Chapter 20 Goldlight Blood #3
“Could've fooled me. You move like you've been doing this together for years.” She ducked under a punch, drove her blade through the attacker's femoral artery. Blood fountained. “Cal, duck!”
He obeyed without question. Her dagger sailed over his head, embedded in the chest of someone behind him. Perfect throw. Perfect timing.
“Thanks, darling,” Cal said. Dropped another attacker with an elbow to the temple.
“Anytime, handsome.” She pulled a dagger from a corpse, wiped it clean on expensive fabric. “Though we really should stop meeting like this. People will talk.”
“They already do.”
“Fair point.”
I grabbed the last standing attacker. Lifted him bodily, slammed him into the van with enough force to dent metal. His eyes rolled back. I dropped him. He didn't move.
Silence descended. Broken breathing. Groaning from the wounded. The metallic scent of blood thick in the air.
Twelve attackers down. Three of us standing. Webb cowering against a wall, his expensive suit ruined, his face white with terror.
“Well,” Lori said brightly. “That was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
Cal turned to her. “What are you doing here?”
“Working. Same as you.” She retrieved her daggers with practiced efficiency. “Harrow's network is targeting Webb. I'm targeting Harrow's network. The math isn't complicated.”
“You could have mentioned you'd be here.”
“Where's the surprise in that?” She cleaned her blades, sheathed them somewhere I couldn't see despite watching. “Besides, you two looked like you had it handled. Mostly.”
I moved closer. Studied her properly. Recognition clicked. “Eden. You were with Harrow.”
“Was I?” She smiled. “Memory plays tricks, doesn't it?”
“Not on Cal it doesn't. And not on me.” I crossed my arms. “ You work there.”
“Guilty.” She extended her hand. “Lori. Professional problem solver. Occasional assassin. Full-time pain in everyone's arse.”
I didn't take her hand. Just looked at Cal. “You know her.”
“We've worked together. Briefly.” Cal's expression was carefully neutral. “She saved my life. Killed some people. Left bodies. The usual.”
“The usual,” I repeated.
“In our line of work, yes.” Lori dropped her hand. “Don't look so scandalised, darling. You just put three men in hospital and probably killed two more. We're all sinners here.”
“I don't kill for money.”
“No, you kill for principle. Much more noble. Though the bodies end up just as dead either way.” Lori said smiling.
“We need to move,” Cal interjected. “This courtyard is about to be swarming with police and we're standing in the middle of a massacre.”
He was right. Sirens already wailing in the distance. Witnesses filming on phones. Security footage capturing everything.
“Webb,” I said. Moved toward him. “Come with us. Now.”
“I don't—I can't—they'll kill me—”
“They already tried. We stopped them.” I grabbed his arm. “You have two choices. Come with us and live long enough to talk. Or stay here and wait for the next attempt.”
Webb's gaze moved between us. Between me and Cal and Lori standing there covered in other people's blood. Calculating. Desperate.
“Who are you people?”
“We're the ones keeping you breathing,” Cal said. Voice flat. “Which is more than Harrow's doing. Choose now or we leave you.”
Webb nodded. “Okay. Okay. I'll come.”
“Smart man.” Lori gestured toward a side street. “This way. I know a route that avoids cameras and witnesses. Perks of proper reconnaissance.”
“You scouted this?” Cal asked.
“Obviously. I'm a professional.” She started walking. “Keep up, boys. And try not to bleed on anything expensive.”
We followed. Webb between us. Cal and I flanking him while Lori led through passages and alleys that seemed to appear specifically for her use. Service entrances. Loading docks. Spaces between buildings that officially didn't exist.
“Where are we going?” Webb gasped.
“Somewhere safe,” Cal said. “Somewhere they can't follow.”
Lori led us to a door I would have walked past without seeing. Unlocked it with a key that shouldn't have fit. Inside, stairs descended into darkness.
“The tunnels,” I said. Recognition clicking.
“Indeed.” She produced a torch, illuminated stone steps worn smooth by centuries. “London's skeleton. Harrow's people won't follow. They're not stupid enough to get lost down here.”
We descended. The temperature dropped. The air grew damp. Ancient stone pressed close on all sides.
Behind us, footsteps. Our pursuers had found the entrance. But as we went deeper, turned corners that required memory to navigate, the footsteps hesitated. Then stopped.
They'd lost us.
“Here.” Lori stopped in a wider section. Played her torch over Webb's terrified face. “Safe enough. For now.”
Cal pulled out his phone. Added light to the scene. I could see Webb properly now. See the fear. The dawning realisation that he was completely at our mercy.
“We need to talk about Harrow. And you're going to tell us everything.”
Webb's face went white.
We had him now. Cornered. Terrified. Completely out of options.