"You want something?" the giant finally growled.
"You need to take a hike," Phillip said. "I know what you're here for, and I'm telling you to forget it. I'm the only person killing Gin Blanco tonight."
Stuart blinked. His blue eyes flicked to where Richie was still hiding behind the Dumpster. He waited a moment, but the dwarf didn't appear, so Stuart let out a weak laugh and opened his mouth.
"Don't bother denying it." Phillip cut in, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Am-scray, pal. Before I hurt you a lot worse than that bouncer did."
Anger sparked in Stuart's gaze, and he looked at Phillip, taking in his muscled chest and solid body. After a moment, he snorted. "You? Take me out? I don't think so, pal. I'm a giant, in case you haven't noticed. And you're not."
Phillip grinned. "Actually, I don't know what I am. Giant, dwarf, human, maybe a mix of all three. But that won't stop me from kicking your ass. This is your last chance to walk away. I suggest that you take it."
"Forget it." Stuart poked his finger in Phillip's chest. "I suggest that you walk away before I kick your ass all the way up and down this street."
Phillip poked Stuart right back, making the giant take a step back. Meanwhile, Richie slid out of the shadows and started sneaking up on Phillip's blind side. The dwarf was moving more quickly than I thought he would, and I realized that I wouldn't get to my friend in time to keep him from getting hit.
"Phillip!" I yelled, even as I started to run toward him. "Behind you!"
Phillip hunched down just as Stuart took a swing at him. He easily managed to avoid the giant's blow, but Richie raced up behind him and planted his fist in Phillip's kidneys. Phillip grunted and swung back with the hammer he was still holding, causing the dwarf to jump away from him. As soon as Phillip drew the hammer back for another swing, Richie darted forward again, driving his fists into Phillip's side and making him stumble forward into Stuart. The two men went down on the ground beside the car.
Richie started to draw his foot back to level a vicious kick at Phillip, but the dwarf's head turned at the sound of my footsteps pounding against the pavement. He whirled around as I charged at him.
"Nobody gets in the way of one of my jobs," Richie hissed.
"We'll see about that," I hissed back at him.
I raised my hammer and brought it down as hard as I could, trying to cave in his skull with one brutal blow. But Richie snapped his arm up and caught the weapon in his beefy hand.
He smirked at me. "Now whatcha going to do, tough guy?"
I slammed my fist into his face. I wasn't as strong as the dwarf, but I could throw a decent punch. The blow made Richie stagger back, although he managed to jerk my hammer out of my hand and take it with him. The weapon slid out of his fingers and clattered to the ground, sliding to a stop beside the car.
Meanwhile, Phillip struggled with Stuart, the two men exchanging vicious punches and rolling around on all the oil, dirt, and mud gathered on the pavement.
"Not my shirt!" Stuart wailed. "This is my lucky T-shirt!"
"Shut up," Phillip muttered, and punched him in the face again.
In front of me, Richie regained his balance and brought a hand up to his lip, which was bleeding. He spat out a mouthful of blood and raised his murderous gaze to me once more. "You made me bleed. You're going to pay for that."
I flexed my fingers. "We'll see."
Richie charged at me, and I stepped up to meet him.
Smack!
Smack! Smack!
Smack!
We exchanged punch after punch after punch. Richie led with a glancing blow to my chin. I landed a solid one-two combo to his chest. He retaliated by driving his fist into my stomach.
It was the last blow that made me double over and gasp for air. I'd been punched by a dwarf before, but Phillip had been right when he'd said that Richie was stronger than most of his kind. It felt like someone had dropped a lead anvil on my stomach.
But Richie wasn't done with me. The dwarf surged forward, dug his fingers into my hair, yanked my head back, and punched me in the face. He hit me again and again, until the world spun around and around, and white stars exploded over and over in my field of vision.
I was aware of my legs sliding out from under me and my ass hitting the pavement.
"Owen!"
I thought I heard Phillip yell my name, but I wasn't sure, given the way my ears were ringing right now. One thing that I did know, I had to find some way to fend off Richie, or the dwarf would beat me to death.
Richie drew back his leg. I jerked to one side, and his foot slammed into the driver's door of Finn's car, leaving a dent. The dwarf cursed and hopped around, howling with pain. I got up on my hands and knees and started crawling away from him -
My fingers brushed something hard and metal lying on the ground, and I felt a wave of magic flowing into me. I focused on the cold, hard, unyielding feel of my own power, and the soft, soothing whispers of the silverstone. After a moment, my vision fully cleared, and I felt stronger than before -
A hand dug into my shoulder and threw me against the side of the car. I slumped back down on my ass, although this time, I managed to hang on to my hammer. My hand closed around the handle, and my fingers slid into the worn, smooth, familiar groove.
"Time to die," Richie hissed, his mouth curving up into a bloody smile.
I waited until he leaned down to punch me, then I raised up the hammer and hit him in the head with it as hard as I could.
Crack.
All the movement in Richie's body just stopped, like a toy that had had its battery ripped out.
I pulled the hammer out of the dent it had made in his skull, and the dwarf pitched forward without another sound, his blood spattering all over me and his body sprawling across mine. I shoved him away and slowly got to my feet. A few feet away, Phillip was raising his own hammer high and bringing it down on Stuart's throat. He didn't need my help. He rarely had, even when we were kids.
I looked at the bloody end of the weapon in my hand. Maybe I should make Gin a hammer instead of another set of knives -
Clack-clack-clack-clack.
It took me a moment to realize that someone was running toward me in what sounded like a pair of high heels. I whipped around, and then I wished that I hadn't, as the movement made my skull start pounding even worse than before.
"Gin?" I mumbled, wondering if she'd somehow seen the fight and come to help.
But it wasn't Gin who was racing toward me. It was Sierra, the waitress.
She stopped right in front of me. Since I'd last seen her on the dance floor, she'd put a red leather jacket on over her black bustier, and a matching red purse dangled off her right shoulder.