I remembered the froufrou feathered monstrosity in her closet, and hoped that wasn’t the kind of dress she had in mind. I protested feebly as she dragged me into yet another boutique.
If it had been just me, I’d have taken one look at the price tags and turned right back around. But Kimber on a mission was a force to be reckoned with, and I soon found myself in the dressing room with an armful of beautiful, expensive, impractical dresses.
With Kimber’s help, I narrowed it down to two choices, but I still wasn’t sure I was willing to fork over that kind of money for a party dress.
“I like the blue one best,” Kimber said. “It really brings out the color of your eyes.”
I made a noncommittal sound. The blue was, of course, the more expensive of the two choices. Obviously, Kimber hadn’t had to pinch a penny in her life.
She made an exasperated little huffing sound. “I’m going to go find something for myself while you think about it. But don’t think you’re leaving here empty-handed.” She shook her finger at me, and I rolled my eyes.
She’d been gone for maybe a minute when I heard a thud from the inside of the shop. I wasn’t overly alarmed. Not until the cameo warmed, and I felt the weird, prickly feeling. There was no way that was good news.
I quickly pulled on my street clothes—if I was going to face baddies, I’d rather not do it wearing nothing but panties—and had just shoved my arms through the sleeves of my hoodie when the dressing room door crashed open.
I let out a startled shriek and jumped back as Finn came flying through the door, crashing into the full-length mirror against the wall. The glass shattered on impact, and Finn let out a grunt of pain.
Two men followed Finn in, strolling as if there were nothing unusual going on. One of them stopped to close the dressing room door behind him, while the other advanced on Finn.
They were both tall and muscular, built very much like Finn. They also had the MIB look going, down to the dark glasses they didn’t even need outside on this gloomy day. I made a wild guess that they were Knights. And that I was in big, big trouble.
I tried a scream, because, hey, that seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time, but it didn’t seem to bother the Knights. Probably the only people who could hear me were Kimber and the shopkeeper, but the Knights would have had to go through them before getting back to the dressing room. I hoped they were okay.
Finn was bleeding from a nasty cut across his forehead, and broken mirror shards had to be stabbing him everywhere. The Knights were between me and the exit, but I made a dash for it anyway, hoping their bulk would make them slow. Unfortunately, it didn’t. One of them grabbed me and hauled me against his chest, my feet dangling. He held me to him with one arm around my chest, just below my breasts, one arm pressed hard against my throat. I tried my best to kick him, but it’s hard to get a whole lot of force kicking backward, so it didn’t seem to bother him much.
“Fight, and the girl dies,” the other Knight said to Finn, who had managed to get to his knees.
Finn’s gaze darted to me, and the Knight who held me squeezed tighter so I couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t hurt her,” he said quietly. “I won’t fight.”
The pressure on my throat eased, and I sucked in a big gasp of air. The second Knight advanced on Finn, then pulled back his leg and delivered a brutal kick to Finn’s stomach.
“No!” I screamed. Finn had been a pain in the rear, but I had no desire to see him get hurt.
The Knight holding me laughed as his partner hit Finn again. I made another attempt to wrest myself out of his grip, but I was about as likely to move him as I was to move a semi. I couldn’t even look away from what was happening to Finn, not with the Knight’s arm pressed so firmly against my throat. I could have closed my eyes, but that wouldn’t have made things any better. I’d still have heard the impact of fists and feet on Finn’s defenseless body, would have heard the grunts of pain he couldn’t help making.
The Knight hit Finn again and again, sometimes so hard I heard bones breaking. I sobbed and struggled and begged Finn to protect himself, but he wouldn’t do it. Eventually, he couldn’t.
Finn lay face down on the floor, and if it weren’t for the painful sound of him gasping for air, I’d have thought he was dead. The Knight who’d beat him smiled and pulled a long, thin knife from a sheath hidden in his boot.
“No!” I wailed, although I knew it would do no good. “Why are you doing this?”
The Knight knelt at Finn’s side, and even behind the dark glasses, I could feel his eyes locked on mine. His smile was cold and cruel, and I saw nothing even remotely human in his face.
“Leave Avalon,” he said to me. “Leave, and never come back. Else, it will be you next time.”
I screamed as he raised his hand, then plunged the knife into Finn’s back. Finn cried out and tried to move. I realized with horror that the knife had pinned him to the floor.
The Knight who was holding me finally let go, shoving me to the floor. Their feet crunched on broken glass as they left the dressing room.
Horrified, I made my way to Finn’s side, heedless of the glass. The knife hilt protruded from just above his right shoulder blade, and blood poured from the wound. He was still breathing, though, the air sawing in and out of his chest. I put my shaking hand on him, not sure what to do for him. I’d nursed my mom through a couple of drunken accidents before, but nothing remotely like this. Should I pull the knife out, or would that make things worse?