Page 18 of Veil of Smoke

I don’t wait.

I swing for his hand. The bat cracks against bone. He drops the knife.

Before he can recover, I hit his knee.

He goes down again—this time he stays down.

The guy in the suit has the gun now, but his hands are shaking.

I kick it out of reach, grab his collar, and slam his face into the bar top.

“Who sent you?” I hiss.

Blood fills his mouth. “We didn’t come for you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Wrong night. Wrong girl.”

That hits me hard.

“What girl?”

His eyes shift. He realizes his mistake too late.

I drop him.

People are screaming. The stage is dead quiet. Smoke curls from a tipped-over candle near the back booth—thickening fast.

Someone pulls the fire alarm. A shrill blare floods the room.

I grab the bar with one hand and vault over.

Rita glares at me. “This ain’t your personal war zone.”

“They made it one.” I pull her closer. “You see anyone else?”

“One more. Out the front before you started swinging. No ID. Grey jacket. Didn’t panic.”

“Scout.”

She nods.

“They’re testing the perimeter,” I mutter. “Getting bold.”

“Too bold.”

I straighten. “Corradino’s not guessing anymore.”

“You think he’s aiming at the girl?”

“He’s aiming through her.”

“Then you need to stop circling and choose.”

“I already did.”

She tosses me a towel. “Then mop up, because you’re dripping.”

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