Page 91 of Blood & Throttle
“I don’t care if my leg’s still bleeding. I don’t care if I’m a target. She would’ve gone to war for me and shedid. So don’t you dare try to shut me out.”
“This isn’t your fight.”
I shove him.
It’s small, it doesn’t move him but it makes him listen.
“Itbecamemy fight the second Jace painted a bullseye on my back. But now it’s more than that. He didn’t just come for me. He came forher. Forus.”
I stare at the mess of wires and tubing wrapped around the strongest woman I’ve ever met.
“She’s not gonna fight alone. And neither are you.”
Riot’s eyes don’t soften.
They sharpen.
But he nods.
Once.
And just like that, we’ve drawn our line in the sand.
They came for one of ours.
Now we’re coming for all of them.
Ghost pulls up the layout on his feed, the drone footage grainy but sharp enough to make out movement, heat signatures, and patterns. He leans over the table, fingers swiping across the projected map.
“I’ve been watching their rotations since we got here,” he says. “This warehouse here—off-grid, east side of the rail hub. They’ve been using it for private deals. Weapons. Bikes. Parts. One of Jace’s lieutenants drops in regularly. He’s due back tonight.”
I study the screen. The area is mostly shadows and steel. Minimal Syndicate patrols. Low camera traffic.
“Can we hit it without drawing handler heat?” I ask.
Ghost shrugs. “There’s no rules, but off-track kills make them twitchy. Too much cleanup. Too much attention. We need a distraction.”
Bishop steps forward, cracking his knuckles. “I can stir up shit at the checkpoint. Throw just enough smoke and noise to keep the Syndicate wranglers busy.”
Ghost nods. “That’ll give you about twenty minutes before they realize it’s a fake lead.”
“Plenty,” I mutter.
Bishop crosses his arms. “And Doc?”
Riot’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue.
“I’ll stay back and sit with her,” Luca says before anyone else can speak. “Leave Taz with me too, we’ll be fine.”
I nod, throat tight. “Thank you.”
Ghost taps the table once, sharp and final. “Then it’s set. Bishop draws attention west. Luca guards the infirmary. You two hit the east route—get in, clean, send a message.”
No applause. No rallying cry. Just quiet resolve settling in our bones.
We move out.
By the time Riot and I make it back to our quarters, the air’s already changed. He closes the door behind us, and the weight of what we’re about to do settles over the room like smoke.
