Free Earth Warden by Mina Carter Page B

She couldn't fight them—the null against the Masters? A snort escaped her. She was mad to even consider it as an option.
    And even Hawk's weaponry would be useless against them, she realized as the warrior emerged from the alleyway at a run, skidding to a halt exactly as she had done.
    “You've gotta...”
    “...be kidding me.” She finished the sentence for him, unable to help the small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, we did that part already.”
    Hawk wasn't even half as amused as she was though, his face grim as he stepped in front of her and raised the blades in his hands.
    “Can't you lot take a fucking hint and back off?” he snarled. “I'll take on all of you if I have to, and carve you up into chunks even your mothers wouldn't recognize.”
    “Ahh, the valiant Warrior and the last piece in the puzzle,” the figure in red drawled. His voice was smug and condescending, the tone making Lyssa's flesh want to crawl off her bones and go hide somewhere safe.
    Pulling the deep hood back from his face, he smiled at them. If anything, that made things worse. A kindly looking man, he could have been anyone's uncle, father, or even grandfather—if not for that smile.
    A smile that was all wrong. It didn't reach his eyes, or at the least, it wasn't amusement or kindness that lit them. It was something darker and more dangerous. Something oily and unpalatable, evil even, which made her feel as if she needed a month-long shower just from him looking at her.
    “Good to know I'm not losing my touch. You can put those toys down, young man. I assure you, crude blades will have no effect on us.”
    Hawk snarled. Within a heartbeat, he had a throwing knife in his hand, the movement so quick it made Lyssa blink. “We'll see about that.”
    The knife shot through the air, right on target to hit the red-robed master. Lyssa caught her breath, hardly daring to believe what Hawk had done, and hardly daring to hope it would work. It couldn't be that easy, surely?
    It wasn't. With a small hand gesture reminiscent of a Jedi Knight, the Haven-master deflected the dagger, and it clattered noisily to the ground a few feet away.
    “Brave, but stupid, as Warriors have always tended to be. Luckily your numbers are easily controlled by selective breeding. A dying race now, thankfully. There are much easier ways to deal with the darkness than merely hacking at it with metal sticks.” His lips curled into a sneer.
    As far back as she could remember, he’d preached about the dangers of the Warriors, refusing to allow them into the Haven even though the old pacts granted them the right of sanctuary...and that of Hospitality, a ritual where Haven women would seek out visiting Warriors, hoping to conceive a child with greater magic running through their veins.
    Hawk didn’t bat an eyelid. Another blade appeared in his hand from the multitude about his person. This one, though, hummed with power, the wards across it blazing in the early morning light.
    Lyssa frowned and looked at him with new eyes. She’d watched him take the things off, then kit up again this morning, and she hadn’t noticed the magic about them before. And she should have. The weaponry he carried was packing a hell of a magical punch, the wards blazing like fairground illuminations if she looked in the right place.
    “Perhaps you guys could clear something up for me?” Hawk asked in a calm voice—as though they weren’t staring down their deaths in the half-dozen, grey-shrouded forms.
    “Of course. A dying man should always be granted a last request.” The Haven-master’s voice was magnanimous, and why shouldn’t it be? He’d won after all. Hawk and Lyssa were trapped with no place to go, the remnants of the Second Sigil group crowding into the courtyard behind them and cutting off any escape.
    Lyssa flicked them a fear-filled glance but they didn’t move. In fact, they didn’t even look at her but stared straight ahead with blank expressions.