face. But he
face. But he dropped into his tae kwon do stance and shouted, “Gaby, run!”
Gaby scrambled to her feet and hesitated. She couldn’t just run out on Harris. But, no, if she could get over to the street, maybe she could flag down a cop. That’s what everybody needed just now. She turned and bolted.
Right into the old man’s arms.
He grabbed her almost tenderly, but he was a lot stronger than an elderly businessman should be. “You can’t leave,” he said, calmly, persuasively. “It’s only half a minute until—”
“You bastard.” She kneed him in the balls.
His testicles seemed to have been in good working order; he bent over with a grunt of surprise and pain, but he didn’t let go. She kneed him again, then slammed the edge of her heel down across his ankle. This time he did let go, staggering to one side. She ran.
One last glance for Harris. He was still up, his body angling back as he directed a kick against Adonis’ knee. She heard the crack of the impact but wasn’t surprised when Adonis didn’t fall or react to the blow. Harris wobbled from the exertion but was still fast enough to elude Adonis’ quick return blow.
Then Gaby got up to speed and raced toward the concealment of the trees.
Harris heard her go but kept his eye on his opponent. The thing called Adonis was big and fast, and the sharp bits on the ends of its wrinkled fingers looked suspiciously like claws . . . and Harris was still drunk. He had to stay focused, now more than in any match he’d ever fought.
Harris backed away, staying just outside the thing’s easy range, and circled around his opponent. Adonis came at him again, swinging a paw as big as a tennis