Dead Drop (The Guild #2)(102)
The old woman grinned. “Oh, trust me. I won’t be shy in cashing in this ticket one day. It’s nice to know the infamous assassin Danny DeLuna owes me one.”
My lips parted in shock. The old bat knew who I was all along.
“Come back again tomorrow, dear,” she told me, carrying the plates toward the kitchen in a clear dismissal. “I’ll make you an apple crumble cake. You’ll love it, I promise.”
Shaking my head, I exited the cafe and pulled my phone out. I couldn’t wait to tell Leon, even if I had no idea how to explain the key just yet. I really, badly didn’t want to connect those dots for Leon… or Kai. Shit.
He answered on the second ring, his French endearment for me rolling through the phone with a sexual edge.
“I found it,” I told him, grinning as I swallowed back my dread. We needed this victory, even if it was only a small one. “Layla’s data cache. I’ve got it. Meet me back at the house?”
“Nice work, DeLuna,” he said, sounding impressed. “I’ll leave now and probably beat you back. Have you told meathead?”
I scoffed a laugh. “Couldn’t even if I wanted to, I don’t have his number.”
“Ten points to Marx house,” Leon murmured, and I stopped dead in the middle of the pavement.
“Um, Bunny was that a Hogw—”
“I’ve got to go, beautiful. I’ll see you soon.” He ended the call before I could laugh at him for being a closet wizard wannabe.
Tucking my phone away again, I continued toward my car. I saw now that I’d parked outside the gym that MK had been heading to, an MMA training gym with shiny new signage and buff men working the reception desk.
Lost in my thoughts about dead drops and Layla—or Charlotte—and how in the fuck I would stop Leon killing Kai, I didn’t pay attention to where I was walking until I stepped right in a pile of dog shit.
“Ugh, seriously?” I groaned, stepping off the pavement and trying to wipe my boot on the gutter. The fact that I’d bent over to check how bad the shit smear was, meant that it was the window of the car beside me that shattered with a bullet hole—not my head.
My brain flicked to attack mode without even a conscious thought, and I dove for cover behind another car, a gun in either hand before I even stopped moving. More bullets peppered the car I was hiding behind, and I scanned my surroundings.
So much for being safe in Shadow Grove. Fucking Zed and his overconfidence.
Using the reflections in the storefront across the street, I tried to work out how many shooters were targeting me. Three? Maybe more. Shit, was that a sniper on the roof of that apartment building?
Three, I could probably handle. More might be trouble. Especially pinned down like I was.
I shifted my position, deciding whether I could get a good line of sight to take down any of my attackers, but the moment I moved, more bullets rained down on the car. Crap.
There was nothing to be gained in cowering, though. I doubted these dicks were dumb enough to only pack limited ammo, and chances were they might have backup on the way. They wanted the data cache, I was sure of it. Why else come at me so hard in the middle of the day? Someone must have been watching me. If they were close enough, they could’ve heard me tell Leon that I found it.
Shit. How much of an idiot was I? What a rookie mistake.
Stupid of me to assume no one knew what we were looking for in Shadow Grove. There was no time for wallowing in self-pity now, though. I needed to get the fuck out of here with the data intact. Drawing a deep breath, I spun out of my hiding spot, aiming and firing in the direction I’d identified a couple of my attackers shooting from.
One of my bullets found its mark, with a cry of pain going up, but I quickly dove for cover again as more shots rang out around me. On the plus side, though, I’d just hidden behind my Stingray. If I could get inside without being shot, then I could just—
Fuck. Never mind. A wave of bullets popped the tires and perforated the body of the sleek black car. There went my getaway vehicle.
“Screw it,” I sighed. “Looks like I’m shooting my way out.”
Gritting my teeth, I peered around to search for my attackers’ locations once more. There were more than I realized. Five or six hidden and a team of three all suited up in tactical black moving down the sidewalk toward my hiding place.
“This is going to hurt,” I whispered, then braced myself and popped back up with guns blazing. The three on the sidewalk were my first priority, but my body shots wouldn’t hold them off long. The lack of blood spray said they’d included Kevlar in their outfits.
To my shock, though, I wasn’t the only one firing back. Attacking shooters dropped like flies, and a cherry red Ducati came to a screeching stop directly beside me amidst all the gunfire. Like the rider thought they were bulletproof.
“Get on!” a woman’s voice barked from behind the helmet, and I didn’t need to think twice. There was only one woman in Shadow Grove who really was bulletproof—and drove motorcycles in Louboutin heels—and she owed me one already.
I popped off another shot as one of the dudes on the sidewalk tried to get up, this time capping him right between the eyes and painting the concrete red as I swung my leg over the Ducati.
A quick glance around as my driver revved her engine and took off at top speed told me where my backup had come from. Apparently KJ-Fit was training more than just MMA fighters.