"Nick," I breathed through my surprised gasps. "What are you doing here?"

"Other than it being my store? I suppose I can ask you the same thing." The grin remained on his face as the light from the streetlamps outside flickered over his face. His eyes shimmered with something that could only be compared to sheer delight, but I had no idea what we so gleeful in our current situation.

"Where's Mac?"

His grin faltered. "What is it with the two of you and always insisting on knowing about the other's current location?"

I glared at him. "He called me. He told me to get here because I was worried about you. Now where is he? I heard you two talking."

"Ah." He nodded. "I thought I heard someone come in sooner, but alas, I was a little preoccupied. And Mac, well," Nick chuckled. "He's a little tied up."

My gaze darted towards the now-opened door of the backroom, but of Mac there was no sight or sound. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing... yet."

His tone made me whip my head back to his direction, but I wasn't fast enough.

The marble statue of the Goddess came crashing down into my temple and it sent me sprawling across the floor, sending the sword flying from my hand across the room. Stars danced behind my already poor vision, and I had to close my eyes to keep the nausea at bay as I tried to climb to my hands and knees.

"What did you think you were going to do?" Nick asked as he walked towards me. "Save him? Do you have any idea who he is?"

I hissed as I brought a hand to my head - I could feel the warmth of the blood beginning to trickle down my skin.

"The bastard should have learned to leave well enough alone," Nick went on, stopping before my huddled form. "But no- I couldn't move on and start over. He had to pack up and follow me here, and you couldn't leave well enough alone."

He kicked my thigh at that, and it knocked me back down to my side against the hardwood floor.

"Everything would have been fine, Siobhan. Everything would have worked out perfectly. New home, new store, new employee. New unexpecting city. It was almost too easy."

I blinked away the haze as I listened to him. "What?"

Nick continued on as if he hadn't hear me. "Leo an unfortunate casualty, the poor guy. Great drinks, nice ass, but he started asking too many questions, and I got bored. Mr. Johnson, however- he deserved what he got."

"What did he ever do to you?"

"Other than being a nosy, homophobic bigot?"

"He was not-"

Another kick connected with my side and I wrapped my arms around myself to assuage the pain in my ribs. I couldn't breathe and words escaped me as he kept talking.

"Did you like the Tarot cards? I had a feeling you would. Though not necessarily done for you, of course. And I couldn't help but borrow a couple from your deck- now I know why everyone loves it so much!"

He was rambling like a madman, but it gave me enough time to try to get my bearings. "Nick... what did you do?" I asked hoarsely

It was almost as if he'd forgotten I was there. His talking ceased and his attention was focused down at me. I saw him crouch down, arms resting on his thighs as his head tilted to the side as though he was assessing my current situation.

"Didn't you hear a word I just said?"

Before I could answer, a strong hand came to the back of my head and gripped my hair hard. I yelped out in pain, tears streaming freely down my cheeks, as he began to stand and made me move with him.

"I pushed Leo out his window," he snarled through clenched teeth. "I carved a star so deep into Mr. Johnson, his guts looked like fireworks. And now I'm going to burn a hole straight through Mr. Scotland and make you watch before I hang you like you fool you are."

I believed him.

Every word he said.

The hand at the back of my head, the look in his eyes, the sheer utter sense of violence oozing off of him- I'd never sensed anything like it, not before, not in our readings. But something happened to my friend. Something snapped, and he was not longer the Nick I knew.

Or maybe the Nick I knew wasn't the real Nick all along.

"Why?" I whimpered.

"Because people like you and me, Siobhan- we're special. We deserve more than what this life has dealt us. We see it every day, in every client. They come to us for answers, and we selflessly give them away. But now-" He stopped to let out a huff of a chuckle. "Now I'm done answering other people's questions."

He tossed me aside, back towards the glass case I had climbed upon to get the sword earlier. The momentum had me groaning at the impact, which hit hard enough to shatter the cabinet around me as I crumpled to the floor, my arms covering my head to protect it from falling glass.

"Instead of working with me, you're against me. And just like I'll show your cop boyfriend, no one is going to get in the way of my answers any longer."

"I wouldn't be so certain."

Mac.

The sound of his voice- his very-much-still-alive voice- had me moving my arms away and looking up faster than I should have. Colors danced and my vision blurred but there was no mistake that it was him.

And he had found my discarded sword.

The silver of the blade protruded through Nick's shoulder, and my friend...

No, he wasn't my friend any longer.

Nick paused in his efforts as Mac drove it in further, the blade emerging fully straight through him and Nick screaming in pain.

"Now, answer me this," Mac hissed as he leaned over Nick's shoulder to speak in his ear. "What are you going to do when the police bust down that door?"

"Not a gods-damned thing," he hissed.

"You're right-"

But Mac didn't expect Nick to sweep his legs out from underneath him. Neither did I until it happened, when my shout of warning rang out too slowly, and Mac toppled back to the ground, hitting his head hard on the shop floor.

With the sword protruding from his shoulder, Nick looked even more formidable as he turned to face his fallen nemesis, and wasted no time taking advantage of his position above him, delivering kick after kick to his incapacitated form.

After feeling first-hand what he was capable of, I was scared.

Scared for myself.

Scared for Mac.

And scared for anyone else who could cross this monster's path if he was ever allowed to step foot outside of this store.

Nick attempted to remove the blade, but he couldn't reach the handle. He clapped both hands against the blade, but it only made him scream louder. If there was a time to move, it would have to be now.

But what could I possibly do?

I wasn't a fighter.

I wasn't a defender.

I wasn't anything but a Tarot card reader.

Clenching my fists in frustration, my hand grasped something hard and cold and...

Swallowing I reached around my other hand, and finding something similar in the dark, my mind began to race as the adrenaline coursed through me.

Fight or flight.

But I wasn't running anymore.

I gathered my legs underneath me and slowly crouched by the destroyed cabinet and shattered glass. Nick's attention was wholly on attacking Mac, which meant he didn't hear me as I stood and shuffled my way across the floor until I was standing behind him.

"Nicholas," I said loud enough for him to hear.

Loud enough to startle him.

He spun around quickly...

And into the two waiting daggers I'd gathered off the floor.

The look on his face was surprise meshed with despair with a dash of betrayal, but I didn't care. I shoved those blades in until only the hilt was visible and he staggered back towards the front of the store, tumbling to the ground with a moan of agony.

But my attention was on Mac.

I scrambled over to him, and he was groaning where he lay, eyes clenched closed and holding his stomach tight.

"Mac- Mac talk to me."

"Siobhan," he muttered through swollen lips. The swelling around his eye kept it closed, I realized, and in the light coming in from the street, he looked bruised and cut on every inch of exposed skin.

"I'm here," I tried to assure him, though my voice cracked as helplessness surged through me.

"Where is he?" he whispered.

I didn't need to ask who he meant...

But we wouldn't need to worry about that any longer.

His body lay sprawled on the floor, and no matter how hard I looked I couldn't see the shadow of his chest rise or fall. Even if a part of me willed it so, the rational part of my brain reminded myself that he would have killed me first.

He would had killed Mac.

He killed Mr. Johnson and Leo.

Tears still stung my eyes as I knelt by Mac with my attention Nick's lifeless form.

It means you better find who's supposed to break your heart, and figure out how to break theirs first.

With three blades now piercing his, it seemed I figured out how to break a heart after all.