Page 12

ERO

“ W here are you?”

“I’m right here where I said I would be,” Circe hums, instantly making my jaw clench.

“Helpful. I still don’t see you,” I grit through my teeth. She’s been pushing my buttons since we left Italy. Like she wants our first mission to fail. Or maybe she’s just hazing me.

After days of training and strategizing together Ananke gave us out first assignment. Our skills are more than a match for each other, complementary even. I started to think we were going to make this work.

Until we got to Hong Kong.

I guess all the practice in the world can’t make us get along worth a damn. Especially when she continuously tries to one-up me.

“Do I need to come show you how to use a scope?”

“No, I’ve got a manual for that, unlike you.”

“Oh, so you can read.”

Adjusting the focus, I scan along the path of the square, the sidewalk. I can practically see the pores on people’s faces with this thing. At night.

Cutting edge shit.

At least Pantheon doesn’t hold back on the gear. Our safe house is swank, the tools unlimited. Anything we want: contacts, cars, guns. Ananke has a seemingly bottomless bank account.

I wish I had a bottomless well of patience to draw from for my partner.

“Speaking of reading, did you have the map right side up? I still don’t?—”

“I’m standing right on the corner . Across from the noodle stand. Like we decided. Fucking idiot,” she mumbles under her breath.

“You know I can hear everything you say.”

“Really? I didn’t know that’s how two-way coms worked. Maybe you should keep that in mind when you’re talking to yourself. It’s bad enough listening to you do it at the compound.”

Ciro shrugs awkwardly, sitting against the wall of the window I’m aimed out of. I really need to be more discreet about talking to my hallucination ghosts.

“Ah, you are spying on me.”

“You want to go there? I’ve seen you creeping out on the roof across the courtyard, peeking in my window.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. If I wanted to see you naked, I’d tear your clothes off and have at it.”

“Assuming I let you,” she growls, her voice lowering to a tone that makes me want to?—

“Oh yeah? I didn’t realize this was a one-way street. So it’s okay for you to just come into my roo?—”

“Speaking of one-way streets, Ero. I’m on the corner. Of two one-way streets . In position.”

“Fine. I’m about to shoot the dude standing on that corner and you can be responsible for the death of an innocent?—”

“You are such a drama queen!” A chuckle tints her words and I can picture her head tipping to the side like it does when she laughs.

Almost exactly like the old Chinese man standing on the corner just did…

I zoom in, looking closer. The bearded man glances right at me.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” It’s her. Even with the contacts, I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. But she blends in on this street like nobody’s business.

“How did you?—?”

“It’s my specialty, jackass. Now let me do my job, and then you do yours. I’ll lead the target out, get him into position, and you take the shot. It’s pretty simple, isn’t it?” She shrugs her shoulders, lighting up a cigarette.

“Yeah, simple. What would have been simple is you not dressing up like a fucking old man.”

“Does it bother you that I’m dressed in men’s clothes?”

“No. Why would I give a shit? It just wasted time and effort.”

“Right, because a tall, gorgeous woman with exotic eyes and curly hair would blend right in. No one’s looked twice at me.”

“Where were you going to get a gorgeous woman with exotic eyes? I didn’t see one in our gear.”

“Asshole.” But I see her mouth tick up in a smile. She steps off the curb, crossing to flank the club entrance.

Our target went in two hours ago. Only three hours after I posted up here. I hate the waiting. But this is the only time Lenny Ma ever makes an appearance: his monthly trip to the strip joint-gambling den known as Shuāng Jiǎozǐ .

“Heh. ‘Twin Dumplings’. Classic,” Ciro snickers.

“Not now. Please.” The last thing I need is two people heckling me.

“Hey, you thought it. I’m not even here, big guy.”

A flick of my head and a shrug loosens my growing tension. In a snap, he’s gone, replaced with precious silence. And loneliness.

“Who are you talking to?” Circe intones, her voice low.

“No one.”

“I’m stuck in Hong Kong with the insane man babbling to himself on the mic, holding a sniper rifle pointed at my head. How did I get here?”

“Yeah. Well, you wanted me along for the ride. You got what you asked for, sister.”

“Ew. Don’t call me that.”

“I regretted it the minute I said it,” I groan.

“I regret wearing women’s underwear to a stakeout. Silk’s riding up my crack like a motherfucker.” Ciro squirms.

I did not just almost laugh at him.

“Heads up. Target’s coming your way.”

“No shit?” she snips, ducking into the shadows by the corner of the building.

“The thanks I get for trying to be a good teammate.”

