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“That’s evidence,” I croaked as my shoulder rolled back onto the gravel.
The girl backed further away with slow steps as her eyes darted to the corpse of another woman lying near me.
“Do you know her?”
She shook her head. “You?”
One look at the slack features of the dead body and recognition flooded my memory—the woman had carved fire into my skin. My arm throbbed on cue.
“No.” I lied. “The knife—”
“It’s mine.”
But she’d hesitated, and I had a feeling I wasn’t the only liar.
“I dropped it when I was trying to help you.” She reached behind and tucked the knife into the back of her pants.
The background sirens drew closer.
“I gotta go.” She shifted her weight between her feet, and I noticed a bloody handprint on her ankle.
“Stay.” My voice was stronger. One more minute and I would be good to move, to get on my feet.
To apprehend her.
“I can’t. I want to.” A frown appeared, vanished. “I can’t.” She shook her head. Conflicted.
It didn’t matter. I was thinking clearer. I had her name.Zarawas written in black marker on the nametag above her right breast, right underRandom Relics—had to be where she worked. I’d track her down.
The icy lake at my center seemed to still.
I watched her jog deeper into the alley, perfectly rounded, denim-clad ass and long legs moving her fast.
Jesus, what was I doing ogling?
Romano was dead, and who knew how many others. Clamping down on emotions, I blinked at my hands then began to stand, crawling up the wall with my back, unfolding, and finding strength returning to my legs.
Right now, letting the girl and the knife go, could not be my biggest disappointment.
Get the knife.
Why? I hadn’t a fucking clue.
My phone rang, and I fumbled it from my pocket.
“You can thank me for saving your ass later. Right now, I need you to get out of there.” Commander Rein’s voice snapped at me over the telephone.
She’d saved me? I looked around for a sniper spot. From her vantage, the woman carving me must have looked like a madman, a psycho at a terrorist scene. Just a coincidence? I didn’t think so...
“I need you to hustle, Val. We’ve got company.”
“MIB?” MIB, meaning the FBI.
“All the friends of Uncle Sam.”
“Romano?”
“No time. Go low until I call you.”
