Gritting her teeth, Leya shot her hand upward and maced him in the face.
He howled and lashed out, fist connecting with her jaw. The blow sent her slamming into the rough brick wall. Pain exploded, splintering through her face and skull. Christ! She moaned, shutting her watering eyes and pressing a fist to her throbbing cheek.
A growl erupted, then a grunt and a thud sounded.
Heart lodged in her throat, she opened her eyes and found Aerén standing over the fallen man who’d hit her, a dripping blade in his hand.
Dear lord, she was caught in the worst nightmare ever.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, stalking across and jerking her out of her horror. Then he was there, holding her and gently swiping her hurting cheek.
She looked into those luminous pale eyes. All she saw was him slicing those men’s throats—
“Stay away from me!” She wrenched free. “I don’t know what you’re involved in, but I’m not getting implicated in this crap.” She wheeled around and ran, her head throbbing like war drums in a battle zone.
He had to be embroiled with a gang. Only they did shit like this.
Hell, he must bestealingthose damn artifacts he mentioned, and that was why the slain men came after him.
“Leyathi, wait!” He appeared in front of her like a ghost.
She stumbled back, fear strangling her. “Don’t call me that!”
“Leya—”
“No!” She flung out her arm, holding up her mace like a shield. “Don’t come any closer, or I swear to Christ, I’ll blind you.”
He stopped, his hands still held up in a placating manner. “Look, it’s not what you think. We need to talk.”
“Oh?” She slowly inched her way around him, keeping as much distance as the narrow alley allowed, still brandishing her mace. He moved with her, mouth tightening. “Too bad that ship’s sailed. I’m not interested in whatever you have to say.” She dashed the blood from her cheek.Ow. Pain rattled from her jaw to her skull. She needed to get to her apartment, treat her wounds, swallow a ton of pain tablets, and forget she’d been stupid enough to try to help a stranger.
“You’re hurt. Let me aid you—”
“No, you and your cronies did enough!”
He growled. “I told you not to follow me! They aren’t friends!”
Oh, he was mad, was he?
“Only so I wouldn’t see you for the killer you are!” she snapped.
Dammit, Leya, don’t point that out.
“They would have slain you! Or any humans who stumbled upon them.” He snatched something off the ground, shoved things into it, then held it out.
Her fallen tote.
She grabbed her bag from him and continued moving backward.
He didn’t follow, his frustration evident on his too-handsome face.
The noise from the street crowding her ears, Leya pivoted and ran. Once on the busy sidewalk, she forced herself to slow down to not draw attention to herself. Draw attention? Ah! This was New York. She was on her own.
A part of her wanted to call the cops, but if she did, it would put her family in the crosshairs of those gangs, andthatshe refused to have.
Gulping air into starving lungs, she hurried for her building as a cab drew to a halt a short distance away. The door opened, and a tall, curvy woman slipped out, flipping back her pin-straight, coal-black hair sporting new streaks of pink and green in the front.
Hana.
