A fist connected with my already throbbing jaw.
Dizziness seized my coordination, and I swayed from the loss of my footing.
While I staggered, the soldier who’d pounced on me raised his fist again. But it failed to reach me as his comrade yanked him back by the collar of his shirt.
Asnappierced his protest, and the soldier sagged in his friend’s arms, his head twisted in an unnatural position.
The other pair of soldiers went rigid, staring at their lifeless fellow, both fazed by the turn of events, just like me.
One of their own had turned against them.
The traitor jerked his chin to the clash between Kali and the commander, and the four of us executed his silent order just in time to see her crouch down and yank the leader’s injured leg from underneath him, sending him over the roof’s edge and into a hundred-and-forty-foot drop.
A dull thump signaled the heavy weight had hit the street.
Rising, she wiped her nose, smearing the two rivers of blood pouring out of her nostrils. “You think your masks will protect you?” Clutching a single knife, she turned around. “I kill boys like you for breakfast.”
She rushed toward us, breaking the temporary hold we’d been taken over by. I twisted to wrestle the two still-alive soldiers, their backstabbing comrade forgotten. His goal for murdering his friend could be picked apart later. Especially when he’d decided to insert himself into Kali’s path instead of fighting me.
Sweat slicked my back as I kicked the back of one of the two remaining soldier’s knees, using the momentum to drive my knife into his nape. Leaving the weapon lodged in his vertebrae, I dodged the blade aiming for my chest.
His other knife swung toward my neck, and I spun, weaving my feet into an intricate pattern, my muscles straining, my instincts deflecting the blow the best they could?—
A searing burn bloomed on my left upper arm. Heat exploded along the line he’d succeeded in carving out in my flesh.
Jumping away, I slipped in a dark puddle. If not for the traction my boots provided, I would’ve cracked my nose. The fallen soldiers’ blood pooled on the roof, turning it into a field of liquid obstacles.
A half-grunt, half-growl rumbled out of me as I feigned a lurch forward. Side-stepping my opponent, I plunged my favorite knife a few inches below his armpit.
As I tugged my blade free of his body, a slurp matched his gasp. His right lung began to collapse, but as much I would’ve enjoyed witnessing his suffering, I had Kali to look after.
Swiftly drawing a beautiful curve across his throat, I hurried to join her facing off the masked man who’d apparently disagreed with his fellows and had decided to simply get rid of one.
“Who are you?” Kali circled him in the center of the roof, her toes barely touching the ground. At last, she’d ceased overthinking, her gait fluid as she drifted around him.
Wordless, he danced together with her, his own two knives clutched in his fists.
Taking a spot opposite her, I moved in her footsteps, along the invisible ring she was sketching around the tall and broad-shouldered man. Not a strand of hair peeked out from underneath his helmet, not a patch of skin visible, as his leather gloves were melded with his shirt.
Kali flicked her sweat-soaked locks away from her nose, the motion obstructing her vision momentarily, but more than enough for him to close the space between us and catch me by my throat.
Pressure lured warmth to trickle into my face, my lungs encountering difficulty in continuing to supply my cells with oxygen?—
His grasp relaxed, and his thumb stroked down my carotid artery in a way so familiar, my breathing hitched.
It couldn’t be.
Couldn’t.
It couldn’t.
12
ZION
The realization of who was caressing my throat disarmed me.
His gloved hand resting on my pulse point fried my sanity.
