Page 96 of Descent

“Exactly. And she has her bogeyman.”

“Not to mention the entire Western world authorities at her beck and call for a manhunt.”

“Which means we need to get scarce.” Dom sits down, meeting both of our eyes.

“We?” Circe mutters.

“Yeah. We.”

“Why would Circe and I work with you?”

Dom smiles again, raising his eyebrows. “You need a bankroll if you’re going to run. And I need bodyguards.”

“Fuck. He has a point.”

“And besides, family gotta stick together.”

I’ve just gotten usedto the buzz of the parking lot lights when they abruptly cut off. Darkness meets my opening eyes.

Circe stirs next to me in bed, inhaling.

Staring at the ceiling, it takes me a moment to recognize what’s wrong. Too quiet. Too dark.

My nostrils flare.

A familiar scent. Smoke.

From a very specific tool used by a very specific group.

I’m up and in my boots, my gun in my hand in one motion, shaking Circe. Then Dom.

“Up. Now. Gotta go.”

“Hrng?” Dom grunts.

Circe is already standing behind the door, her gun ready, her bag in hand.

“The fuck is going on?” Dom whispers, staggering stiffly from his bed. At least he senses the urgency.

“Assassins.”

“What? Which assassins?” He’s wild eyes now, watching the curtains.

“The worst kind. Mocro. The Hand.”

“Bullshit. If it was them, we’d already be dead.”

“Trust me, it’s them.” I back against the wall, waving for Dom to follow suit.

“How do you know?” he asks, more curious and worried than skeptical.

“Because I used to be one of them.” I grin humorlessly, cocking my gun.

The window explodes, shooting glass across the room.

26

CIRCE

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