Page 92 of Protector Unmatched

“Not for you, it won’t.”

Daphne spun to her left, where the voice had come from, and felt Harcott do the same. In the darkness of the backstage area, it took her more than a second to make out the figure that had addressed them. But finally she saw him: Batman. And at his belt sat an ancient dagger.

“Hand over the dagger, boy, and I’ll let you live,” Batman demanded.

Daphne snatched Harcott’s arm. “Run! James, run!”

~ ~ ~

Zane next to him, Pearce charged into the direction of the main stage in the hall. He’d finally picked up Daphne’s communication. While in the restroom looking for Harcott, neither he nor Zane had been able to hear anything over the static in their earpieces. And a run-in with another man dressed as Indiana Jones had cost them valuable seconds.

Fear for Daphne made his heartbeat spike and his legs work harder to get to her in time. “Daphne, we’re coming,” he kept repeating into the microphone, but he wasn’t getting a response. The last thing he’d been able to make out from her was her command for Harcott to run. It could only mean one thing. But he couldn’t go down that road. No, he had to concentrate on getting to Daphne before it was too late.

“All teams to the north side of the main stage,” Zane said for the second time.

Somebody whose voice Pearce didn’t recognize over the loud music said, “ETA ninety seconds.”

One more row of exhibits, and the alley that led alongside the back of the main stage opened up to their left. Pearce charge into it, Zane on his heels. As soon as he saw a spot where the dark blue curtains surrounding the entire stage were overlapping, he pulled them apart and slipped inside. It was darker here. Stage lights were affixed on a scaffold farther in, and ropes hung down to presumably operate the curtains and lights and move other stage equipment. Various crates and boxes were scattered around haphazardly. From the stage itself, some light filtered through to the back.

Pearce pushed another curtain aside, then shock made his blood freeze in his veins. Daphne was shielding herself and Indiana Jones with Wonder Woman’s shield, while Indiana Jones lashed his bullwhip against their aggressor: Batman. Daphne’s arm was bleeding from a knife wound, and her earpiece was tangled up in her hair, explaining why she hadn’t answered him.

“He reeks of demon,” Zane said with disgust.

Pearce was already charging toward them, Zane in step with him. They lunged over a wooden bench in their way, but a movement to Pearce’s left made him snap his head toward it. Just in time, or the Klingon with the green eyes running toward him would have driven his dagger into him.

“Demons!” Pearce yelled out, having spotted a Chewbacca following the Klingon, and pivoted, gripping his dagger tighter.

“We’ll be there in a sec,” Gabriel’s voice suddenly came through his earpiece loud and clear.

Pearce ducked to the side just as the Klingon tried to stab his dagger into Pearce’s torso, and managed to kick his opponent into the side, making him lose his balance, while Zane already engaged the Chewbacca in a fight. While the Klingon gained his balance again, Pearce managed to cast a look at Daphne. She was using the shield to ward off the demon’s blows, and was losing her grip. Indiana Jones did the best he could, and though his skills with the bullwhip were remarkable, they were no match for the demon’s strength.

Suddenly the curtains moved, and Pearce was already sighing in relief, but more green-eyed Chewbaccas and Klingons stormed in.

“Shit! Reinforcements, damn it, where are you?” Pearce yelled in the mic, while lunging for the Klingon who stood between him and Batman.

“We’re here,” Enya’s voice sounded in his ear.

The blue of her dress whooshed by his right, as she was barreling toward the Wookiees and Klingons that had just joined them, and jumped over a couple of crates. Superman and Aquaman, the two hybrids, whizzed by him on the other side, attacking the demons.

Pearce punched the Klingon in his way, but the bastard was strong and didn’t even seem to feel the blow. Just beyond him, he saw Harcott stumble backward over a wooden crate and roll out of the protective huddle he’d formed with Daphne. Batman rushed toward him.

“Shit!” Pearce had to get to Harcott before Batman did.

Pearce kicked the Klingon again, and this time the beast swayed a little. Just then, Pearce saw Darth Vader approach from his left.

“Take care of him, Gabriel!” Pearce called out, and headed to the right, where he saw Batman reaching for Harcott’s belt. “The dagger!”

Somebody pulled him back and swung him around: Darth Vader. “Gabriel? What the—”

Darth Vader stabbed his dagger into Pearce’s chest. All air rushed from his lungs. With disbelief, he stared at the dark garb, then, as he slid down, he saw the chest. No pink ribbon. This wasn’t Gabriel. “Fuck…”

He crashed to the floor and turned his head to where Daphne had so valiantly defended Harcott. She was still there, still holding the shield. And she stared at Batman, who was now holding the source dagger in his hand.

Pearce reached out. “Daphne, the dagger. Get the…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t have the strength for it. His vision became blurry, his brain fuzzy. And he was cold, so cold. He knew what it meant. Still, he tried to fight it. “The dagger, Daphne…” He needed to explain it. Needed to tell her. But his virta was slowly seeping from him like the blood that was soaking his costume.

~ ~ ~

Daphne whirled her head to where, despite the loud music, she’d heard her name being called. Her heart stopped beating. Pearce lay bleeding from a chest wound, leaning against a small crate, his hand stretched out as if reaching for her, his face white as a sheet.