Dire times require dire measures

Christina and JJ moved so fast that I didn't register the actions themselves—only their results. I could see the afterimages the two left behind, but had no brainpower to process them. It was like watching a slide-show.

After Christina's initial lunge, JJ stood a step away from his initial position, with Christina's deadly claws in the air where his shoulder was a moment earlier.

Next snapshot, JJ held a gleaming short dagger a finger-breath away from Christina's neck. I could see his back now, and my momentarily forgotten nausea returned with a vengeance at the sight of the clothes burnt into his skin.

I looked away before the bile could escape my stomach. That was seriously sick. Reality crashed on me like a sledgehammer. I just almost blew up. JJ half-blew up. Sergey had totally blown up.

Where were all the patrons from the restaurant I saw earlier? The servers? The cooks? The security?