Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(43)
Cyrus’s men attacked from different directions, and Niko spun around, blocking each strike and dodging their swings with impossible speed before countering with his own attack.
One man swiped his sword in a lateral move, and Niko bent backward, his long hair cascading behind him. Before righting himself, he swept his arm along the ground in an arc and sliced the legs of the man behind him.
A guttural scream poured from his opponent, blood streaking across the air and splattering on the wet asphalt.
When Niko was upright again, he lunged at the uninjured man with a vengeance, wielding both swords in a whirling blur and driving the man back, who could barely keep up his defenses. This wasn’t a typical skirmish between men; these were warriors.
The man with the injured legs looked up, cursing the clouds for shielding the sun and preventing him from healing. He staggered forward, holding his sword like a baseball bat, ready to swing at Niko from behind.
I screamed through the tape, trying to warn Niko.
My heart clenched as the man raised his sword over his right shoulder, his eyes wide. He was aiming for Niko’s neck, and beheading was certain death for a Mage.
Cyrus’s men could barely restrain my arms as I writhed in an attempt to break free. My eyes widened with horror as a glint of light on the blade caught my eye.
Niko was too distracted—unaware of what was unfolding behind him as he struck his opponent, slicing his arm, his side, and leaving a gash across his face. It looked as if he took pleasure in delaying the kill, and the man weakened—finally taking a step back and conceding defeat.
The Mage standing behind him swung, and all that I saw was a flash of silver.
Niko dropped to his knees, reversed his sword, and drove it into the man’s stomach. He quickly withdrew his blade and backed away from them—his hair askew, his lips peeled back.
“What’s going on down there?” someone shouted.
In the distance, a woman leaned out of her apartment window, searching through the layers of fog that moved like smoke.
“Someone’s going to call the Mageri,” one of the men hissed at Cyrus.
Niko raised his bloody sword, aiming it at Cyrus. “Tell your men to release her.”
Cyrus stepped forward and narrowed his eyes to slivers. “We’ll finish this another day, Nikodemos. It’s been a long time, and we have catching up to do. I’d like to know who taught a blind fool to handle a sword.” He stalked toward the injured man and grabbed the cuff of his jacket, yanking him up. Their hands discreetly touched as healing light moved between them. “I’ve waited five hundred years, and I’ve learned how to be a patient man. We’ll see each other again, because you know what I’ve come for.”
The men flashed out of sight, leaving behind nothing but bloodstains and a roll of tape. Niko used the end of his coat to wipe his blades clean before returning them to their scabbards.
Meanwhile, I fell to the ground like a slug, tugging at the tape that was constricting my ankles.
Niko approached and drew his sword. He carefully lowered it until it tapped against the tape, and then he sliced it apart with a gentle stroke. “They didn’t hurt you,” he said, relief in his voice.
I peeled the tape off my mouth, pulling as hard as I could to try to stretch it since they had wrapped it around my head. Niko looked nervous about his sword near my face, so I handled the tip and cut the tape in the front. He touched my head and then paced around me, feeling the large strip of tape still stuck to my hair and making downward slices with his blade.
“Who the hell carries around duct tape?” I exclaimed. “What kind of people do you hang out with?” I stood up and kicked off the last remaining strip that was clinging to my ankle.
Red marks blotted my arms, but luckily nothing had been broken.
Niko put his hand on my back and led me away from the scene. “We must go before someone calls the authorities.”
I snorted. “No crime was committed. Since when are you a master swordsman?”
“Perhaps you should have paid closer attention to the way I handled my butter knife at breakfast.”
As we neared the end of the alley, he pulled the hood over his head.
“Wait,” I said, gripping his sleeve. “Who were those guys?”
Niko turned. “How many enemies have you acquired in your short years as an immortal? Consider that I’m over a thousand years old. In time, you’ll see that this world is much smaller than you imagined. Your enemies will become shadows around every corner.”
“Who would want to come after you?”
That was a thought to ponder. Niko was one of the most sincere people I’d met, and aside from that, he was blind. How could anyone be enemies with a disabled person?
Then I had to laugh at myself when I remembered how Niko handled two swords like a man who was born with them attached to his wrists. This guy was an enigma.
“Is there blood on my face?” he asked, wiping at it again.
“On the left side.”
He cleaned it with his sleeve.
“Hey, what are you two doing in the alley? I’ve been looking everywhere, and my arms are killing me.”
I peered around Niko when I heard Gem’s bright voice and the crinkling sound of shopping bags. Niko must have heard them too, because he hefted the bags and collected them all before walking away.
Gem anchored her hands on her hips and gave me a teasing glance. “What did I say earlier about romance in the house?” She hooked her arm in mine, and we followed behind Niko.