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The punch landed so hard I thought my skull had cracked. My vision exploded in white-hot pain, my ears ringing like a goddamn fire alarm, drowning out everything else. For a split second, I wasn’t even standing in that school hallway anymore, I was nowhere, floating in pain and disorientation, the taste of blood thick in my mouth. My nose burned, ache spreading across my face as I stumbled back, barely keeping my footing. My head swam, and my knees nearly buckled, but the rush of pounding footsteps from the hall forced me to stay upright.
Before I could blink through the blur, I heard Tina’s curse cut through the noise. “Fucking puta madre….”
The woman who had hit me stepped fully into the hallway, and even through the dizziness, I recognized her instantly. Clarissa. She stood poised, her body fitted into a sleek black bodysuit, the kind women in action movies wore to fight like they were on goddamn wires. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her eyes locked on Dominic and the boy in his arms. She didn’t look surprised. No, she looked determined, like she had already won this fight before it even started.
Dominic’s low groan came from beside me. “Who the fuck is this again?” His voice was strained, breathless, sweat pouring down his face as he clutched Adam against him. His shirt was damp with it, his entire body trembling from exhaustion and injury, but still, he forced himself to keep moving.
Clarissa launched at him. He barely had time to react, his muscles twitching too late as she swung, but instead of taking the hit, he twisted at the last second, slamming his back into the wall to dodge. The force of his own movement wrung a grunt from his throat, and I knew that wound under his shirt was screaming at him, probably tearing open with every move he made.
Adam reacted exactly how any ten-year-old in his position would. The moment Clarissa moved, he flinched violently, his body going rigid, eyes wild with pure, unfiltered fear. And then, as Dominic gritted his teeth through the pain, Adam let out a sharp, panicked sob, his small fingers clutching desperately onto Dominic’s sweat-soaked shirt. His body trembled so violently it was like he was about to vibrate right out of Dominic’s arms, his breath coming in short, choked gasps. He buried his face in Dominic’s shoulder, trying to disappear, his fingers digging so hard into the fabric that his knuckles turned white.
I wiped at my nose, the warm slick of blood smearing across my wrist as my head pounded like a war drum. My heart was slamming into my ribs, so fast and hard it felt like I might throw up, but I forced myself to focus. Clarissa was a liar. A manipulator. And I wasn’t letting her near that boy.
“You’re a fucking liar,” I spat, my voice raw and filled with rage. “A manipulative, self-serving—”
Before Clarissa could even turn to me, Tina launched herself off the wall. It happened so fast, I barely caught the blur of her movement before the sickening crack of impact filled the air. Her foot connected with Clarissa’s nose so violently that the woman stumbled back with a gasp, blood already dripping from her nostrils.
I stared, stunned, but Tina barely paused. She landed with a graceful, catlike precision, then clicked her tongue and kissed her teeth in frustration. “Puta,” she hissed, the word cutting and furious. Then, switching to heavily accented English, she glared at Clarissa and snarled, “You fucking bitch.”
And then the fight truly began.
Clarissa recovered fast, lunging forward, her fists flying. Tina dodged, her body moving with an unnatural smoothness, like every movement was calculated before it even happened. The way they fought was too similar. The sharp, lethal efficiency of it, the way they anticipated each other’s moves. It made my skin crawl. Who the hell was Tina?
Clarissa feinted left, then struck out with a brutal kick, but Tina countered instantly, blocking it with her forearm before slamming her elbow into Clarissa’s ribs. The crack echoed in the hallway, and Clarissa barely withheld a wince before swinging again. Fists connected with flesh, sharp grunts and gasps filling the space between them.
We didn’t have time for this.
Tina must have realized that too because the next time Clarissa’s fist sailed toward her, she ducked low, then twisted around, slamming a knee into Clarissa’s stomach. As Clarissa staggered back, wheezing, Tina turned to us and shouted, “Go! I’ll hold them off.”
I hesitated. Just for a second. I could still hear the pounding footsteps of Alaric’s men getting closer, but my eyes stayed locked on the fight, on the blood already staining the hallway floor.
Tina shot me a glare, dodging another wild swing before hissing, “Fucking go, Eleanor!”
Dominic barely spared a glance back, his body quivering under the weight of the child, but his voice was steady when he said, “If you can make it to Bethesda Terrace in ten minutes, you can leave with us.”
The men rounded the corner.
Tina’s eyes snapped to them, then back to me. She bared her teeth in something between a snarl and a grin before screaming, “GO!”
And this time, I did.
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