Page 10 of Miami Heat (Urban Heat 3)

“Since it seems we’re making corny declarations,” she said as she raised the hemline of her dress and pulled out her knife, and then checked that they were alone. “I’m going to gut you and send you back to wherever you came from.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He lunged at her, and she easily parried his swing. One thing she’d been taught from the beginning and that was to avoid being bitten or scratched by a shifter. Some, but not all, could make others like them with one of those methods. Not knowing if this thing had that ability, she took no chances. She would have to make sure he didn’t land any blows.

They performed a deadly dance, the man leaping at her, and Sakura bobbing out of the way in time. She tried slicing into his belly, but he was fast. Looking into his menacing eyes told her the problem was much more than his speed though. He had something more going for him, and she needed to be extra careful. At times like this, she realized why she needed a protector.

The man feigned left, and Sakura tried moving with him. The next second he brought a long, thin arm down over her head. As if in slow motion, she saw the claws and knew they’d drag along her face. Her heart thundered, deafening her. She bent backward, balancing momentarily on the balls of her feet. Her thighs burned, and back muscles cramped. She swung up to block the blow. Shirt material ripped, and she hit the ground. Another slice through the air, and she dragged her knife across his arm. The man howled in pain and drew back. He banged against a car, holding his forearm as blood gushed between his fingers. Sakura rolled over and regained her footing. She checked her blouse. The material hung in ribbons, exposing her bra, but her skin remained unscathed. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The two of them circled each other, Sakura not daring to take her eyes off the man. He bared his teeth, hissing and growling. She assumed he meant the tactic to scare her, and it did a little. Fear always drove her adrenaline higher and made her stronger and faster, so she welcomed it. She spun the knife in her hand and flexed her shoulders. Time to end this before someone catches us.

Sakura raised her knife, her muscles tight and ready. The man cracked his knuckles with each curl of his fingers. If possible, the claws seemed more menacing, but she forced her attention away from them to watch his eyes. Where they went, that’s where the man would go. She decided if she was to overcome his speed, she’d win this fight, and that meant striking first with intent to kill.

Swallowing all fear and hesitation, she charged.

“Sakura, no!”

The weight hit her hard in the back, sending her flying forward, and because she’d been going that way anyway, she couldn’t stop or control how she smashed into the shifter. The slight barrier pushed against the tip of her knife and then gave, allowing the weapon to sink deep into flesh. Sakura, the man, and the bastard on her back hit one of the parked cars and then dropped to the ground. Thinking of the shifter’s claws, Sakura didn’t have time to lie there, wondering what happened. She thrust out from the sandwich of men, pulling her knife with her and rolled over onto her back. Roger stumbled to his knees and leaned over her. She aimed the now bloodied knife at him.

“You’d better explain yourself right now,” she panted.

Roger’s eyes were wide, and he’d gone pale. He held up his hands in surrender then struggled to his feet and backed away. “I…he had claws. He was about to kill you.”

Sakura glanced at the shifter who lay still on the ground. By sheer luck, her knife entered his heart. She blew out a breath and stood up. “You idiot. Stay behind the computer where you belong. You almost got me killed.”

“I was just—”

She glared at him, and he fell silent. “You were trying to be my hero. I have people who are trained to fight alongside me, and they don’t put my life at risk.” His head hung, and she groaned under her breath. “Thanks for trying. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, right.” He chuckled.

Sakura pulled her cell phone out and hesitated. She eyed Roger. “You can help me a lot more if you’ve got a contact here, someone I can call for cleanup?”

A slow smile spread over Roger’s face. “Of course.” He pulled out his cell as well, but Sakura stopped him from making the call. She peered over his shoulder and recorded the number to her own phone.

“Try to keep anyone from seeing, okay?”

Roger nodded as she strode some ways from him back to the street. Cars zoomed by. A man sipped from a Styrofoam cup while he drove his scooter. She noticed how he looked at her rather than the parked delivery truck ahead of him and gave him a pointed stare. He turned away and yelped when he almost ran up onto the lowered ramp. She shook her head.

On the opposite side of the street stood an old Spanish style building, its courtyard a jungle of overgrown bushes and palm trees. She checked the windows above and considered whether anyone might have seen the fight in the parking garage, but doubted it. After confirming no one walked nearby, she dialed the number Roger gave her.

The contact picked up on the second ring. “Is this Charles Aiza?”

“Yes,” he said with hesitation in his tone. She guessed he saw the six one nine area code and knew it must be someone from her family.

“I need a cleanup,” she told him, without identifying herself first. “Can you handle it for me?”

“O-of course. Yes, I can. Um, Ms. Keith?”

So he knew who she was, and they were on the same page. Good. “Please refrain from using that name.” Were they all newbies now?

“I’m sorry. Of course.”

Not long after, men arrived at their location. They were nondescript, drove a plain white van, and said nothing as they scooped up the dead shifter, searched the area for anything that might have been left behind, and were gone.

“Wow, first time I’ve seen that,” Roger said behind her.

Sakura shrugged. “I have, all over the world, and even with varied languages spoken, it’s the same. They come in, do their job, and melt away. I always wonder who they are in their regular life. Do they have kids? Do they go bowling with the boys on Thursday nights?”

---