But before I could even call out a warning, the knife plunged into Raff’s leg and pulled up brutally.
The roar that filled the air had my stomach twisting hard as I took a step forward.
Then it rang out.
Loud enough to stop all the fighting.
To make a bird lift from the trees ahead, letting out a startled cry.
A gunshot.
From behind me.
I whirled around, sure I was in shock, that I was hit and just didn’t register the pain yet. Because the shot was too close.
It had to have hit me.
Only, it didn’t.
Because the person who was hit was all of two feet behind me.
I hadn’t even heard him.
Hadn’t known someone was breathing down my neck.
No.
Not even breathing down my neck.
Because as his body wobbled and fell to the ground, I saw another flash of metal.
In his hand.
He had a gun.
He had a gun, and he must have been aiming.
But Raff was stabbed.
Sway was still fighting with Roach.
Who… who had shot him?
My gaze lifted, catching what I thought was a shadow. Until my eyes adjusted. Until I made out their shape.
Her.
Her shape.
There were the unmistakable curves of her hips and chest.
I couldn’t make out much—dark hair, a gorgeous face, a gun still lifted, the haze around it suggesting it had just been fired.
At the man who’d been ready to off me.
Seeing me, she lowered her hand, turned, and disappeared.
“Go, go, go,” Roach roared.
