The ruffian he’d caught had some combat training. It was enough to break free and land a blow to Piers’s ribs. The son of a Cyclops must’ve thought that was it, because he tried to sprint away again. Piers yanked him back and punched him in the jaw. The man stood there like an idiot, his mouth ajar. Since he was pressed for time, Piers shifted his weight and cracked his elbow into the man’s nose. Not the most sporting of moves, but effective. The big thug squealed like a piglet. He clearly didn’t know how to fight someone who could fight him back, which was probably why he was preying on a weaponless and fleeing woman.

Pink’s frightened stare and panicked little breaths struck him anew, right in the gut this time. Piers spun into a kick, slamming the man in the head with zero remorse and probably harder than he needed to. The lout crumpled.

“Asshole.” Piers turned without a backward glance and ran after the dark-haired man and the woman.

He barely beat the magic and made it across the road before the glowing red hand propelled the traffic forward. He pumped his arms, pushing for as much speed as he dared with frost slicking parts of the hard ground. Cold air filled his lungs, biting his chest from the inside out. He grimaced. What a time to have an aching everything.

Just when he feared he’d lost her, Piers caught a flash of bright color. He followed, slipping once and nearly falling. People jumped out of his way. That was helpful, but not knowing the lay of the land infuriated him. In the blink of an eye, the blue-eyed beauty could disappear, and he’d have no idea where to go, or how to find her.

Or if she was still in danger.

Pink skidded around a sharp corner. Piers followed, sliding but somehow keeping his balance and coming out running. The woman moved fast, with nimble surefootedness even on the sometimes-icy surfaces. Piers barely gained on her. He didn’t see the second warrior. Warrior might not be the term merited, but he wasn’t about to underestimate the second ruffian-for-hire just because the first had been incompetent.

Pink ran as though Zeus’s thunderbolts dogged her heels, and Piers chased her down another narrow street between high buildings. The times he lost sight of that bright, puffy garment and bouncing yellow mane made his pulse race even faster. She turned a corner up ahead, and he pushed himself to his limit, his lungs working like bellows. He turned the same corner just in time to see the dark-haired man pounce out at her from a side alley. The thug slammed into her, sending her sprawling across the pavement.