“You’re being a mother hen,” Circe says, “Just like Artemis.”

“Who?”

“No one. Mind your scope.”

“You’re unbearable, Circe.”

“I’m unbearable? Have you heard the sound of your own voice?”

“I can’t over your squawking.”

“Are you finished?”

“Let’s go radio silent, how about it?” I sigh, trailing the suited gangster and his entourage. “ For the rest of the trip .”

“Fine by me. If you can keep your crazy thoughts to yourself.”

“I’m this close to either shooting you or giving you a piece of my mind if you don’t shut it.”

“I’d love to see you try,” she snips.

“I swear, when we get back to the safe house I am going to scream into a pillow.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time. I’ve been dying to make you scream all day.”

My jaw clacks shut, a rush of heat filling my head. Both of them.

Squirming against the tightness of my pants, I follow her through the crowds, trailing our mark. She’s good. Never too close, never losing Lenny or his three brutes in the scattering of late-night revelers.

Until a jumble of traffic and bystanders obscures my line of sight for a moment.

Lenny’s guys emerge from the crowd, heading another direction.

Suddenly, the group pauses, words are exchanged.

They fall back into step, moving more carefully as they cross toward what looks like an abandoned warehouse.

“Circe? You need to stop them from going into the warehouse.”

“No need, I nicked his wallet. He saw me, just barely. They’re following me.”

Risky. Smart if it works.

“Look for me on the roof.”

“Sure thing. I’ll have a front-row show to them filling you with lead if you mess this up. Shoving myself to my feet, I take the stairs to the upper balcony of the penthouse, dodging the plastic tarping and scaffolding of the renovations.

Thank you, Mr. Leung, for leaving town for the week.

Not that he’ll ever know I was here. Wedging myself against the wall and the stone railing, I kick my foot up, set the kickstand, and cradle the stock against my shoulder again.

A few minutes slip by, silence, then a scuffle through the mic, a grunt, a strangled yelp. I ignore it. The rustling continues for a moment longer before Circe chokes, “Er…A little help?”

“You got this.”

“Rrrrg!” Circe snarls in frustration, grappling with a much bigger opponent.

From my vantage, she’s really putting up a good fight.

Even if Lenny does have a garrote wrapped around her neck.

She keeps one hand near her throat, blocking the wire as she kicks off the wall, rams an elbow into the guy’s ribs. Damn. Guy just won’t give up.

“Should I … ?”

“Er!”

“Say pretty please,” I offer flatly, taking aim.

“Pretty pl-please?—”

“Hold still.”

“Go fuck your—” Her words get lost in the clap of my shot. A shower of crimson explodes all over her. “Aw come on! You did that on purpose.”

“Uh, yeah. I saved your life on purpose.”

“There’s not enough shampoo in the world…”

“Meet you at the rendezvous point!” And I’m off. The gear is in my bag and I’m heading toward the door when I hear a scuffle and a curse outside. In a flash, I’m across the living room and through the window, out onto the scaffolding outside.

Two shadows rush into the room behind me, one of them shouting as I drop to the next tier.

Right into the flashing blade of a machete. Who uses a fucking machete?!

A flick of my boot redirects the slash and I knee the attacker in the face with my spare leg, sending him crashing through the crossbar. Thumps above me are way too close behind.

Leaping to the next plank, I almost miss, landing on my tiptoes on the edge of the board and flailing my arms to catch my balance. Losing that battle, I drop straight back, right into the guy chasing me.

My head bumps his chest. He shouts, jumping back. Reaching over my head, I slap his knife aside, my other hand stops my fall. And conveniently finds the handle of the machete.

Pinwheeling like a breakdancer, I launch the blade right at his fat head.

Good throw.

The machete takes him in the face, lodging into his cheekbone.

Ouch.

Almost looks as painful as his graceless flip over the beam behind him and the clang of a metal dumpster several stories below. Two down.

Swinging from bar to bar gets me all the way down to the street where I set off at a casual walking pace. No sense drawing more attention.

A chill flashes over my neck.

I duck back immediately, slamming down onto my knees, flat onto my back with my feet trapped under me as the roundhouse kick that should have taken out my head rebounds against the concrete of the building.

“Ai yā!” he screams, his shin snapping like a twig.

Using my momentum and the tension in my knees, I spring back up. The rebound drives my fist at lightning speed right into his balls.

“Sweet marble mashers!” Ciro cringes, watching from the corner.

“No rules when someone’s trying to kill you,” I explain, my hand snapping straight to his mouth to clamp down over another scream.

Choke hold. Drop him in the alley.

I’m back on track.