Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
They were nearly there when a brawny Black woman stepped in front of Kierse.
“Nowhere to go.” Her accent was thick and unmistakably foreign. A rich Irish brogue. An oak tree was tattooed at her throat.
“Druid,” Kierse hissed.
The woman flashed her teeth. “Boss says your time is up.”
“Ethan,” Kierse said low. “Protect Gen.”
Kierse didn’t wait to see if he would do it. She let time slow, anticipating what the woman would do next. If going around wouldn’t work then she’d have to go through. Use all those techniques she’d practiced over and over again.
Kierse gritted her teeth, flicked a knife out of her sleeve, and sliced forward across the woman’s chest. The woman jumped out of the reach of Kierse’s knife and produced two of her own. This woman hadn’t anticipated that Kierse knew how to fight. She was scrappy and fast but more of a sprinter than a marathon runner, so this needed to end quickly.
Kierse approached the woman, breathing shallowly and keeping her arms in. The woman struck first, thrusting one of her blades forward. Kierse turned sharply. She dodged the blow and pulled her own blade up toward the woman, slashing against her arm. The woman moved fluidly as she attempted again to take her down, but Kierse was ready for her. She hit her another time, dragging her knife against the woman’s exposed thigh.
Kierse pressed her advantage. The woman whirled out of the way of Kierse’s blade and then aimed her own knife toward Kierse’s ribs.
“Your left!” Ethan cried.
Kierse jerked at the sound of his voice. She moved but not quite fast enough. The knife sliced outward across her left ribs, drawing blood.
She hissed as pain roared up her side. She couldn’t lose. Not now.
It was shocking that no one paid them any mind. No matter that they were fighting in a public space and bleeding on the street. Maybe on the Upper East Side someone would have screamed and run away from the fight, but it was a common occurrence here—too many fights for people to be bothered. It was only when guns were drawn or fangs and claws came out that they knew to run.
Kierse’s breathing intensified. She could feel her heart racing up out of her chest and into her throat. She tried to reach slow motion, but she was already drained. Too much adrenaline too fast. She needed a moment to think. A moment to breathe. But she didn’t have it.
“It’s over. Surrender and I promise to make it quick,” the woman crooned.
Kierse refused to rise to her bait. She had people to protect. People who were counting on her. The woman wanted her to get mad and make a mistake. The only mistake was not finishing this sooner. She had to assume that other Druids had followed this woman here. And if the first attacker caught up with them, it would be at least two against one. She didn’t like those odds.
Kierse sighed heavily as if she were giving up. She nodded her head once at the woman and let her knife drop slightly toward her side. Then she waited to see if she took the bait. Like clockwork, the woman rushed her, thinking that she was easy prey after all.
As soon as she was within reach, Kierse spun on a dime, grasping the woman’s arm and popping the wrist. She dropped her knife with a strangled gasp. Kierse slammed her hand in the woman’s kidney hard enough to drop her to a knee. And when she fell, Kierse smashed the hilt of her knife against the woman’s temple. The woman swayed for a moment before collapsing like a sack of potatoes.
“Holy shit,” Ethan cried.
“Kierse,” Gen said with growing alarm.
“I don’t know if there are more of them,” Kierse said, turning to her friends. Everything had happened so fast, and yet the whole thing had taken too long. “We have to get moving.” She grasped Gen’s hand again and started to run.
“Why are they after us?” Ethan gasped.
Kierse had assumed this was a Roulette problem, but that woman had said the boss wanted her dead. Why the hell would the head of the Druids want her dead? Let alone want her dead enough to attack the brothel and the Roulettes in open warfare? Only one thing had changed—Graves.
“Fuck,” she hissed. “Amberdash told me to watch my back when I left his building tonight.”
“This is about the guy who offered you a job?” Ethan asked incredulously, dodging around three people laughing and dancing.
“Does he want you dead, or are these his enemies?” Gen asked between breaths as they continued to weave in and out of the crowd.
She had taken Amberdash at face value, but she hadn’t thought that this would mean enemies would attack her safe house.
“Just . . . hurry.”
Kierse didn’t know what to do if there were more Druids after them, and based on that woman, she had to assume there were. She couldn’t take on more people. She barely had the energy to run. And she didn’t know what that meant for her friends. Did that make them collateral damage?