I ignore the stream of nonsense, focusing instead on our surroundings as we move.
The atmosphere just shifted.
My neck prickles, the warning system that’s kept me alive through gunfights and ambushes alight with nerves.
The night is too quiet, the street too empty.
I quicken the pace.
With every sense on high alert, I release her arm to grab the keys from my pocket. Mistake. She backs away, her eyes darting toward the road as she calculates her chances.
“Don’t bother.” I unlock the car.
She steps back again, her hair falling across her face in the yellow streetlight. Even in the dim glow, her bright green eyes glint with feral defiance. “You have bad vibes.”
Bad vibes?What the hell does that even mean? I clench my keys. I can’t deal with her stupid New Age crap right now. “They’re about to get worse if you don’t get in.”
She narrows her eyes and tilts her head. Studies me. “Shark-y vibes.”
I freeze.
That one word causes ice water to bleed through my veins.
Shark.
That’s what Vanya Orlov calls me. What some of the other guys call me behind my back.
How the fuck does she know that?
The momentary pause costs me.
Quick footsteps trail us.
I turn while calculating angles, trajectories, threats.
Three men approach from the shadows of a neighboring building. Dark clothes. Hands reaching inside jackets. They all have slicked back black hair, like they’re in some shitty boy band.
I’d been too focused on the girl to notice.
“Get in the car.” I shove her without glancing back as I step forward to meet them. “Now.”
The first man, who has scars all over his arms, advances with casual confidence while pulling a blade from his pocket.
Amateur.
A knife only works if you can get close enough to use it, and I don’t give him the chance.
Picking up a lose brick on the sidewalk, I sling the stone straight at his head.
He stops short and screams, clutching his face.
Blood gushes from his broken nose as I lurch into his space.
He’s blind and reeling, more worried about his pain than his surroundings.
His blunder, my good fortune.
Easy enough to bat his arm wide with my left hand while my right connects with his throat.
