Lochlan lunges. Killian kicks, driving his foot into the side of Lochlan’s knee. There’s a crack. Lochlan slams into the floor. Panting, Lochlan slowly raises himself. He has to do it like me—awkward and step-by-step. When he’s upright, Killian lets him land a few more shots. Now Lochlan understands what’s happening. His face is twisted with frustration, and he starts fighting dirty, aiming for the throat, the groin. Killian flip-shifts for split seconds at a time, easily avoiding the below the belt blows.
