I lift my foot and slam my heel down onto his instep as hard as I can. He snarls and loosens just enough for me to break free. I spin, throwing my elbow back, catching him somewhere in the ribs. He grunts but doesn’t go down. He’s strong. Trained. And a hell of a lot bigger than me.
The second man grabs me from behind, arms around my torso in a bear hug from hell. He’s trying to drag me. Over my shoulder I see his destination—a black van parked at the corner.
“No!” I kick and thrash, using my weight and turning myself into pure chaos.
I manage to fling my heel back and connect with his shin. He hisses, grip tightening. The first man steps in again, zip tie at the ready.
Suddenly, a third presence enters the space like a blade.
Andrei.
It happens so fast I almost don’t register him as real. One second the first man is stepping toward me, and the next Andrei is between us, moving like a force of nature.
He grabs the first attacker’s wrist and twists. I wince as a sickening crack fills the air, followed by a howl of pain. The zip tie falls to the ground. Andrei drives a brutal, efficient strike right into the man’s throat and he collapses, reduced to a gasping, choking mess on the sidewalk.
The second attacker still has me and is still trying to drag me toward the van.
Andrei turns his attention to him, his eyes cold, almost black. “Let her go.”
The man hesitates, giving me the out I need to save myself. I throw my head back and connect with his chin, hard. I wrench free, spinning away.
Andrei takes advantage of the clear shot. He steps forward and throws a punch. Blood sprays from the man’s mouth, and I’m pretty sure I saw a tooth go flying. The man staggers again. Andrei reaches forward, putting his hand on the back of the man’s head and slamming his face into the side of a nearby car with such force the metal shudders. The man wobbles a bit, then falls backward.
Andrei turns his attention to the van, then to me. “Go to the police station. Two blocks that way. Run. Now.”
I know that police station—it’s Kyle’s precinct.
My chest his heaving. “Andrei?—”
“Now.”
The second man is down, but the first is getting up, having somehow recovered from the hit to his throat. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blade.
I gasp and shout, “Andrei!”
The man lunges. Andrei pivots at the last second, catching the man’s forearm. The blade slices too close and my lungs seize with terror.
I don’t think. I just move.
I rush in, low and fast, driving my foot into the side of the attacker’s knee right where Kyle taught me, where he said the joint is the weakest.
The man yelps, his leg buckling sideways.
Andrei’s gaze snaps to me for the briefest of moments, surprise flickering across his face. Then he uses the opening. He disarms the man with a twist of his wrist, then a sharp strike to the gut that ends the fight in an instant. The man’s body crumples to the ground. He’s wheezing like he just got the wind knocked clear out of him. The other guy’s still down, groaning and moaning.
The doors to the van open, and another man steps out. Andrei turns to me. “Run. Now. Police station.”
I finally obey. I scoop up my bag, my hands trembling so badly I almost drop it. I back up two steps, my eyes locked on Andrei.
I don’t want to leave him.
“Go!”
I swallow the panic, and nod. Then I sprint.
My boots slam onto the pavement, every breath burning. My heart feels like it’s on the verge of punching a hole out of my chest.
As I run, I realize the horrible truth.
