As she carved and slashed her way through the inductees, she found herself keeping a second eye on John and . . . holy hell. He was one slick fighter.
Who seemed to specialize in snapping necks. He was lethal for closing in behind the enemy, grabbing on and then with brute strength--
The blow came from out of nowhere, catching her on the shoulder and sending her spinning into the wall, her knife popping from her hold as all kinds of Looney Tunes stars bloomed in her vision.
The slayer who had hockey-checked her lunged forward and nabbed her dagger from the bloody living room floor, palming the weapon and coming at her with it.
At the last minute, she bobbed left so that he stabbed the wall she'd hit, trapping the blade in the Sheetrock. As he went to try to get the thing free, she whirled around and nailed him in the gut with her backup blade, springing a hole in his lower intestines.
Meeting his shocked stare, she said, "What, like you didn't think I'd have a second knife? Fucking idiot."
She punched him in the head with the butt of her backup, and as he crumpled at the knees, she unsheathed her primary from the plaster and faced off at the fray. As grunts and smacks resounded around the house, she shifted through the fighting to find what was being unattended to--
One of the slayers was flying through the front door, on a bolt for the great outdoors.
She dematerialized out of the house and right into his path. As he went Three Stooges and pinwheeled to a stop, she smiled. "No, you may not be excused."
The lesser took off again and headed back for the fight--which was stupid because there was no one who would help him in there. Well, not to survive, that was.
Her body was lithe and strong as she burst after him and the two of them came around in a fat circle. Just as he got to the door, she leaped into the air and took him down in a flying tackle, catching him around the neck and shoulder and wrenching him around, using the combination of her strength and her trajectory to crank the guy into a living, breathing question mark.
They landed hard, but even as the air punched out of her lungs, she was smiling.
God, she loved a good fight.
John saw Xhex flash out the front door, but he couldn't go after her because he had a pair of initiates so far up his ass he was coughing on their eyebrows. But he was going to take care of the crowding PDQ.
Funny how when your female beat feet into the night on her own you got an extra burst of energy--
Not that she was his female.
Funny how reminding yourself of something like that made you mean as a snake.
Reaching out to the slayer in front of him, John snapped the bastard's neck clean off the top of his spine. As he bowling- balled the head, he thought it was a goddamned pity there wasn't time to do the same to the kid's arms and legs--so he could beat the other one senseless with the stumps.
Unfortunately, number two had just grabbed John around the chest and was trying to bear-hug him into hypoxia.
John palmed those wrists and locked the fucker in place, then pivoted around, jumped up, and pulled a straight horizontal in midair. They slammed onto the ground with John on top and the slayer putting the L-E-S-S-E-R in mattress. Rearing upward, John smashed the back of his head right into his opponent's face, turning that nose into a geyser.
Quick flip and John raised his fist high in the air.
His second strike caused a round of twitching, which suggested the guy's frontal lobe was having serious electrical transmission problems and the bastard was now in seizure-land.
Wasn't going to be any trouble as he waited for Butch to come at him. John lunged for the doorway that Xhex had dematerialized out of, his shitkickers skidding on the blood that was now running both rusty red and glossy black.
Just as he came to the open doorway, he caught himself on the jambs.
It was the most spectacular tackle he'd ever seen. The lesser she was chasing was gunning back for the house, having obviously rethought his escape strategy, and he was hauling balls, his bare feet screaming over the frosty grass. Xhex, however, was closing fast, triangulating an interception that was possible only because she was stronger and more focused than the former human.
John didn't have time to intervene even though he wanted to: Xhex jammed into the air, springing up and stretching out for the lesser. She clipped him right around the waist and winged him around, pasting him on the ground and slicing the backs of both his thighs so deep he screamed like a girl.
She dismounted and was ready to go again--
"John! Behind you!"
As she shouted at him, he swung around and got faced by a slayer, the guy bull-rushing him right out the door. John landed on his ass, skidding back on the crappy concrete walkway.
Which proved why you needed to wear good leathers.
Dermabrasion much?
Pissed off that he'd been parked on the front lawn with Xhex playing witness, he grabbed the hair of the slayer and yanked the thing into an arch that would leave the guy's spine humming like a motherfucker.