to react, something huge - a Breed male, easily as large as Hunter and garbed in head-to-toe black form-fitted clothing - exploded out from the closed cockpit area behind him.
Hunter pivoted with lightning speed, meeting his attacker and grabbing hold of the hand that gripped a nasty-looking black pistol. Shots rang out - one bullet lodging into the ceiling above Hunter's head, two more blasting into the interior sides of the cabin. A window popped, its tempered glass spiderwebbing around the large hole the round left in its wake. Corinne crouched behind the tall back of a leather seat, watching in a mix of terror and astonishment as Hunter chopped into his assailant's wrist with the edge of his hand. The gun dropped to the floor of the cabin, kicked away by Hunter's boot as he landed another series of similar bare-handed, cutting blows to the other male's neck and jaw. This one didn't break like the pair of guards outside the jazz club. He was a match for Hunter in size, and as Corinne stared in frantic horror, she realized that he was also equally matched in deadly skill.
The other male grabbed Hunter by his neck and slammed him into the nearby wall. He battered Hunter with blindingly swift punches to his face and skull. Hunter managed to twist out of the punishing hold. With one hand clamped down on his attacker's wrist, he wrenched the other male's arm until Corinne heard the bones crunch under the strain. Yet Hunter's attacker uttered nothing more than a grunt as he pivoted around to face him, working to get the advantage once more. Hunter didn't seem willing to let him have it. He smashed his boot heel into the side of the other male's kneecap, then delivered another hard blow to his midsection, then the side of the black-clad skull. The assailant went down to the floor, the knit head covering slipping off with the impact, baring his face.
Corinne inhaled a startled gasp.
While Hunter's thick hair was cropped close to his skull, this vampire's head was shaved totally bald. An intricate pattern of Gen One dermaglyphs tracked up around his ears and across the top of his domed head. Their color was muted, showing none of the fury and pain that would have made another Breed male's skin markings livid with deep, turbulent colors. Beneath the dark slashes of the intruder's brows, fierce gray eyes were as flat and cold as steel. He was as calm and cool as Hunter. And every bit as lethal.
Although the two of them looked different from each other, they were also the same. Both of them born assassins.
Both of them trained to kill on Dragos's command.
In the instant it took for her to realize that, Hunter had his foot aimed to come down on the other male's face. As his thigh muscles flexed and the boot heel started its hard descent, the other male rolled out of the way and launched himself toward the jet's small galley between the cabin and the wrecked cockpit door.
With his surely broken arm dangling useless at his side, the intruder reached out and pulled down a cabinet full of glassware. He whirled on Hunter, brandishing a long, glittering shard of crystal like a blade. He made a swipe, a strike evaded only narrowly as Hunter dodged aside then plowed his fist into his attacker's lower abdomen. The blow staggered him, the glass blade shattering under their feet as the struggle pushed farther into the galley. Corinne could have run out. She should have, probably. But the thought of leaving Hunter to contend with this seemingly unstoppable killer was out of the question. She crept out from behind the cabin seat, looking for some means to help him. Her talent was useless to her here. Without the aid of a steady sound wave, her ability to warp the volume of audio energy could not be summoned.
But if she could get her hands on the gun that lay only a few yards between her and the combat zone ...
She saw it too late.
Hunter's attacker was already jockeying toward it himself, fending Hunter off while he grappled with his foot to bring the weapon within reach.
They pivoted and strained, alternating blows that would have knocked lesser males unconscious. And then, in a moment that passed so quickly Corinne could hardly register the motion, Hunter's assailant made a grab for the gun and came up with it aimed squarely at his face.
"No!" Corinne's