Page 63 of Toxic Vengeance

“On my mark.” She stood and knelt at the corner of the building while he crossed the alley and stood with his back to the wall, giving them a wider combined angle of attack. She waited several heartbeats, holding his gaze, straining to listen for any sounds of movement coming up the alley. “And…now.”

She whipped around the corner, spotted the shadow beside the Dumpster, and fired two shots at it. Zack fired at the same time from his position.

The shadow dropped.

Eden ran toward it, weapon aimed, ready to fire again. She could hear Zack moving behind her but didn’t look back, leaving him to guard their six because all her attention was on the threat in front of them.

The shadow moved slightly. Eden fired two more shots but nothing came back at them.

Putting on a burst of speed, Eden raced for the shooter. “Face down and let me see your hands,” she snarled.

A muffled groan came from beside the Dumpster.

“Face down, now,” Eden snapped, less than twenty feet away now.

Still nothing.

Eden reached under the Dumpster to grab whatever she could get hold of—a wad of material—and pulled.

Dragging the person out, she let go, shocked when the woman glared up at her. Young. Barely in her twenties if Eden had to guess. What the hell?

The woman’s weapon lay fallen out of her reach. Eden snagged it, stuck it in her waistband as she flipped the woman over onto her back and straddled her. Blood poured out of the shooter’s abdomen, wetting her black cargo pants.

“Who are you, and why are you after us?” Eden demanded, Zack slightly behind her and off to the side, guarding them. She did a quick search for other weapons, froze when she saw the mark on the woman’s left hip in the gap above the waistband. Not a brand like hers. A tat. But it was a stylized symbol, eerily similar to hers.

What thehell?

“Who are you?” Eden snapped, out of patience.

The woman didn’t answer, eyes burning with resentment, lips white with pain.

“Talk,” Eden demanded, grabbing the woman’s jaw.

Dark blue eyes remained locked with hers in defiance. Then those white lips curled into a half-smirk that sent a warning prickle across Eden’s nape, and a telltale crunch sounded as the woman bit down.

“No—” Eden grabbed the woman’s throat, trying to stop her from swallowing, but too late. “Shit,” she snarled, the distinctive bitter almond smell hitting her a split second before the convulsions started. Shit, shit, shit.

She jerked back.

“What the hell,” Zack said, starting forward as if he was going to try to help the woman.

“No,” Eden said sharply, flinging out an arm to stop him. “It’s too late, the potassium cyanide’s already mixed with the hydrochloric acid in her stomach.” The woman vomited, still convulsing. “Hydrogen cyanide can be inhaled and absorbed through the skin. Don’t touch it—”

“Look out!”

She jerked around at his warning shout, weapon up, her heart seizing when saw a man fifty feet away aiming a rifle at them.

She was dimly aware that Zack had dropped to one knee as the men fired simultaneously.

Eden held her breath and fired twice as gunfire roared through the narrow alley. Bullets peppered the Dumpster behind her, missing her by inches.

The man holding the rifle fell to his knees, rifle still in his grip, and toppled sideways.

Eden raced at him, weapon aimed at his chest, and fired again. He jerked as the bullets hit him but didn’t fall. Before she could fire again, a bullet plowed through his forehead.

He dropped like a ragdoll, his hand going lax around the rifle.

“Motherfucker,” she breathed, her heart banging against her ribs. She hadn’t even known he was behind them, would be dead right now if Zack hadn’t alerted her and fired when he had.

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