It was like watching an action movie, but in slow motion. My ears were ringing and I couldn’t focus on anything. I pushed forward, trying to get out. After stepping on the man Owen had incapacitated, I was almost out the door when Owen’s voice ripped through the air.

“Ava!” There was so much anguish in his voice I turned in midstep, just in time to see the gun pointed at my head. My body froze, every muscle, every cell, every atom just stopped.

Something large and heavy slammed against me, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I fell face first on the cement stairs and for a moment wonder if I’d been shot, but the person on my back rolled off to the side. Slick fingers wrapped around mine, urging me to stand, and I looked up into Owen’s face. Once I was on my feet, he let go of me and pushed me toward the street.

Pulling one of his guns from his holster, he fired behind us. The sound was so loud it felt like a bomb going off in my head. Or maybe I had a concussion. I wasn’t really thinking straight. I reached to rub the sore spot on my head where I’d hit the table, and my hand came away red. Was that my blood, or someone else’s? But there was no time to think about it as another volley of gunshots rang out.

People were watching from behind cars and trash cans, afraid to move. A black car skidded around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front of us.

“Bloody hell.” Mavis rolled down her window and fired two quick shots past us. “Get in.”

I grabbed the door handle with still-bloody fingers, and the sight made me dizzy. I turned around in a panic, looking for Owen, but he was right behind me.

“Get in, Ava.” His eyes were calm, despite the red that stained his shirt.

Hurrying, I opened the door and threw myself across the bench seat, leaving room for Owen. He fired two shots before ducking into the seat. He reached for the door handle and winced, but made no sound. He almost didn’t get the door shut, but luckily when Mavis hit the gas, the door swung backward and latched.

“Oh my God.” I ran my hand over his arm but he shooed me away. “Stop that! You’ve been shot!”

“I noticed.” A little of his temper peeked through his calm façade.

“Let me look!” I reached for his shirt but he gave me a stern look.

“I’m fine. Right now we just need to get out of here.”

“I should kill you for going in there without me.” Mavis’s cool voice floated from the front of the car. “And if you lost my lead, I will kill you.”

“You wouldn’t have saved us if you were going to do that.” Owen shook his head. “And you’re looking for a Maria. She’s local.”

“Right then. Try to not bleed all over the seat.” Mavis responded calmly as if she wasn’t dodging cars and pedestrians, her anger dissipating.

“Where are you taking us?” I asked as I opened Owen’s bag and pulled out my sweater.

“A safe place.”

“Right. I don’t believe in those anymore.” I ducked lower in the seat and noticed Owen’s eyes snap shut in pain when the car hit a large pot hole. “So where is it?”

“It’s fine, Ava.” He turned to look out the window.

“No one is following us,” Mavis told him. I could see her bright eyes watching us in the rear view mirror.

“Don’t go straight to your place.”

“Thank you, Owen, but I’ve done this once or twice on my own.” I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “If you want to drive next time, don’t go into the bad guy’s house without back up, and don’t get shot along the way.”

I pulled at his sweater, trying to find the wound. I knew he was feeling bad if he wasn’t complaining any more. When I found the source of the blood, my stomach rolled. It took a minute before I could actually make sense of what I was seeing. I leaned close to try and see if there was any bullet, but couldn’t see anything.

“It’s a flesh wound.” I looked up into Owen’s calm eyes.

“How can you know?” I looked back at the wound.

“Would have made a bigger hole otherwise.” He took a deep breath.

I made him lean forward so I could wrap the sweater around his shoulder to try and slow the bleeding. As I held my hands pressed against the injury an ugly thought began to fill my mind. He had been shot from behind and in the top of his shoulder. As if he had been running.

Running to tackle someone.

“That bullet was meant for me.”

BEING SHOT WAS never fun. I’d been shot once before, in the leg. That hadn’t been fun either. The weird part was that it had happened before my current occupation. There was a reason becoming an assassin had seemed like a logical job choice. My childhood hadn’t been a picnic.

However, having Ava look at me with those big eyes while her tiny hands pressed against me almost made it worthwhile. Almost. Bruises were already developing along her cheekbone and above her left eye. They hurt me more than the damn gun shot.

“Marcus said a woman is in charged. Her name is Maria.” I frowned as I went over the details of my meeting with her. “She’s the one that hired me to kill Song.”

“Why did you take his case?” Mavis asked. She knew I was picky when it came to hits.

“He was a sex slave trader.”

She didn’t respond and I knew from the way her shoulders stiffened she was thinking about her friend.

“It looks like she’s into a lot of different things.”