So I pushed back at the black spots and focused on breathing. It took me a moment to realize that I'd managed to hang on to the knife while he'd been hitting me, and I tightened my grip on the bright, shiny silver handle, ready to use it on him the second that I got a chance.
But Zeke didn't give me one. He was in a rage now, and he drew back his boot to kick me in the ribs. I barely managed to reach for my Stone magic in time to keep him from caving in my chest with the vicious blow. And he didn't stop.
Again and again, he lashed out at me.
I lay there and let him hit me, cradling the knife in my hand and trying to hide it as much as possible. I didn't really have another option. I needed the knife to kill him, and if he realized that I still had it, he'd kick it out of my hand and keep on beating me until I ran out of magic.
Then he'd do the same to Sophia and the kid, and I couldn't let that happen.
Finally, after about three minutes of whaling on me, Zeke ran out of steam. He gave me one more vicious kick to the side."That'll teach you, you little bitch," he growled again.
I lay limp and still on the floor, as though he'd long ago knocked me out with his attack.
Zeke finally snapped back around to Sophia, who hadn't stirred the whole time. He focused his angry glare on her for a moment before turning to the boy.
"As for you two," he snarled, "you're both turning out to be more trouble than you're worth. And now I have to carry you all by myself."
Zeke kept grumbling as he leaned down and grabbed Sophia's shoulders again. Then he started dragging her around the counter and down the aisle. But he wasn't taking her anywhere. Not if I could help it.
I waited until he had reached the end of the counter and was trying to figure out some way to keep the double doors open long enough to shove Sophia through to the other side.
Then I climbed to my feet and staggered after him. Every movement, every breath, hurt, but I put my hand against my ribs, gripped my knife even tighter, and hurried after Zeke as fast as I could. Lucky for me, he was having a hard time with
Sophia's dead weight and the doors, so he was moving slowly.
He'd just managed to prop her up against the side of the counter when I crept up on his blind side and stabbed my knife into his back. But he was even bigger and stronger than his partner, and his punches had weakened me. So the knife didn't sink all that deeply into his muscles. I pulled it out, but before I could stab him again, he turned and punched me in the chest.
This time, I went down on the ground, and I didn't get back up. It hurt too much to do that.
Zeke loomed over me. "You are one determined little bitch, aren't you? Seems to me like someone should teach you some manners."
He reached for me, and this time, I knew that he wouldn't stop hitting me until I was dead. But the thought didn't feel me with dread. If anything, I got a sense of peace. At least, this time, I'd tried to do something. At least, this time, I'd tried to help, instead of cowering on the stairs and watching Mom and Annabella disappear into balls of elemental Fire.
That was something, I supposed -
A hand clamped around Zeke's ankle and yanked him down. I blinked, and it took me a moment to figure out what had happened. Sophia had finally woken up.
Zeke put his forearms out in front of him, breaking his fall, but he still went down on his hands and knees. Sophia scrambled to her feet, then threw herself onto his back, driving him into the floor. He arched back, trying to throw her off him, but she slapped his hands away, grabbed his head, and slammed it into the door on one of the stoves. The giant kept fighting, but Sophia kept her grip on his head and beat it into the oven - again and again and again - until the metal dented.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
She kept up a steady, furious rhythm, dashing his head against the oven door, as though she wanted to shove it right through the metal, each blow seeming a little harder and more brutal than the last.
Finally, after about the sixth or seventh time, something crunched , and the coppery stink of blood filled the restaurant. The giant quit struggling, and his muffled cries vanished altogether, although his arms and legs kept twitching with small, disjointed spasms.
Sophia leaned back and rolled off him, breathing hard.
She swiped her black hair out of her eyes, leaving behind a dark stain on her face - blood.
By this point, I'd managed to get back up onto my knees, although I had the knife speared into the floor as I used it to help hold myself up. Sophia noticed me watching her, grimaced, and dropped her hand, as if that would hide the fact that she'd just caved in a man's skull with her bare hands.
Against Fletcher's favorite stove, no less. Then her black eyes flicked over me, and she noticed the knife that I was still clutching and the blood that covered me too.
Sophia turned her head, looking for the other giant. Her eyes widened, then narrowed when he didn't appear, and she realized that I'd killed him.
"Not soft," I said, my voice coming out in a hoarse wheeze that didn't sound all that different from hers.
Sophia looked at me, her dark eyes almost sad. "No," she rasped. "Not soft anymore."
A low moan sounded in front of the counter. It took me a second to realize that it was the kid. Sounded like he was waking up.
Sophia got to her feet. It took her a moment to find her balance, but once she did, she leaned down and held her hand out to me. I took it, and she gently pulled me up. I wrapped an arm around my bruised, aching ribs. Sophia gently put her arm around my thin shoulder. Together, leaning on each other, we staggered around the counter and over to the kid- The rest of the memory abruptly faded away. At first, I wondered why, but then I realized what had woken me out of my dream.
Someone was dragging me through the mud.
Chapter Twenty-four
Apparently, I'd managed to pull myself far enough up onto the bank to keep from drowning. And now someone had put his hands under my shoulders and was pulling me the rest of the way up and out of the water.
I lashed out with my fists and legs, trying to get him to let go of me. But instead of being dropped, I felt a body slide down next to mine in the mud, and a pair of arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I kept fighting, kept struggling, but I was weak, and he was stronger than
I was.
After a moment, I realized that I wasn't being hurt, that whoever this was held me close and let me beat at him with my hands. I breathed in, and a rich, familiar scent filled my nose, penetrating the last fragments of the dream and my disjointed ride through the rapids.
I let out a breath. "Owen?" I asked in a low, tentative voice.
He drew me even closer, and I felt his hand gently slide through my tangled hair. "It's me," he whispered.