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He let out an aggravated roar of fury, then shot his silenced weapon several times into her furniture and walls. “Dammit!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling so stymied today. It was like everything was conspiring against him.

He blamed her.

Somehow, his ex was behind this, he could feel it. That bitch was making him weak. Trying to keep him from what needed to be done.

Mr. Jack heard the shots and rushed into the room, searching for an attacker. His gaze fell on Mercygiver and he instantly looked like he wished he’d just ignored the noise.

Mercygiver stared down at Oklahoma as she was sprawled on the model train platform. “Kill her, please.” He ordered.

If he couldn’t do it, then he’d have his underling seal the woman’s fate.

Mr. Jack nodded, strolling over to grab Mercygiver’s weapon and aim it at the woman.

Then he paused. “Shit… is that really Miss December? ” He sounded amazed and almost excited, like he was impressed with the woman’s celebrity.

He lowered the gun, having second thoughts.

“Umm… I have serious moral objections about killing anyone with tits like that, boss.” He shook his head.

“And she sounded like a really nice girl in her bio too. She sings in her church choir and wanted to work in a zoo, isn’t that adorable? ”

Mercygiver’s fury was boiling and searching for an outlet. And he’d just found one.

He could easily murder Mr. Jack.

He’d kill that moron, then just find some new henchmen in Thailand…

The unconscious whore’s phone rang and Mercygiver looked down at it. He didn’t recognize the name, but he got a new idea. He reached over to grab the woman’s hand, using her fingertip to unlock the phone, then immediately looked through her call history for the number he wanted.

A minute later, he was listening as his quarry picked up the line on her end.

He held the little train couple again, wondering how hard he’d need to squeeze the plastic before it broke. “Hello, Kitten.” Mercygiver cooed into the phone, feeling like his night was about to get better. “ I’m calling you out…”

****

An hour later, Mull was making her way into the back of the store. To Roy’s private office. Where all of this began.

She had received the call from Rondel and had managed to sneak out of Oz’s apartment without waking him. Luckily, he was so exhausted from his blue-ribbon performance in bed that she doubted that a fire truck parking in his room could have roused him.

Which was good. Because she didn’t want him to have any part of this.

When you came down to it… Ronnie was her nemesis. She was going to be the one to deal with him, and she’d die before she let that maniac near any more of her friends.

She’d been the one who had invited him into her life in the first place. And now she was going to end it.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t actually sure what her powers were today.

She couldn’t feel them. Just, oddly, the broken “bone vanishing” power from yesterday again, which was very strange.

She’d never had a power for more than one day before.

It probably had something to do with the power itself being so glitchy and unpredictable.

She would have preferred to wait to confront Ronnie until a day when she had some amazing ability which he couldn’t possibly stop, but the man hadn’t really given her that option.

It was either meet him or he’d kill Oklahoma and then come kill Oz.

Which was why she was here.

All told, it was a tremendously stupid move on her part. She’d fought Ronnie on more than a few occasions, and he’d absolutely crushed her every time. Plus, she still had to rescue Sydney today. And deal with whatever “train” the Agletarians were meeting .

And oversee her store’s parade, which would be starting in… she looked down at her watch… an hour.

Yes, Mull was going to have a busy day. She’d found love, had wild sex, was about to kill her ex, would soon rescue her friend, and then stop an evil country’s plans for world domination. Oh, and have Thanksgiving dinner with the rest of the Consortium.

She pushed open the concealed door which connected the store to the warehouse behind it. Roy had kept a lot of his stuff in the space, just in case he ever needed it again.

Ronnie had wanted to meet here, because he was a drama queen. That son of a bitch always leapt at the chance to do something clichéd and irritating. He was a joke.

She stepped into the darkened space and flicked her wrists, extending Roy’s telescopic batons.

In front of her, a disreputable looking dark-haired man wearing a death metal band t-shirt looked out at her from the shadows. She could only assume this was one of Ronnie’s henchmen.

