“I’ve warned you before, Sean. You stay out of my streets. Period. I don’t care what you think is yours. This neighborhood isn’t. It’s only a courtesy to your father that you’re still breathing. So back down, back off, and get the fuck out. Next time, I won’t ask nicely.”
The field encompassed Dunkirk before he could take another step, his expression instantly betraying that he felt the change in temperature. Shuddering, he scowled as a thin coating of frost began to form over his exposed skin—good. If it was powerful even against Dunkirk, it would work on Zeus too.
“You f-freak,” Dunkirk snarled. “Can’t even f-fight me like a man?”
“You only get a pass today because I’m in a good mood,” Mal inclined his head, “and Lucy does so love this bakery. Would be a shame to rough it up.”