Felix's eyes gleamed with murderous intent as he flexed his newly healed arm. "You caught me off guard with that last strike. It won't happen again."
I shrugged, completely unbothered by his threat. "If you say so."
"Felix, destroy him!" Preston shouted from behind the overturned tables where he'd taken cover. "Show this peasant what happens when he crosses the Vance family!"
Felix cracked his knuckles with deliberate slowness. "Forty years of training. Forty years of perfecting the Witch Doctor arts. You think one lucky hit makes you my equal?"
"I think you talk too much," I replied.
His face twisted with rage. Felix launched himself at me with explosive speed, his fist wreathed in dark energy. The air around his strike shimmered with malevolent force.
I stepped aside at the last second. His punch whistled past my ear, missing by inches.
"Too slow," I said calmly.
