Page 35 of Prince of Malice

His arm blurs as it slices through the air toward my face, landing firmly against my cheek and knocking my head to the side. The searing pain runs across my entire face, rattling my teeth and making my eyes feel like they’re bulging out of my skull.

I back away from him, keeping my distance for my counterattack. I watch his footwork, the way he bounces from one foot to the next right before he throws a punch.

Using this assessment, I wait for it again, buying my time until he bobs to his dominant foot and letting him lay out another strike. Seeing it coming, I dodge out of the way, freeing myself to drill toward him from close range, cracking my fist hard against his jaw.

His entire body recoils as he stumbles away from me, his cries of pain totally drowned out by the cheers of the crowd around us.

Finally, I’ve landed a blow.

I push forward, moving close into his space and not letting him catch a break. I throw another strike, but he weaves to the side, jabbing into my gut with a punch of his own and knocking the wind out of me.

God, that hurt.

Not even giving me time to recover, he advances again, using his greater speed to throw more hits out in quick succession. A light blow to my chin, a hard drill of pain into my ribs, and finally a glancing blow off my arm. He’s not giving up, so neither can I.

Doing what I can to stand my own ground, I hold up my guard and block another two of his swings.

I’m unsure of what to do next, and the only option I have is to keep holding him back. I swing wildly, no thought or strategy, instead just blind punches in his general direction hoping to clear space between us.

The swell of my pain and exhaustion are about to reach their breaking point, and I can only throw out one or two more punches, praying they’ll land and knock him to the floor.

One wild uppercut sends me straight into his reach, earning me another punch to the temple. My next attempt at a hook has the same luck, passing him quickly and throwing me off my balance. In return, I get a hard hit to my jaw.

The next thing I feel is the coldhardwood as it goes from being underneath my feet to behind my back.

Then everything goes to black.

My eyelids flutter, my surroundings slowly blurring into view. The single light above me is blocked by a black mass of a human figure.

“Angelo?” I mutter, the words barely forming on my lips.

I feel the figure’s hands cradle the back of my head, moving their face close to mine as they inspect my injuries. “No, Dom, it’s me.” The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it while in my dizzied state of disarray. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

As I start to come around properly, the excruciating pain all over my face comes back to my senses. The burning aches feel unbearable on my skin. I squint to try and see through the low light and focus on the person’s face, but the tensing muscles of my cheeks just makes the pain worse.

“Don’t rush yourself. Take your time,” the voice instructs.

The next thing to come back to me is myspacial awareness. I can feel the presence of the murmuring crowd gathered around us, watching on at my weakened state being nursed by a stranger. I can’t look fragile in front of all of these people.

Forcing my body to sit up, my ribs scream at me to stop, but I don’t. The aiding hands of the person help me to stay upright, allowing my vision to settle back to its normal state and see the figure for who they really are.

In an instant, my sight is overtaken by the soft smile of reassurance beaming from Luca’s lips. His eyes are full of worry for me, and his hands are all over my body.

In front of all of these people.

“Get me out of here,” I groan to him.

“Can you even stand?” He throws my arm over his shoulder, readying himself to bear most of my weight.

“I’ll have to.” I struggle to my feet, falling almost immediately under his control as he guides my body in the right direction.

Stumbling my way into the locker room again, I can feel the harsh difference between the cold air and the warmth of Luca’s hands all over my torso. As gently as he can, Luca lowers me onto one of the wooden benches lining the room, allowing me to finally relax all of the tensed muscles in my body. I collapse onto the seat, my back leaning fully against the cool metal of the lockers, while Luca joins me by my side.

“Are you okay?” Luca asks, holding the side of my face as he checks over my many bruises.

“What do you think?” I groan and shift painfully in my seat to move closer to him.

Luca shows me a dorky smile. “Come here.” He holds me by the neck, ignoring my soft hiss of pain as he passes his fingers across my dark blue blemishes. Pulling my face close to his and getting a good look at my swelling eye, his gentle breath warms the cold ache on my face.

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