Page 4 of Charged By the Razorbacks

Because she didn’t get to be done. Not until—her hand brushed her pocket. She needed to get the drive to someone who could counter what had been done.

That mattered more than she did.

Her jaw clenched.

“Get out,” she told herself.

But even as she said it—she knew. This wasn’t going to be clean, and it sure as shit wasn’t going to be easy. She shifted again, taking down another hybrid, breath hitching slightly as the pain in her shoulder flared sharper this time.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “This is where it gets interesting.”

Because this—this was their plan. Wear her down to a point where she could be contained.

Her lips curved.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Still not happening.”

She drove her blade home again—and then—something hit. Not physical. Something deep within her, a pull that was as sharp as it was unexpected.

Her breath caught for half a second as it sliced through the fight, cutting clean through her focus in a way nothing else had managed to. Her head snapped slightly, awareness shifting even as her body kept moving—images of two men, dropping to their knees.

...Holy fuck that packed a punch...

...Yes. Yes ... that’s her...

“No,” she muttered.

Because she knew what that felt like. Or at least—what it might mean.

“Not now.”

Not when she needed every ounce of strength and wit she had to get out of this. Her grip tightened on her weapon.

Focus snapped back.

Fight first.

Deal with whatever the hell that was—later. If she got a later.

She stepped into the next attack— and kept going.

****

Denver was a dead end. Or it certainly fucking felt like it. Aleksy and him had been tracking her scent, which, for E.S.E like them, should have been so damn easy. But her scent was elusive, doubled back on itself, disappeared completely in midair, and they seemed to be just walking randomly through this whole city, struggling to find her.

Jarek stood on the edge of the alley, jaw tight, gaze tracking a trail that didn’t make sense anymore.

It vanished this time. Not gradually. Not messy. Not in a convoluted mess of other scents, it just disappeared.

Just—gone.

He exhaled hard through his nose, dragging a hand down the back of his neck as he turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning brick, shadow, fire escape, street beyond.

Nothing.

“She had to have doubled back,” he muttered.

Aleksy didn’t argue. Didn’t agree. Didn’t have a freaking clue, because neither did he.