"Who sent you?"
In one motion, she pulled the knife and closed the distance. The man barely flinched. He sidestepped, caught her wrist, twisted. Pain shot up her arm, but she rode the momentum, spinning low and sweeping his leg. He went down hard, and she was on him, blade at his throat. skyla novea abella danger
Her contact was late. Twenty-three minutes late. That wasn't just a bad sign—it was a eulogy. "Who sent you
Skyla smiled. It was a cold, sharp thing. "You think I need backup?" "Who sent you?" In one motion
"You're lying," she whispered.
