The instant the first man entered, he was greeted by a heavy blow to the back of his neck that sent him sprawling face first into the floor. One down. The second man only had enough time to let out a yelp of surprise at his companion's abrupt downfall before Cardin's kick caught him in the jaw, sending him flying backward out the still-open door.
By this time, the last three men had had enough time to realise that they were under attack, and charged forward over their fallen friends. But they smelled of liquor, and moved ponderously, and Cardin had no difficulty evading their advances, drawing back into the darkness of the interior.
However, he couldn't avoid being flanked as one of them swung straight at him several times. Cardin ducked, and then, seeing his opponent's strength wane after several effortful exertions, moved in close. With one arm curled up tightly to shield the side of his head, he caught the hook on his shoulder, and, before his opponent could wind back for the next punch, landed a precise and forceful step-kick on the man's knee. There was a snap as the leg broke at the fragile joint, but the man only had a moment to howl his pain before another kick to the side of his face made him tumble aside, unconscious.
Just as his foot returned to the ground, Cardin found himself being yanked in by a thick arm that wrapped tightly around his neck. He choked, but almost immediately twisted his body to throw his elbow sharply back into his assailant's chest, rapidly repeating the gesture until the man huffed and his grip loosened. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Cardin to grab the offending arm, using it to leverage his opponent's weight as he planted his feet wide. Bending forward, he threw the man over himself such that he bowled straight into the fourth man, who was coming in fast. Before they could stop groaning and reorient themselves, two quick blows to their temples knocked them out cold.
Breathing heavily, Cardin contemplated the four unconscious men. He needed to set the bar on fire as soon as possible before anybody else came, but he wasn't about to burn these men to death along with it. Just as he was wondering how best to manage them, a strong white light shone in, blinding him.
The light was streaming in from the door, and it seemed to be coming from a torch. Someone else was there. Cardin heard a low laugh before the torch clicked off, and the person began to slowly applaud. His vision still dark from the sudden glare, he strained to make out the masculine silhouette that entered with a soft step.
"... Keary?"
The man stopped. "I'll forgive you this once because of how dark it is, but please never offend me by mistaking me for that piece of trash ever again." The voice was deep and smooth, with a polished accent, but there was an edge of hostility in it. Most importantly, it was decidedly not Keary's.
Even as Cardin bristled at the man's words, his heart sank. Whoever this stranger was, he was definitely not on their side, not when he spoke of Keary with such insult. He needed to complete his mission and get out of here as quickly as possible.
The mysterious man drew in a loud, deep breath, cutting through Cardin's racing thoughts. "Ah, nothing quite like the smell of fresh gasoline to get the adrenaline pumping," he sighed as he drew closer. "You're new. You weren't there last night. How's Keary doing?"
"He's fine." Blinking hard to clear his eyes, Cardin carefully backed away from the approaching man, trying to maintain the distance between them. Something about the stranger, despite his casual tone and relaxed stance, made Cardin's skin prickle, and he desperately hoped he could leave without having to fight against him.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," the man said. "I was sure I had managed to inflict quite some damage. But then again, vermin are almost always rather hard to kill."
Cardin stopped.
The man with the morningstar.
The memory of Keary, bruised and bleeding, the deep gashes shredding across his arm and body, rose in Cardin's mind, and along with it, a spark of anger.
"It was you. You were the one who attacked Keary."
The man continued to advance, kicking lightly with a well-polished shoe at the can of gasoline which Cardin had set down earlier when he had prepared to attack. The blonde could now see the man's features: enigmatic hooded eyes, and a sharp nose leading down to thin lips that were curved upward in a smile. He had a good build, and was perfectly-fitted in a three-piece suit and tie under a knee-length winter coat. He would have been quite handsome, except for the chill in his gaze that belied the humour in his smirk.
"Of course." The stranger's tone was matter-of-fact. "As it should be. Somebody needs to collect payment for all his sins."
The spark of anger kindled. "What gives you that right?"
"If a man doesn't avenge his family, who will?" The man's smirk widened, but his eyes flashed as he came closer still.
Cardin paused. "What's your grudge against him?"
The man's gaze hardened. "That doesn't concern you. But he will see justice someday. I'll make sure of it. And you," he observed the golden-haired boy, "you should really reconsider the kind of company you're keeping, my young friend. Someone like him… well, the world would be a much better place if he were dead, wouldn't it?"
Stiffening, Cardin growled, "Don't you dare touch him."
The stranger stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he regarded the boy before him. The expression lasted for just a moment before another smile broke slowly over his face to reveal two rows of impeccably straight, white teeth, a smile that made the hairs on the back of Cardin's neck stand on end.
"Oh my, such loyalty," he murmured, as he began once again moving toward Cardin. "It makes me wonder: why haven't I seen you before? Has he been keeping you locked up all this while? It's such a pity, when you clearly fight so well. Could it be that he's been saving you?"
Unsure how to respond to the sudden turn in the man's thoughts, Cardin backed away. He could sense that all the malevolence towards Keary was somehow now focused directly onto him. Unbidden, the memory of Keary's harsh words whispered in his mind:
He would devour you.
"I don't need to lay a finger on him to make him pay," the stranger continued. "In fact, you've reminded me that death is too quick a punishment for him. Helplessly watching someone close to him, especially such a sweet-looking subordinate, suffer because of him… now that would be poetic justice."
Without warning, the man shot forward. Before Cardin had time to register what was happening, he felt himself slam into the wall, hard. Winded, he tried to gasp, but found his breath cut off by the vice-like clamp around his throat. Automatically, his hands flew up, fingers desperately scrabbling to loosen the hold on his neck. But the man merely leaned in, dark eyes glinting.
"Ohh, that's a nice miserable face. If only he could see you like this. Now…" his grip tightened, "how badly should I mess up dear Keary's little pet?"
Even as the edges of his vision darkened, the flame of anger inside Cardin flared. Straining, he rasped, "I'm not a fucking pet!"