Page 15 of Celestial Combat

The girl was trapped.

She pressed herself against the brick wall, one hand clutched to her ribs. I saw the dark, wet bloom on her side. She wasn’t breathing right – shallow, desperate pulls. Still, her eyes were sharp.

They moved in when they saw the fear on her face.

And she…Attacked?

She moved like a knife with no sheath – sloppy, wild, but lethal. The first man took a knee to the groin and a blade to the throat before he could even swear. The second caught her arm, grinned – then screamed as she carved a half-moon across his cheek and stabbed up through his jaw.

Blood painted the walls in arcs. The girl stumbled, falling to one knee, breathing hard. The third man grabbed her by the back of her hoodie, yanking her up.

I stepped behind him. Slipped the wire from the lining of my jacket. Looped it around his throat and pulled.

He made one sound. Then nothing.

I tightened until I felt him go loose. His lifeless body thumped to the ground.

She leaned against the brick wall, breath ragged. Her hoodie was damp, the blood on her side soaking through in thick streaks. One of the bodies behind us let out a last wet rattle.The jazz from the street felt far away now, like it was playing for someone else’s night.

“Thanks,” She said, eyes still scanning the surroundings.

I glanced at the mess she left. “You got all the targets?”

“I killed their boss.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” She groaned, clutching her side tighter.

“You did good for your first job.”

She looked up sharply. “Not my first.”

My brow rose.

“Long story,” She added.

My eyes flicked to the dark stain spreading beneath her hand. “You gonna go to a hospital?”

She gave me a look like I’d asked if she believed in unicorns.

“Alright,” I said, crouching beside her. “Let’s see. How bad?”

She pulled her hoodie up and lifted her shirt just enough. The wound was rough – shallow but messy. I’d seen worse.Hadworse.

I pulled a gauze pad from the inside of my jacket. Unfolded it with care, then looked at her for a nod before I pressed the gauze gently over the cut. She didn’t flinch.

“You’re gonna have to disinfect that later, alright?”

“Yup. Thank you.”

I stood and extended a hand. “Zane.”

She shook it, her grip surprisingly steady. “Maria.”

“Let’s get you something to eat.”

The diner was nearly empty. Plastic booths, checkered floor, walls stained with old smoke and memory. A neon “OPEN” buzzed faintly in the window. The waitress didn’t blink when we walked in – Miami saw all kinds.

---