Page 81 of Zirkov

Zirkov’s horns shot straight up. “Krike!”

“That’s a strong reaction coming from a male who’s not her sholan.” The corner of Konnitch’s mouth kicked up.

“Drekk you. Why are you pushing me to be with Maggie?”

“Because you’re not thinking or seeing straight when it comes to her. I recognize the signs. Kaci and I resisted for a long time.”

“Drop it, Konnitch. I’m not Maggie’s sholan. And she’s the one not thinking straight. She’s trying to prove herself to me, us… drekk, maybe herself.”

Konnitch checked his comm and then pointed up. “She’s still here. One of the floors above us.”

The sound of a gunshot sent Zirkov running to the stairs, with Konnitch not far behind him. When Zirkov reached the top step, he inched the door to the roof open.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw a body by the HVAC unit, dark blood pooling around short blonde hair.

“Zirkov,” Konnitch yelled out from the other side of the HVAC unit. “She’s over here.”

Zirkov rolled the body over. Male, four arms. Og’dal, with a bullet to the head. Relief swept through him. After checking for a pulse to confirm the og’dal no longer posed a threat, he joined Konnitch. Maggie sat against the HVAC, her forehead bruised and bloody, but otherwise fine.

“Hi, Z,” she said with a genuine, though pained smile. “What took you so long to find me?” Her eyes scrunched together. “Scratch that.Howdid you find me?”

“It’s a long story.” He couldn’t manage more than a few words without yelling at her for coming here without backup. He still hadn’t calmed down from seeing that body and thinking she was dead.

“Not a long story at all,” Konnitch said as he examined her wound. “I put a tracker in your right boot before you left the hospital. On Zirkov’s orders.”

Maggie didn’t get upset with Konnitch’s revelation. She barely blinked. Zirkov knelt beside her and pushed the blonde bangs off her forehead. She winced as he touched the fresh scrape. “You’re injured.”

“You’re so observant, Sherlock.”

“It’s Zirkov. Similar cadence, but a different name. We should find a doctor to check you for a concussion.”

“It was a joke,” she said, straining to smile. “And I’m not mad that you put a tracker in my boot.”

“That convinces me to take you to the hospital.”

“I’m too tired to be mad, okay? Where’s the og’dal?”

“Dead.”

She lifted her hand and stared at the gun in her hand. The faint smell of gunpowder lingered. “I shot him?”

“Yes. Unless there was someone else up here.”

With her empty hand, she reached to the scrape on her head and then held her hands out to examine them. No scrapes or bruises indicating a fight.

“Just the og’dal and me.”

“If the DAA questions you, you tell them it was self-defense. You have an injury, he doesn’t.”

She rotated her gun, inspecting it from all sides. “I don’t remember firing.”

“One shot. To his head. Did he follow you up here?”

Her hand went to her head again. “Someone slammed me into a wall when I opened the door to the roof. I guess he was already here.” Her answers came slowly as if she was struggling to form the words.

“Why were you up here, Maggie?” Konnitch asked as Zirkov helped her to her feet.

She looked up at Konnitch, then him. “I don’t know…”

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