Son of a bitch. I ducked. The shooter let out a high-pitched laugh and I leapt across the stockroom, taking cover behind a steel shelf.
I’d gotten the barest glimpse of his gun, but I was pretty sure it was a Smith and Wesson Model 29. Humans loved the firepower, but if I was right, he only had six rounds to play with.
He’d fired three. Whoever had sent him after me hadn’t told him who he was dealing with. He should’ve bought a fucking semi-automatic, because I was betting I could stick my knife in his throat before he could reload. As long as the next three rounds didn’t kill me.
“Come out, witch, and I’ll give you an easy shot in the head. Otherwise it’ll be a gut shot.”
Yeah, yeah. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in a great position, frozen behind one of Merrill’s overturned shelves. If I could get to the shield, I might have a chance. Of course, I could use my power, and the thought made it slam against my shields. The problem with that was that I was liable to kill the shooter. Even attempting a ward was risky. I needed to interrogate him.
But first, I needed to get closer. Without getting gut shot. No problem.
I gritted my teeth and army crawled along the floor, cursing whoever had knocked so many shelves over. While they gave me cover, the weapons and spells littering the ground made it difficult to move.
I peered through a gap in the shelf closest to me. The idiot had thrown off the hood of his cloak and I memorized his features. Wide mouth, yellowing teeth, dark, squinty eyes. His face was twisted in a mixture of rage and pleasure. He thought he had me pinned, and he was already celebrating. Idiot.
A long scar twisted down his neck and disappeared, covered by the robe.
I crawled faster and knocked over a painting. A bullet smashed against the wall, and I dropped to my stomach, hugging the floor. I hated being on the defensive.
Two rounds left.
An explosion spell glittered at me from a few feet away, tied to a piece of rose quartz. Tempting, but I couldn’t risk killing this asshole before I interrogated him. The crunch of footsteps on broken glass made the decision for me. He was walking toward me.
I picked up the stone, coaxed it awake with my power, and threw it past the plates and into the wall.
“You bitch!”
Bet that made him piss his pants. I laughed silently and took the opportunity to move a few more feet. He’d be expecting me to head toward the open door leading into the main room of Merrill’s store, so I did the opposite, backtracking toward where I was crouched when I found the marble.
Smoke filled the room from the exploding spell. I sure didn’t think that one through. My lungs seized with the need to cough.
Oh crap. They itched, every breath tickling down my throat. But if I gave into it, that last bullet would hit me. He was shooting like he’d used that gun many times before.
Use your ward, dummy.
Yeah, because I could definitely trust my power enough to protect me from a guy who wanted to blow my head off without instantly killing him.
I slipped my hand toward my utility belt, slowly unzipping a pouch as sweat rolled down my back. The shooter stalked toward me, kicking a path through the rubble of Merrill’s back room as he went.
I threw one of my throwing knives at the shield. It clanged against the metal, bounced off, and Scar-face jolted, swinging his gun wildly toward the shield.
“You’re a dead whore!” He shot in the shield’s direction, and I jumped to my feet. Our eyes met and his face drained of color as he pulled the trigger. The click sounded loud in the sudden silence and his hand trembled as he cursed and reached beneath his robe for a magazine.
I smiled at him. “I’m a what?” I pulled my Nim Cub and he gulped, turned, and ran, slamming the door to the alley behind him.
I hauled ass through the wreckage, threw the door open and sprinted after him. He was heading southeast, and I grinned savagely. I’d bet I knew that neighborhood better than him.
He crossed the street and I cursed as I was forced to wait for a truck. He disappeared for a moment, and I growled under my breath as he appeared in my line of sight. The asshole was holding his gun on a human guy, forcing him out of his car.
Fuck interrogation. If I couldn’t catch him, I’d kill him. His body would be plenty of evidence. I dropped my shields, lifted my hand, and something slammed into me, dropping me like a rock.
I rolled, instantly pulling my knife again as I held it against a throat.
A human teenager’s throat.
He stared at me, stunned. Packing away my power took everything in me. I rolled off him and cursed soundly. The asshole in the cloak was long gone, and the teenager looked mighty pleased with himself as he brushed himself off and got to his feet. He offered me his hand, which I ignored, still fighting my power, which wanted to explode some shit. My shield held steady. Just.
I got to my feet and took one step closer to the kid, my voice very quiet. “Is there a reason you just did that?”
