“…A lot of them.”
I sigh. “You’re not helping very much.”
“Saint,” Grim says in my ear, suddenly sharp. “I think I found who you’re looking for.”
I keep climbing. “The shoe?”
“Yeah. Sending images over now.”
My earpiece crackles as data crawls in like it’s coming by carrier pigeon. I stop on the landing and wait.
And wait.
The images finally load, blocky and useless, all pixels and shadows.
I squint at them. “Damn. The service in here sucks.” My boot hits the next step and I resume my trek upward.
“Can you get another phone?” Grim asks.
I laugh, breathless. “Yeah. Because there’s a fucking T-Mobile up here right next to the manis and pedis.”
Right on cue, a door bangs open above me.
Footsteps pound down the stairs, fast and sloppy.
“You’re dead, bitch!” a man screams, voice cracking with terror and bravado. “You’re fucking dead!”
I don’t stop moving.
I reach into my boot, pull my knife, and hurl it up the stairwell without breaking stride.
It hits him right in the eye.
He drops instantly, momentum carrying him forward. His body tumbles down the stairs, thudding and rolling until it comes to rest at my feet, knife buried almost to the hilt in his skull.
“Fucking gross.”
I crouch and pat his pockets. Phone. Wallet. Useless gun.
“But hey,” I mutter, pulling the phone free. “He has a phone.”
“Score!” Grim says. “Can you unlock it?”
I hold it up. Face ID needed. I’m about tired of all these restrictions. Doesn’t the universe know I’m trying to exact my revenge?
I grimace. “Let’s see if this works.”
I tilt the phone toward his face and magically it unlocks.
I blink. “…Wow. Didn’t expect that.”
“I’m switching you over,” Grim says quickly.
“What does that?—”
My earpiece clicks, then reconnects with a cleaner tone. The phone in my hand rings.
I answer it automatically. “Hello?”
