Refusal.
“Shady.”
“I know.”
“Get off before I bite you.”
“Normally, I’d be into that.”
“Not the time, gringo.”
“Definitely not the time,” I agree, and roll enough to put myself between her and the shooter without pinning her.
Vice drops beside us, shotgun up. “We moving or flirting?”
“Multitasking,” I say.
Lady looks at Vice. “He always this annoying during rescues?”
“Worse,” Vice says. “Usually there’s less blood.”
“Debatable,” I mutter.
Diablo cuts across the aisle with Magic and Six, all three moving like violence learned choreography. Magic has blood on his cheek and a grin that says none of it is his problem. Six covers the stairs. Diablo’s eyes hit Lady, then me, then her wrists.
His face goes black.
“You good?” he asks her.
Lady lifts her chin. “No, but I’m alive.”
“That’ll do for the next five minutes,” Diablo says.
A cold voice comes over the warehouse speakers.
“Well, look at that. Road captain found the road.”
Toro.
Every gun stills for half a beat.
His voice pours through the speakers from somewhere above or beyond the office. Smooth. Amused. Already leaving.
“You came with friends, Shady. I’m disappointed.”
“Come down here and I’ll apologize with my hands,” I yell.
Lady grips my cut. “He’s baiting you.”
“I know.”
“Your face says you want to eat the bait.”
“My face is a narc.”
Toro laughs through the speaker. “She is sharper than you deserve.”
“She’s sharper than everybody,” I say.
