Page 5 of Tracking Snow

The woman screams at the same time I hear a crack, and I whip around to see her grasping her knee, bent at an awkward angle.

What the actual hell?

Before I can register what's happening, Dirt-Face's eyes drift to his weapon. I lunge at the same time he does.

My fingers barely brush the cold metal before it disappears and I fall forward. My forehead knocks hard against Dirt-Face's skull as we collide. My teeth cut into my tongue at the impact, and a metallic taste fills my mouth. It takes all my effort not to hit the ground again, but I manage to stagger to my feet.

The click of a gun's hammer pulling back sounds next to my head. I turn in what feels like slow motion to find Hoodie standing beside me. He somehow has the gun, and it’s trained at the trio.

H-how? No one could be that fast.

As soon as the HAM goons focus on Hoodie and the gun now pointed their way, they share the same grim expression.

Hoodie tilts his head as if in silent question.

Want to stay and find out if I’ll pull the trigger?

With a sneer, Dirt-Face waves his hand to his cohorts, and they hurry out of the alleyway, Wrecking Ball half-carrying the woman on what seems like a severely injured knee.

As soon as they disappear, a series of clicks and clacks draws my attention to the gun, now deconstructed into five parts in Hoodie's two hands.

He pockets the barrel and recoil spring, drops the empty frame at his feet, and flicks the magazine into a nearby dumpster. A single round hits the ground before rolling away with an audible tinkle.

"Whoa," I breathe. "Who are you?"

Hoodie pins me with an intense gaze that could mean disapproval, or that he dislikes the question.

"No one." Then he shoves his hands into his hoodie, and stalks away.

Chapter 2

A Cute Floating Finger

THE SEVEN - ONE

We walk out of the alleyway with no intention of engaging with the small woman who goggled at us with those bewitching wide blue eyes.

She's just a human.

"Wait, hey, I'm talking to you," she calls after us, running to catch up.

I close my eyes, pushing back the swell of voices competing for dominance in my head, and forge ahead.

"Go away," I say through gritted teeth.

Wait, turn around. I want a better look at her, Four says.

"Whoa, is that how you are gonna treat someone who just saved your ass?" the girl demands.

The genuine annoyance in her voice stops me in my tracks, and turn to face her.

Even though Four is deep in the pecking order of our consciousness, I can feel his attention roaming over her. He soaks in her pulled-back white hair and icy crystalline eyes peering up at me, causing an uncomfortable shifting sensation in my chest.

That feeling would be attraction, dumbass, Four taunts.

I swallow hard, trying to squash the sudden tingling sensation sweeping over my skin and the magnetic pull urging me to get closer.

With such contrasting coloring against her dark skin, I would have thought she might be fae or mage, but no, she's human.