Page 92 of Sacrifice
Just keeps cleaning, bandaging, tending to the damage I earned keeping her safe.
"The intel you grabbed," she says, needing a distraction from the blood. "What were they tracking?"
"Everything. Our routines, our weaknesses. Who lives where, who's connected to whom." I pull her closer with my good arm. "They had your work schedule. Your apartment layout. Even knew about your coffee order at Beans & Babes."
She shivers. "That's..."
"These weren't just street thugs. Los Coyotes sent real players."
"And now they're dead."
"Now they're dead," I confirm. "But there'll be more. This was just the first wave."
"Then we'll be ready."
"We?"
"I'm not sitting on the sidelines anymore." Her voice is firm. "I want to learn to shoot properly. To fight. To be useful when the next wave comes."
"Saga—"
"Don't argue. You said I'm stronger than I know. So teach me. Make me strong enough to stand beside you instead of behind you."
I think about everything she’s saying.
Every instinct says to keep her separate from the violence.
But she's already in it, already a target. Better she knows how to defend herself.
"All right. When my arm's better, we'll start training."
"Promise?"
"Yeah. But you might regret asking. I'm a hard teacher."
"I can handle hard."
"I know you can."
She finishes bandaging, then curls against my good side. "Tell me what really happened tonight. All of it."
So I do. The approach, breaking down the door, the firefight. Even the woods, though I keep those details clinical.
She listens without judgment, processing the violence that's now part of her world.
"Six men," she says when I'm done. "Six men who'll never hurt anyone again."
"Seven, counting the runner."
"Good." The viciousness in her voice matches mine. "I want them all dead. Every last one who had a hand in hurting Elfe or coming after us."
"That's my girl."
"Your bloodthirsty girl, apparently."
"Best kind."
Outside, I can hear celebration—bikes revving, voices raised in victory.
