Fadel

I watched keenly; my eyes sharp against the darkness. For the first few minutes, it seemed like nothing was going to happen. The shots had stopped ringing, and the city had settled back into an eerie silence. Not even the distant wail of sirens cut through the air. That was odd. Either the shooters had been law enforcement, or they'd been taken out before they could call for backup.

I exhaled slowly, my fingers twitching at my side. I needed to go back down, get a read on the situation, but Kant was here too. That complicated things. I couldn't afford to have him trailing me-especially not now. If anything happened to him...

I was a killer. A gun for hire. But that didn't mean I let innocent people die.

This guy pisses me off, but not enough for me to watch him die. If he had to go, it had to be by my hands.

A smirk tugged at my lips as the thought flickered across my mind. Twisted, maybe. But true.

Kant shifted beside me, his breath steady, eyes locked on the streets below. He was waiting, just like I was.

Then, movement.

I stiffened, my instincts kicking in before my mind could fully register what I was seeing. Shadows eased into the street below, slipping through the dim glow of the streetlamps like wraiths. Silent. Calculated. They weren't ordinary passersby. They were looking for something-or someone.

Maybe us.

Kant must have noticed too because his breath hitched ever so slightly. I didn't look at him, keeping my gaze trained on the figures below. There were three, maybe four, moving in a staggered formation. Trained. Tactical. They weren't random thugs.

I clenched my jaw. This wasn't good.

One of them paused near a lamppost, tilting his head as if listening for something. Then, slowly, he turned his head upward.

Right at us.

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed Kant's collar and yanked him down lower against the rooftop surface, pressing my back against the ledge. My pulse was steady, but my grip on my knife tightened.

"They know we're here," Kant murmured.

No shit.

I forced a slow breath through my nose, my mind already running through options. We could try to slip away before they made a move. But if they were here for us, there was no way they hadn't planned for that possibility.

"They don't know how many of us are up here," I whispered. "That's our advantage."

Kant turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable in the shadows. "And what's your plan?"

I let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Same as always."

His brows furrowed.

I pulled my gun from its holster, feeling the familiar weight settle into my palm.

"Shoot first. Ask later."

Kant tensed beside me, but he didn't protest. He knew better than to argue when the odds were stacked like this. Down below, the figures were still scanning the rooftops, their movements slow, deliberate. They weren't rushing this. They were confident. That only made me more certain-these weren't amateurs.

One of them muttered something into a device, probably a comm. Reinforcements. A signal? Either way, we were running out of time.

I shifted my weight slightly, peering over the edge just enough to get a clearer look. The one who had spotted us was still staring, his body angled as if waiting for confirmation. His hand drifted toward his hip-gun? Knife? Didn't matter. I wasn't about to give him the chance.

I exhaled slowly, steadied my aim, and pulled the trigger.

The suppressed shot cracked through the air, almost swallowed by the city's hum. The man jerked back, crumpling soundlessly onto the pavement.

The others moved instantly. One dived for cover behind a parked car, another disappeared into the shadows, and the third spun toward us, his weapon raised.

I pulled Kant down again just as a shot whizzed past, clipping the rooftop ledge.

"Well, so much for staying quiet," Kant muttered.

I smirked, my pulse kicking up with the thrill of the fight. "Didn't think it'd last long anyway."

Another shot rang out, ricocheting off the metal vent behind us. They were fast, but I was faster.

I leaned out just enough to fire another shot, forcing the one behind the car to stay put. We needed an exit, and fast. I wasn't worried about me-I could fight my way through this if I had to-but Kant was a different story. He could hold his own, but this wasn't his kind of battlefield.

More movement. More shadows shifting in the distance. Reinforcements.

Shit.

Kant's fingers closed around my arm. "We need to move."

For once, I agreed with him.

The sharp scent of gunpowder filled the air as another round of bullets zipped past, chipping at the rooftop ledge. We had seconds-maybe less-before they boxed us in.

I scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for an escape. A fire escape ladder dangled just a few feet below us, rusted but sturdy enough to hold our weight. It wasn't ideal, but it was our best shot.

"There." I jerked my chin toward it. "We drop down, cut through the alley."

Kant nodded, already moving, but just as he reached the edge, a figure burst out from the shadows. A shooter-perched on the rooftop across from us.

Damn it.

I barely had time to react. The glint of his scope caught the dim city lights, and I knew exactly where his shot was going. Me.

Then, everything happened at once.

Kant shoved me. Hard.

I stumbled sideways, my balance tilting dangerously close to the rooftop edge. A second later, the shot rang out-sharp, clean. Not at me.

At Kant.

His body jerked from the impact, his expression caught between shock and something else-resignation, maybe. He staggered, his fingers grasping at nothing, before his knees buckled.

"No," I snarled, lunging forward to catch him before he hit the ground.

Blood. A dark stain spreading across his side, pooling beneath my hands as I pressed down instinctively. He let out a shaky breath, his face pale but twisted into a smirk.

"Guess I beat you to it," he muttered weakly.

I gritted my teeth, scanning the rooftops. The sniper was repositioning. More shadows were closing in. We had no time, but I wasn't leaving him here.

"Shut up," I growled, hooking an arm under his shoulder. "We're getting out of this."

His breath hitched in pain, but he didn't argue. I hauled him up, ignoring the warm, sticky blood seeping through my fingers.

Bullets ripped through the night as I dragged Kant toward the fire escape. I didn't look back. There was no room for hesitation now.

We were getting out. Or we were going down together.