"Self-defense." He doesn't hesitate, then looks at Ash. "This all checks out?"
Ash nods. "With witnesses."
Miller cuts in. "To everything but how his face got bashed in."
The older detective scoffs. "Who the fuck cares? Daniels killed a cop. A damn fine one, too." He turns to Miller. "Get her printed, run the GSR, document everything. And call the meat wagon."
Miller's face goes tight, but he nods. "Clear."
I glance at Diesel. His eyes are half-closed now. The gray in his skin has spread, and Maya's pressing fresh gauze to his side—the old one already soaked through.
A uniform bags the weapons. Two guns—my prints on both, Diesel's on neither. It matches what I told them.
Miller looks at Diesel, still slumped against the wall. "What about the bullets in him?"
Maya doesn't look up. "One's lodged. One went through. I'll turn over the round after I extract it."
"Protocol says gunshot victims go to the trauma unit."
"You really want a dead cop killer and an orc in your trauma unit hitting the news on the same day?" Ash cuts in. "She's a licensed physician. Chain of custody will hold."
The older detective holds up a hand. "Get it in writing and move on."
***
They separate us for statements.
I give them the words and watch them write it down. Across the room, Diesel's fading—his answers down to single words, Maya's hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him upright.
He keeps finding my eyes, checking that I'm still here.
Ash steps between Diesel and Miller. "We're done. Release them now, or you're going to have a dead orc on your hands and a lot of questions about why you held a gunshot victim for paperwork."
The older detective waves us off. "Go. We know where to find you."
"And Venetti?" I ask.
"Nova has everything Carver collected. Phone records, bank transfers, names." He pauses. "Enough to uncover anyone connected to Daniels and make sure Venetti never sees the outside again."
It's over.
For almost a year, I've been running. Hiding. Looking over my shoulder, waiting for the knock on the door, the shadow in the corner, the hand closing around my throat.
And now it's over.
I look across the room at Diesel.
Maya's finishing up. She tapes down a final bandage, shaking her head.
"Daniels didn't know where to aim. Orc anatomy's different—heart's lower, organs are shifted. He hit meat and muscle, nothing vital. Dumb luck for you, bad aim for him."
Diesel grunts. "Feels pretty vital."
"It'll feel worse tomorrow." Her eyes move between us. "We need to move. Vargan's prepping the clinic, but you're fading faster than I'd like."
Diesel tries to push off the wall. Crow catches him before he lists sideways.
"Easy." Crow gets under his arm. "Save the tough guy shit for when you're not leaking."
