The magnacraft screamed straight toward them.
Renna held her breath.
It swerved at the last possible second, tipping on two wheels. She turned to follow it, keeping the boy behind her and reaching for her gun. Her fingers came away from her holster empty. Godsdammit. That, too?
The magnacraft’s side door slid open, and she blinked. Instead of dirty Cordoza thugs, six people, dressed in black from head to toe leaped out, ninja-style masks hiding their faces. Two of the men charged at Renna and Myka, while the others raced across the parking lot.
“Stay back,” Renna warned in her roughest, most mercenary voice. It usually worked well in bar fights, but these men seemed to be of a different caliber.
Their only identifying feature behind the masks was the cold glitter of their eyes. They moved with precision, each stride calculated and deliberate. One of the men stepped forward to take the lead, and her eyes widened at the handle of a long sword jutting over his shoulder.
What kind of thug carried a sword? That had gone out of fashion two thousand years ago.
“Who are you?” She reached behind her and squeezed Myka’s arm, making sure he was close. Keep them talking long enough and maybe the Cordoza thugs would show up. The two groups could fight each other, letting her and the kid escape.
But the silent men didn’t answer. The leader moved closer, the ice in his blue eyes and the smell of raw silk from his dark uniform making her take a step back. These weren’t ordinary thugs. Her gut clenched and she tried to take a deep breath, but the still-searing pain from the crash made her gasp instead.
Maybe she should have left the boy back in his cage. This was getting to be entirely too much work.
Silence stretched between them until her whole body trembled with the urge to run. Renna’s pulse sped up, and her gaze darted around the space, searching for escape. Before she could even take a step, the second man tugged his sword free of its sheath, the metal singing as he backflipped over them to land feet away from Myka.
The leader pulled his sword, too, the shining tip pointed directly at her. “Don’t move.”
“Like we had much choice,” she muttered. She eyed the man’s muscled frame and the strong arms that held his sword. She was impressed, despite the cold curl of ice in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she’d invest in some martial arts training before retirement. Being able to move like that could come in handy. In more ways than one.
Renna shook her head, trying to clear it. The humming in her ears was getting louder, but it wasn’t coming from inside her head any more. The Cordozas’ hover car had finally arrived. The nose of the machine cleared the top of the parking structure. Two men hung from the open doors, guns pointed directly at them.
Her heart kicked, and she readied herself to roll out of the way. But she waited, watching the edge of the deck where the four remaining black-clad figures crouched, hidden against the ledge like shadows.
Moving as one, they pulled their swords free, the blades glinting in the morning sun. As the car glided overhead, they attacked, slicing into it from all four sides.
Renna’s jaw dropped as the blades tore through the car like butter, the metal screaming and sparking at the impact. The men inside the car screamed, too, as soon as they realized what was happening, before bailing from the dying vehicle like lemmings.
The car shuddered and teetered on the edge of the parking deck before falling backward, landing with a boom that made the structure tremble. The Cordoza guards had barely found their feet before the other men had turned their blades to them.
Blood splattered like fireworks, turning the cement crimson and filling the air with iron and death. A head rolled past Renna’s feet, bouncing down the gentle incline. She clenched her hands, forcing herself not to react. She’d seen some horrific things in her life, but the cold ruthlessness of these men made her stomach turn. The thugs were starting to look like the better option here.
Behind her, Myka gasped, and she spun to face him. He stared at the head as it left a trail of glistening blood behind it on the pavement. He still wore her pack slung over his shoulders, and she moved to hug him.
“Play along,” she whispered as she slowly reached beneath the bag to the opening, pulling out the shiny metal blaster she’d stolen from the safe. The weight felt reassuring in her hand, and she gripped it tightly.
She pitched her voice so it was no more than a whisper of air in the kid’s ear. “When I let go, run for the ramp. I’ll distract them. Find Boyd in the merchant district. Sunshine building. Tell him Renna sent you.” She felt Myka nod. “Good boy. Now run!”
Spinning on one heel, Renna kicked out, taking the first ninja guard by surprise. Her boot connected with his stomach, and he grunted, doubling over and clutching his abdomen. Before she could line up a shot, the second guard sprang at her with his sword. She tried to knock it away with the barrel of the gun, but the metal of the sword sliced right through it. She stared blankly at the blaster for a split second before ducking beneath his backswing.
She lashed out with her foot, catching him on the ankle. He twisted as he tumbled, grabbing her arm with his free hand and pinning it behind her.
The first man let out an angry hiss and grabbed her other arm, raising his sword. Renna stared down the length of the shining metal. She’d seen what it had done to those other men. She knew exactly how she was going to die.
“You boys sure like to play with your swords,” she drawled breathlessly. It was hard to stay nonchalant pinned against the hard chest of a murderer.
The sword tip quivered inches from her chest, and she puffed it out even farther so that the tip touched the buttons on her shirt. “Sure would be a shame to ruin these perfect br**sts. I can assure you they’re all natural. No work done here, boys.”
Dark blue eyes watched her from behind the mask, and she shivered at the man’s cold glare. But the sword didn’t move.
Her limbs tingled. Was this actually working? “If you let me go, I’m sure we can work something out to our mutual agreement.” She smiled slowly, raking her gaze up and down the man’s lean form.
“Get her to the van,” he ordered, lowering the weapon. He had a voice like aged honey, rich and deep and almost familiar.
The man behind her grabbed Renna’s arm. “Try to escape and I’ll kill you.”
She stood perfectly still, the five men garbed in black closing ranks around her. There was one missing. Myka!
On cue, the soldier strode up the parking ramp, carrying the struggling boy under his arm.