Blood and Bone

The news report droned on, a grim prelude to the day's events. Mayor Katerina Frazier, dead with razors in her esophagus.

Delphinium Tesla dared a glance backward, the familiar sting of paranoia prickling her skin. He was still there, the strange man. Far back, yes, but undeniably following. A fresh wave of frenzied curses surged through her mind, mirroring the sticky, unseen red on her hands hidden within her sleeves.

The transaction had been simple: illegal weaponry. But the dealer, his eyes darting, his voice low, had cornered her. In a world where many knew her name and wanted her gone, it was a risk she couldn't take. Killing him had been messy, fueled by terror rather than her old, cold determination. The body, harder still to conceal in the sterile wealth of Laguna. Yet, desperation, honed by years of survival, guided her.

Catching sight of the second man tailing her as she slipped away, her terror spiked again, then momentarily subsided. Just a pedestrian, she told herself. Not everyone is out to get you.

But no normal pedestrian followed a young woman for seven blocks straight. No, he knew. He wanted. He would take.

Three blocks to refuge. Three blocks to the relative safety of her grandmother's cavernous house, a place she never enjoyed but now yearned for. Empty-handed after the dealer's death, save for the tiny, rusted switchblade hidden where her grandmother would never look. Not defiance, but necessity. Without backup, her own mind would tear her apart.

The man's footfalls were real this time, barely audible, a confirmation that this wasn't another phantom from her imagination.