He didn’t look at all surprised to see her. “Ah.” He got to his feet, no doubt to lead her to his boss. “Care to te…”

Mull didn’t have time to chat with Ronnie’s head stooge at the moment or risk him getting involved in what she wanted to be a private fight to the death. Instead, she calmly pulled out the creepy hypnotic doll she’d taken from her apartment and held it up to his view.

The man’s words trailed off, captivated by the doll’s gaze.

Mull placed the doll on one of the boxes, then stalked forward, casually decking the man as she did, knocking him out like a light.

It didn’t take her long to find Ronnie inside the warehouse, since he was sitting in the only illumination in the entire space.

The man was behind Roy’s desk, staring at her through the large window which divided the warehouse area from Roy’s office and living quarters.

His face was unreadable, but his eyes were practically glowing with fury.

He looked absolutely terrible . She’d never seen him looking so haggard and… broken.

Good.

He switched the desk lamp off. Then on again. Then off. Then on.

He repeated the process, like he was trapped in a time loop, getting angrier and angrier each time the light revealed his face.

“You break Roy’s lamp and I’m going to be really pissed.” She warned him.

Ronnie left the lamp on and got to his feet, prowling towards the door. “I respected Kilroy.” He exited the room at a full-out run, straight towards her. He’d never really been one for foreplay. “ It’s you I’m going to break! ”

She dodged to the side as he grabbed for her, and she swung out with one of the batons.

He blocked it with his forearm, then tried to punch her with his other fist.

She kicked him away, knocking him off balance, then swung the baton at him again.

This time, she scored a glancing blow, which cut the side of his head.

The impact sent him colliding with one of the large wooden crates in the warehouse, and she tried to hit him again, but he caught her wrist and stripped the weapon from her grasp.

She smashed the stock of the other baton straight down on his head, just about breaking his skull.

The man staggered away, laughing. “Nice.” He complimented, backing away to rub the wound. The cut to his scalp was bleeding, dripping down his face and giving him an even more inhuman appearance.

She charged at him, faking a strike with the baton, but really trying to hit him in his throat with her other hand.

He somehow predicted the move though, and grabbed her in a headlock from the side.

She struggled to breathe as his arm closed around her airway, then turned her head to the side, towards him, and punched him in the balls.

The man stepped back, swearing, and she tried to hit his kneecap with the weapon, but he dodged away and spin-kicked it from her hand. The baton skidded away into the darkness.

They eyed each other, hate mutual.

Then charged again.

The thing the movies never told you. When you were in a fight?

A real fight? It wasn’t an elegant thing.

There was no calm deliberation where you had time to setup complicated moves or strategies.

It was just wailing on the other guy/girl, any way you could.

A mad, violent, mindless struggle, done mostly on instinct.

That was why you trained and practiced. Why you wanted things to be second nature to you.

Because when shit went down? You weren’t thinking about a damn thing.

And all you saw was red.

They traded blows for what seemed like forever, both bloodied and getting tired.

At this point it was difficult to say who was going to win, but Mull was feeling like the fight really could have been going better.

She’d gotten much better at killing people over the years, but sadly, so had Ronnie.

Ronnie grabbed her by hair and tossed her through the plate glass window, where she tumbled across the floor of Roy’s office.

Again, despite what she’d been assuring Oz, it wasn’t like the movies.

Mull was tough, but she had no enhanced durability or strength today.

And her opponent outweighed her by a great deal, pounds which were entirely muscle and thicker bones.

She could normally win a fight against someone like this by not getting hit, but in this case, Ronnie was… better than she was.

He simply was.

He’d always been able to predict what she was going to do, somehow always knowing ahead of time. He was using that ability to his advantage today.

As it currently stood… she was going to lose this fight. And she knew it.

“You fucking bitch!” He stalked through the door of the office and punched her in the face again, making her see stars and stumble backward in an attempt to stay on her feet. “You think this is some fucking movie were an eighty pound woman can beat up a two hundred pound man!?!”