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The woman went limp in Alex's arms, but he didn't have the time to rejoice she wouldn't come back yet again to threaten him and Tristan. He pulled the knife out of her head and spun blocking the coming attacker. The flick of her eyes had warned him, then the quiet shuffling had told him how far behind him he was.

Alex had expected to block an arm, but it was a polycarbon stick with a sparkling end. It was held by a lanky man. Alex smiled. He remembered making a promise to this man.

Three slashes across the arm and the baton clanged to the floor. The man reached for a gun with his other hand, but it was slow and clumsy. He'd never trained to use both hand in fighting. Today wasn't going to be the day he learned.

Alex waited for him to pull it out, then cut the man's tendons. His hand went limp, the gun fell out of it. The man tried to protest, but he was shut up by the knife through the jaw and brain, just like the woman who'd been such a pest. Unlike her, when the men fell back Alex let go of the knife.

He closed his eyes and listened for any other combatants. The room was quiet, some movement in the distance, but no threat. He began calming down, the fighting was--

He opened his eyes. Light steps behind him. Someone was trying to sneak up. He spun and pulled a knife to replace the one he let go. The person backed away with a scream and Alex followed. The shape said woman. He slashed at her, cut her clothes but she was quick, light on her feet, too scared now to even try to defend herself.

A voice from far away, deep, full of authority, but not a threat at the moment. It was approaching, but he still had time.

She backed against the wall hard enough she yelped, then her eyes grew wide and Alex's smile broaden. She knew she was dead. He began the slash that would end her life, but spun at the last moment, redirecting it at the new threat.

A man, large, muscular, in black. Fast too. He moved out of the way, grabbed Alex arms and flung him away. Alex rolled, got back to his feet, grabbed a knife from his belt to replace the one he'd dropped and came at the man fast.

The man blocked and dodged. He said something, but Alex let the sound flow through him without listening. They weren't important. Killing this latest threat was all that mattered.

The man was good. An expert. Alex barely managed to connect at first. But little by little, he felt his blades bit into flesh, and he pressed harder.

Something nagged at him. Something was wrong with the fight. It wasn't proceeded as it should. He had the feeling he shouldn't be winning it. Why wouldn't he win a fight? He always did.

No, that wasn't true, there was one person he never beat. But if he was fighting him, it would be over already. He'd be on his back, not about to cut his--"

"Alex, stop." The anguish in the voice cut through the fight.

Alex stopped, more out of surprise then to obey. He had his knife at the man's throat; at Tristan's throat. His eyes were filled with fear, pain, desperation.

Alex let go of the knife and backed away. "I--" How had it come to this? He couldn't hurt him, it was the reverse. Tristan was the only one allowed to hurt him, to kill him. How had he almost killed Tristan?

Alex wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn't come. He couldn't look away from those deep brown eyes. Why couldn't he see anger in them? He disobeyed Tristan. Those other words, the ones he hadn't paid attention to, it was him ordering him to stop. They'd never failed to cut through the fight before. He obeyed Tristan in all things. He always did.

Fear.

Tristan looked at him with fear. How could that be?

He didn't want him to be afraid. It took a step forward and Tristan jerked back. He recoiled.

What was going on?

He opened his mouth, he was going to comfort him, tell him he had nothing to fear, Alex hadn't betrayed him. Whatever this was, it wasn't that. He never would.

The words began leaving his mouth when stars exploded around him. He reached back for whatever had hit him. He caught sight of someone, but the world kept spinning, and then it turned black.