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I still, placing my hand up for Sisi to stop too. Raising a finger to my lips, I motion for her to be silent and listen to the noise.

It's very faint, but as I close my eyes and hone in on it, I can almost make out the sound of footsteps.

One. Two. Five.

My hand up, I use my fingers to indicate how many people are heading our way. She nods at me, a grim expression on her face that slowly gives way to excitement.

I should know, since it emulates my own very well.

I guess that until our reinforcements arrive we'll have time for one tiny play.

Stretching my arm out to her as if I'm inviting her to waltz, I wink at her, and she knows exactly what to do.

She fakes a curtsey as she lowers her hands to her feet, getting her shoes ready for fighting. Her entire outfit's been custom made for one purpose: to suit our style.

And we'd had enough time practicing to develop a very particular style. Especially as my stretched out hand tightens over hers, tugging her into me with a whirl.

"Ready for the showdown, hell girl?" I ask, amused.

I don't know how prepared the men coming our way are going to be, but I have no doubt that they are no match for us together.

Her lips curl around the corners as she bats her lashes at me, her arm coming to rest around my shoulder.

"You don't have to ask twice," she purrs slowly.

I may have taught her how to fight and hold her own, but we'd also trained so we could complement each other in a battle. Inspired by the first time we'd faced those men in the restaurant, we'd practiced for hours until our bodies became in sync—not that they weren't already.

There's something about the way we communicate. Half the time words are obsolete as one glance says everything.

The sounds of boots hitting the floor becomes louder and louder until the five men I'd counted appear in sight, weapons raised and aiming at us.

"You know it might hurt, right?" I drawl as I trail my hand down her back, where her latex suit is covering bulletproof equipment.

"You can kiss it better later," she murmurs.

My lips are already on hers, the corner of my eye studying the movements of the men as they charge and…

I spin her around to a silent tune, the only noise the bullets whizzing past us as we move in sync, avoiding most incoming shots, while closing the distance between us and the men.

It's a waltz of death as Sisi and I glide on the floor, every step taking us closer to our targets.

And just as I see that we're in the right spot, I spread my hands over her waist, raising her up in the air.

The men seem completely baffled by our display, and they're not even trying to aim at us any more, bullets fly haphazardly in all directions as one barks some orders at the others to focus.

It's in vain, though, as their eyes are stuck on Sisi's sinful shape as she twirls in the air. Almost mesmerized, they don't even see the knives as they shoot out of her hands and land in their chests.

The leader of the unit screams some commands as two men go down, the others immediately entering a different formation as they surround us.

"Ready?" I ask, smirking.

"Let's do this," she says, her hands firmly on my shoulders as I swoop her in the air, her legs stretched out, the blades at the tip of her shoes extended. Spinning her around, I give her enough momentum to coordinate the attack, her blades nipping two men right at their jugulars, blood immediately gushing out.

"One more behind me, hell girl," I whisper, lifting her high before lowering her to the ground and pushing her backwards. She glides on the ground between my legs, and bracing herself on her elbows, she sends her foot right in the last man's face, the blade making contact with the area under his chin.

Finger on the trigger, he manages one last shot before he drops dead.

"Well." I dust my suit, opening up my shirt to remove the bullet stuck in my bulletproof vest. "I'd say that went well."