No!"
She dove for it, her knees hitting the pavement hard, her hands scrabbling across the rough surface. The phone had landed face down a few feet away, and as she reached for it, a boot came down hard on her outstretched fingers.
She screamed.
"Going somewhere?" The bald immortal stood over her, his face bloody from where Dimitri had landed a blow, his expression murderous.
He bent down and scooped up the phone before she could react. His eyes widened as he examined it.
"Where did you get this?"
Mattie couldn't answer. The pain in her crushed fingers was overwhelming, stealing her breath, making stars dance at the edges of her vision.
"I asked you a question." The bald one grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him. "Who did you steal this phone from?"
"It was given to me," she gasped.
"By whom?"
Before she could answer, a new sound cut through the chaos of the fight.
Boots pounding on pavement. Many of them.
The bald immortal's head snapped up, his grip on Mattie's hair loosening as he turned toward the sound.
The Eight came around the corner like a wave, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization, their faces blank and their eyes fixed on the scene before them.
They didn't run, they flowed, a single entity expressed through multiple forms, and the sheer wrongness of their unified movement made even the immortals fighting Dimitri pause.
"What the—" the bald one started.
He never finished the sentence.
Number Two reached him first, moving faster than anything Mattie had ever seen. One moment the monster was standing over her, and the next, his body was flying through the air, propelled by a blow that hadn't even registered as motion.
The rest of the Eight converged on the remaining immortals with terrifying, coordinated power. Number One grabbed the soldier who had hurt Mattie's wrist, and Number Four tackled another, wrestling him to the ground. Numbers Five through Eight surrounded the last two, cutting off any escape.
And then the killing began.
Frozen and unable to look away, even though the excruciating pain was blurring her vision, Mattie watched as Dave systematically destroyed the four males who had attacked her.
The immortals tried to fight back, but they were as outmatched against Dave as she and Dimitri had been outmatched against them.
The Eight moved as one mind, their enhanced bodies moving faster than her eyes could track, but she heard the snapping of bones as fists collided with ribs and punched through, and she saw the hearts being ripped from chests.
One. Two. Three. Four.
It wasn't a fight.
It was an execution.
The bodies fell, crumpling to the ground with the wet, heavy sound of meat hitting pavement. Blood pooled beneath them, spreading in dark rivers across the stones.
Mattie couldn't breathe. Could only kneel on the bloody ground with her crushed fingers cradled against her chest and watch Dave's killing spree.
Number One turned to look at her. "You are injured." His voice was calm, almost gentle, completely at odds with the carnage surrounding them.
Mattie couldn't answer. Her voice had abandoned her.
Dimitri dropped to his knees beside her, his hands reaching for her but hesitating, not knowing where to touch without causing more pain.
"Mattie, look at me. Are you okay?"
She turned her head slowly, meeting his eyes. He was bloodied all over, but the cuts and bruises were already healing. He looked not only unharmed but fierce and energized, like he had enjoyed the fight.
Was he turning into a monster like them?
"My fingers," she whispered.
He looked down at her hand, at the swollen, misshapen digits that had been crushed beneath the immortal's boot. His face went pale, then flushed with fury.
"Those bastards."
"She will heal." Number One crouched beside them, his movements smooth and unhurried despite the bodies cooling mere feet away. "They will not."
Dimitri looked up at the enhanced soldier. "How did you get here so fast?"
"The phone." Number One held up the device that he must have retrieved from where the bald immortal had dropped it. "Mattie called me."
"I didn't," she whispered. "It fell out of my hand."
"It was programmed to speed dial me. The fall must have triggered it. The moment I saw your name on the display, I knew you were in trouble. Luckily, I was not far from here."
"Luckily," she repeated, turning toward what that luck had wrought.
"Don't look," Dimitri said, turning her face away from the carnage and pulling her head against his chest. "Don't look at them."
But she'd already seen enough. She would always see the four bodies, the four hearts, and the four lives that had ended in seconds because they had wanted to harm someone Dave cared about.
Number One straightened and pulled out his phone, his movements calm and businesslike as he dialed. "We need cleanup at the docks. Four bodies for disposal."
He paused, listening to whatever response came through.
"No, there is no need for investigation. The matter has been handled."
Another pause.
"Understood."
He ended the call and looked down at Mattie and Dimitri with an expression that might have been concern or might have been simple calculation.
"You need a doctor to fix your hand."