Page 56 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

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T he second she stepped out, I knew talking was over.

Her stance, the angle of her weapon—Sable wasn’t here to posture. She was here to end it.

She moved first.

Two quick shots, center mass.

I twisted, felt the burn in my shoulder flare as I shoved Aponi behind a rusted container wall. The rounds sparked off steel, close enough to feel the heat.

“Stay low,” I growled.

Her reply was flat. “Not without you.”

Sable rounded the corner, fast and low. I fired twice—she ducked the first, deflected the second with a glancing shot off her forearm guard, and came in swinging. The butt of her pistol clipped my jaw, snapping my head sideways.

I answered with a hard elbow to her ribs. She grunted but didn’t give ground. And then we heard a shot and she fell dead before she hit the ground. I looked around and was shocked that one of their men had killed her.