Page 59 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
Malaikah’s stomach clenched so hard she nearly threw up. Gripping the top of the gate, she folded in half and breathed through the wave of nausea. Her best friend, her sister, was shacked up with a lethal assassin complicit in a genocide.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” A cold sweat broke out across her brow.
She straightened, forcing herself to shake it off. She’d had this internal debate before. All night last night, and then all day, too, including during her damned performance, which had resulted in her missing the one-armed handstand at the finale. She’d flung herself off the trapeze into a triple backflip instead, sinking a perfect landing, which had actually been pretty cool, but still.
The fact remained that she was sick with worry.
But she’d also concluded that she wasn’t doing anything without speaking to Harrow first. Their friendship was too solid for Malaikah not to give her the benefit of the doubt. She owed that to Harrow and knew Harrow would do the same for her.
So here Malaikah was, sneaking out to visit Harrow the night after her successful escape, though it was exceedingly risky. What was the most obvious thing she could do after Salizar had dropped that bomb on her? Visit Harrow. And what was she doing? Visiting Harrow.
But she had to. What Salizar had told her was too serious to delay.
She just had to be extra, extra sneaky.
After a few pats and handfuls of hay, Malaikah snuck back out of the stables. As far as her senses told her, no one had followed her. Keeping a watchful eye out, she set off toward her next destination, doing her same double-back-and-hide routine all the way to the Underground.
There, even at this hour, the hum of voices was discernible from several nearby locations. If she ran and darted about as she had in the other area, she would only draw attention to herself. Instead, she walked purposefully, hood still hiding her face, and tried to look uninteresting.
Ahead of her was a bustling tavern, though not the one she was aiming for. She stopped abruptly, scenting the air. Something felt off. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She spun around, ears twitching beneath her hood, and heard the slightest movement behind her.
Claws out, she spun back around and came face-to-face with a huge man with a shaved head, a long leather jacket, and a mean face. Immediately, her paranoia about what Sal had told her flared back to life. Was he hired by the Kambu usurper to kill her?
Fight first, ask questions later.If he was, it was too late to hide her identity, and the hood would impair her vision, so she whipped it off a second before slashing her claws out. Her assailant ducked back, moving like liquid.
She swiped again. He dodged effortlessly, and the bastard actually had the nerve to grin at her. Long fangs poked out of his menacing smile.
Taunting a panther? Bad idea.
She growled again and slashed out, going for his side, though it was well protected by his thick jacket. He flowed out of reach once more, so fast that he nearly managed to go in a complete circle around her before she even realized he’d moved. Whowasthis guy?
She swiped again anyway, trying to predict where he’d end up, but the motherfucker anticipated that and went the other way. He was fast, perhaps too fast, and he still hadn’t tried to strike her, which pissed her off.
“Fight me, asshole!” She swiped violently in all directions with her claws. Any other opponent, she’d have slit their throat seven times over, but not him.
The next time she struck, he snatched her wrists in midair.
Fuck.She struggled violently in his grip, but it was unrelenting. He loomed over her, his clenched jaw the only indication he was exerting himself at all. She kicked up her knee, aiming for his crotch, but he twisted out of reach. So she did it again. And again.
Finally, he started to look annoyed, like he was wondering why the little female wouldn’t shut up and submit already. Releasing one wrist, he yanked suddenly on her other one, hard. The tug sent her stumbling forward, where he spun her with another violent jerk and then grabbed her free wrist again before she could retaliate.
She ended up with her back to his front, arms caught uselessly behind her. Trapped.
She threw her head back, colliding with his skull. He grunted. His grip loosened infinitesimally, and she was seconds away from freedom, but then a heavy boot crashed into the back of her knees, and she went down, kneecaps screaming from the hard landing on the cobblestones. From there, she tried a throw, using her weight to unbalance him, but the bastard was way too big and too skilled a fighter, and she couldn’t get any momentum from here anyway.
Finally, she stilled, accepting defeat. For now. The second he relaxed, she’d be on him. Until then, she’d conserve her strength.
“You finished?” He was twisting her arms and pulling them upward enough that the threat of an easy break loomed. She was pleased to hear he sounded out of breath, considering she was gasping for it.
“Fuck you!”
“Look around. You’re surrounded by my men. Try to fight again, you won’t get anywhere.”
She did look, and sure enough, a tight circle had formed around them, each guy as nasty-looking as the first. They were all tall and built and clad in black. All Hybrids, she realized. She scented the air, and then it hit her.
AllcoldbloodedHybrids.
This was the Ouroboros gang. The gang that ran the entire Underground.
