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As if that matters anymore.

Hijruun grabs his enormous cleaver and slices the closest gunman in two, then swings it back, using the blunt side to crush the skull of another.

Candy goes Jade and drops back behind the bone curtain, before bursting out again and bringing down two more gunmen.

I can’t move as fast as Candy or Hijruun, so I empty the Glock and the Colt at the shooters. Each bullet hits, but the bastards are wearing body armor so all the shots do is make them dance a little. I retreat around the side of Hijruun’s tower and disappear into a shadow. When they come around for me, I jam the black blade into the base of the second shooter’s skull. By the time the first one has turned around, I’ve disappeared again. Come out by the side of a tree, swinging the na’at like a sword, slashing through his armor. As he falls, he fires wildly. I dive for cover, but not before a shot ricochets off my Kissi arm and slices my cheek. Perfect. I’m going to die even uglier now. By the time the idiot hits the ground, he’s blown through his clip, so I pig-stick the bastard through the heart.

Just as I turn to check on Candy, something hits me in the side of the neck.

I rip it out.

It’s a tiny dart.

I fall.

There’s a gunman standing right over me.

I get one last look at Hijruun lying facedown on the bone trail and Candy being chased into the forest by a couple more shooters.

And I pass out.

I DON’T KNOW how long I was unconscious. My head hurts like someone ran over it with a tank, but that could be the drugs or the fact I got shot in the fucking face. Blood is steadily oozing, down my cheek. I touch the wound and my hand comes back slick with something the color of old motor oil.

“Anyone got a Band-Aid?”

We’re in a big room. A huge damn room. Four of the masked shooters stand over me with their rifles ready to put many more holes in my body. That’s the last thing I want right now, so I stay down with my hands in plain sight.

One of the shooters squats next to me and yanks off their balaclava.

It’s Marcella.

“Did you find that pay phone I told you about?”

She shakes her head.

“I gave a cabbie the twenty to borrow his phone.”

“That is simpler. But doesn’t he have your pricks’ phone number now?”

Marcella sighs dramatically. “We had to take him into custody. If he’

s good, we’ll make some modifications to his memory and send him home with a new phone.”

“You keep telling yourself that, but Wormwood doesn’t have a good track record with catch and release.”

She cocks her head at me.

“You keep saying ‘Wormwood’ like the organizations are interchangeable. They’re the ones who want nothing more than to murder humanity. We want to improve it.”

“From what I’ve seen, you’re both pretty okay with the idea of mass murder. What about your ritual at the chapel? There are four million people in L.A. How many were you looking to kill? One million as an object lesson to the others or all of them so you could repopulate the city with your Stepford Assholes?”

Marcella looks up at the other shooters. They haven’t moved an inch. She stands up.

“What if I explained our position to you from the beginning? Would you even listen?”

“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Wormwood explained and justified itself to me before. It was all lies. Your bunch? You’re the same shit just in a shiny new package.”

“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind? Just to get you to be quiet for a while and listen?”