I peek over the top of a step. The two men are only a foot apart, the first’s hands are up in supplication. I don’t understand the words coming from the older man, but even under the murky light I recognize the flat smile of a predator.
Fuck.
A blade flashes, and the other man cries out. My vision narrows so that all I see is the hand striking again and again, the gleam of the blade duller now as the man howls, his body crumpling to the ground.
Over the ringing in my ears, I hear my brother’s voice in my head.
Run.
I’m already scrambling back up the stairs, yanking at the door handle. It doesn’t budge. I risk a glance back, just in time to see the killer wiping his blade clean on the fallen man’s shirt. A head of silver hair swings my way, and our eyes lock. His expression is unconcerned.
Every drop of alcohol burns away as adrenaline courses through my veins.
I grab for my phone as he advances, but the clasp is too tight. When it finally pops, the phone slips, bounces, and skitters down the steps into the shadows below.
“What do we have here?” His slick voice sends a chill sensation sliding down my spine. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer. I wrench the handle one more time. Nothing. Panic scratches up my throat.
I may not be one of Elite’s trained operatives, but I’m not helpless either.
No exit behind me, none to my left, none to my right. Only forward—past him—toward the street.
But I’ve got the high ground.
Think, Sera.
He climbs the first step, head cocked like a hawk sighting prey.
My shoulders square on instinct.
I’m not a fucking mouse.
And I’m no one’s fucking prey.
Never again.
My scars pulse, tightening faintly like they’re remembering, too. Vincent’s voice from my self-defense training sounds loud and clear as if he were standing here with me.
“If someone comes at you, they are a threat. Don’t hold back. Fight.”
The man stops two steps below me. I try to assess him, but adrenaline fuzzes the edges of my vision. He’s older than I’d originally thought, with a definite thick paunch… But he’s bigger than me. A lot bigger.
And he just murdered a man.
“Wrong place, wrong time, little girl.” His tongue tuts in mock sympathy.
I force my lips into something flirtatious. “You think so?”
His eyes darken, focus shifting from murder to… something else.
I’m not going quietly for either.
His eyes drift down my body before rising to my face again. “I like a woman with some spark in her.” His tongue clicks against his teeth again. “Makes it so much more worthwhile when I break them. But it’s for the best. It’ll be easier for you once you’re in the stables.”
Stables.
My brain refuses to process what I know he’s threatening.
