Chapter 7 · Blood in the Gutter

"Move that knife away from my throat, Kane." My blade pressed under his jaw while his boot pinned my wrist to the tunnel floor.

"You first."

"I'm not the one holding the bigger weapon."

His eyes dropped to the combat knife in my hand, then to the compact shock pistol locked against my ribs. Rainwater and blood ran through the gutter between us. The pistol's charge indicator blinked red against my jacket.

One twitch from him, and it would punch through my side. One twitch from me, and his throat would open.

Fair enough.

"You have three seconds," he said.

"For what?"

"To stop pretending you can win this position."

I smiled with my teeth. "You already tried winning. How'd that go?"

The neural link screamed in both our heads.

Kane's jaw tightened. My fingers spasmed around the knife. The pain wasn't mine, not exactly. It came from his side first, sharp and hot, then slammed through my ribs like somebody had driven a metal rod between them.

He dropped to one knee.

I rolled away and came up against the tunnel wall, dragging the pistol from his hand before he could recover. My shoulder hit concrete.