“Oh, please,” she says. “Amateur hour.”
Viper looks offended. “Excuse me?”
Izzy calmly sets her coffee down.
“I travel lighter,” she says. “But smarter.”
She wiggles her fingers.
“First—ring.”
The ring on her middle finger suddenly unfolds with a quick twist, transforming into a compact set of brass knuckles.
My jaw drops.
“You’re kidding.”
Izzy smirks. “Nope.”
Hunter leans closer to examine it. “That’s slick.”
“Titanium alloy,” she says proudly.
Tony shakes his head like he’s watching a magic trick.
Izzy folds the ring back into place.
“Second,” she says, reaching into her jacket pocket, “hair stick.”
She pulls out what looks like a decorative hairpin.
“That’s a weapon?” I ask.
She presses a button, and a narrow spike slides out from the tip.
“Self-defense spike,” she says. “Great for hands that get grabby.”
Viper nods approvingly.
“Not bad.”
Izzy shrugs.
“Also have a keychain alarm, a tiny pepper spray, and steel-toe boots.”
Tony rubs his temples.
“I’m starting to think fashion school didn’t prepare me for this conversation.”
Viper grins.
“Welcome to the Demon Dawgs extended family.”
Then she reaches for the chain around her neck.
“Oh—and one more thing.”
She pulls the pendant forward. It looks like a simple triangular piece of metal.
