Nita jerked backwards, a fast, sudden move using all her strength. Bolts popped from the ground as the chair was ripped from its mooring.
Nita and chair shot back, into her attacker. For a split second when she hit, the pressure from the garrote released, and her hands snapped up and grabbed it, ripping it out of her assailant’s hands, even as the wire sliced deep into her fingers.
Nita and her attacker tumbled to the ground, and her slippery fingers peeled the metal from the tender flesh of her throat. She immediately began repairing the damage to her body, sealing blood vessels and patching skin back together, while her too red handprints left marks on the floor.
A man in a long beige trench coat kicked the chair off of himself, his black army boots clanging against the metal. Nita bared her bloody teeth, pulled herself onto her knees, and grabbed the chair. She swung it at his legs as he attempted to rise. It hit with a crunch, and the man fell back to the ground with an oomph as the air left his lungs.
Then Kovit appeared from behind her attacker, switchblade in hand. Before Nita could blink, he’d pinned the man with a knee and pressed a knife against his throat.
Nita knelt on the floor, gasping for breath, and realized the entire interaction had only taken seconds. She swallowed, throat dry, and heaved a shaky breath.
Voices echoed elsewhere on the platform, and Kovit’s eyes flicked to the chair. Nita rose and quietly put it back. She scuffed at the bloody handprints on the gray floor with her sneaker, but they weren’t going anywhere. She looked up at Kovit as the voices got louder and indicated a pillar at the end of the platform with a jerk of her head.
The man in the trench coat resisted when Kovit tried to pull him toward the isolated corner. Kovit casually slid his knife under the skin of the man’s cheek, the blade sliding in flat and thin, so she could see the shape of it bulging out from under the skin. He pressed his other hand against the man’s throat to prevent his scream.
“Resist, and I’ll skin your face,” Kovit hissed. His body shivered slightly as the man’s pain flowed through him, ecstasy making his eyes half lidded and a twisted smile pulling the corner of his lips. But his hand stayed steady on the knife. Controlled.
The man’s eyes bulged, tears collecting at the corners, his mouth open and gurgling as he tried to scream but couldn’t. He winced at every expression that crossed his face, the muscles of each gasp and gurgle pulling at the skin being cut by the knife.
Kovit pressed the knife deeper, and the man tried again to make a sound against the pressure of Kovit’s hand on his throat, but nothing came out. Finally, he went limp as Kovit and Nita guided him behind the pillar and out of view.
Kovit shoved the man against the far side of the pillar, pinning his arms between their bodies with one arm, while the other one kept the knife in the man’s face. The man was in his late twenties, white, with blue eyes, a cleft chin, and a quivering lip. She didn’t recognize him.
Nita wiped her bloody hands on her shirt. “Who are you?”
The man’s eyes flicked to her, then he swallowed and looked to Kovit. Kovit dug the blade in and whispered, “Answer her.”
“Allen. Allen Burns.”
He gasped as he spoke, the movement of his mouth tugging against Kovit’s knife, and blood trickled down the side of his face, coating it red.
Kovit looked to Nita, and she shrugged.
“Why did you attack me?”
He hesitated, and Kovit’s knife dug into his face. Allen whimpered, snuffling and snotting as the tears choked him. Kovit shuddered, a soft moan escaping his lips.
Allen tried to turn his face away, but it only made the knife cut deeper, and he stopped, voice nothing more than a whimper. “The money. Please.”
“What money?” Nita pressed.
“I saw the video of you on the internet.” His watery eyes flicked down to the dried blood on her now-healed neck. “People will pay a lot of money for you.”
Nita frowned. So this was some random attack? But what were the chances?
Something was missing here.
Kovit sensed it too. He tilted his head to the side. “Where are you from?”
“Buffalo.”
“Buffalo. New York.” Kovit made a face and said in distaste, “You’re one of that bounty hunter gang. The Pompasaurus?”
“The Pomadors.” His voice was mildly strangled with offense, and Nita rolled her eyes. Why did people always pick such stupid names for their groups?
“That.” Kovit’s eyes narrowed. “And why were you in Toronto?”
Allen stared at them, brows furrowed, lip quivering. “I told you. She’s all over the internet.”
A chill slid down Nita’s spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. “Are you saying you came specifically to Toronto to hunt me?”
“Well, yeah.” He swallowed again, and the fine dusting of stubble across his face scraped against Kovit’s knife.
Nita frowned. “How did you know where I was?”
He hesitated, and Kovit slid the knife in deeper. Allen tried to scream, but Kovit cut off his airways so it turned into a desperate choke.
“Answer her,” Kovit hissed.
“I bought the information,” he gasped, once Kovit had eased up on his airways. “Online.”
“And it included that I would be on this subway at this specific time?” Nita’s voice was dry.
Allen hesitated, and Nita frowned. Then her eyes widened.
She yanked her phone out of her pocket. It was warm. Too warm.
She stared at it. She’d been so careful. So certain.
Idiot.
She should have copied the information and ditched the phone. Let her mother toss it out the window.
She yanked the back of the phone off and popped the battery out. She pocketed each part of the phone separately.
“We need to go,” Nita murmured to Kovit. “We need to go now, before more people show up.”
Kovit nodded, then turned to the man. “Did you bring any friends today?”
“I thought one person would be plenty to take on a little girl.” Allen’s eyes narrowed. “But my associates will learn from my mistake. They’ll come in force next time.”
Great. Just what Nita needed. Black market hunters out for both money and vengeance.
Allen’s eyes flicked to Kovit. “Though I would have thought twice about coming alone if I’d known you’d hired a zannie for protection.”
Kovit’s jaw clenched. “What makes you think she hired me?”
Allen stared at him. “Zannies only have employers and victims.”
Kovit’s eyes narrowed, fingers tightening on his knife.
“He’s my friend.” Nita’s voice was quiet.
Allen gave her a pitying look. “Zannies don’t have friends, they’re not capable. You’re a fool if you think differently.”
Nita caught the look of hurt that crossed Kovit’s face before it transformed into rage.
“No, you’re the fool.” Nita whispered, as Kovit’s knife dug in and peeled the skin of his cheek off in one neat slice. The piece of flesh hung on the blade a moment before Kovit flicked it off.
Allen opened his mouth to scream, but before he’d filled his lungs, Kovit leaned forward and shoved his switchblade in the back of his neck.