But the Iced giant was the only person I saw. A short wall ran out into the middle of the room, hiding the other half from sight. Pop-pop-pop. Bria and the giants were still exchanging gunfire, and the stench of cordite hung in the air, along with my frosty breath. I crept over to the wall and peered around it. Elliot Slater and his two remaining goons crouched behind an overturned couch about fifteen feet in front of me. Only one of the giants had a gun. Slater and the other man just huddled there, waiting for an opening.
I looked past the couch. Through a tangle of upended tables and chairs, I spotted an oversize stone fireplace. Bria had taken refuge inside the hollow space. I could just see her toes peeking out from behind the stone. She was trapped. Slater had been right. It was only a matter of time before she ran out of ammo. Then the three giants could just charge her and rip her apart with their bare hands. From the smile on Elliot Slater's face and the way he kept flexing his hands, he seemed to be looking forward to that prospect.
A hard smile curved my own lips. Just like I was looking forward to gutting the giant. For Roslyn Phillips, and now for Bria too.
The shooting stopped, and I heard a hollow click. Bria let out a soft curse. She was out of bullets, which meant it was time for me to make my move. A knife in either hand, I stepped around the short wall and let out a low whistle. The giant closest to me turned at the sound, and I threw one of my knives at him. The weapon sank into his left shoulder socket. He growled in pain, and the gun he'd been holding slipped out of his numb fingers. Slater and the other man whirled around in surprise.
"Who the f**k are you?" Slater snapped, his eyes flicking over my blood-spattered clothes and ski mask.
I grinned and grabbed another knife from the small of my back. "Your worst nightmare."
His hazel eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that, bitch."
Slater started toward me, but the giant I'd winged had other ideas. He pulled my silverstone knife out of his shoulder and stepped in front of his boss. Slater stopped and pointed over his shoulder at the fireplace where Bria was still hiding.
"Get the cop!" Slater roared at the third man. "Get Coolidge before she gets away! Now!"
The other giant nodded and turned toward the fireplace. I threw one of my knives at him. The weapon sank into the giant's back, and he grunted. From the way he moved, I knew I hadn't done any major damage, but maybe it would slow him down enough for me to take care of Elliot Slater and the other man coming toward me.
The giant I'd winged crossed over to me in three steps and slashed at me with my own knife. I ducked the wide blow. Even as I lunged down, I slashed his femoral artery on his right leg. Black, arterial blood sprayed in my face, but I ignored the warm, stinging sensation and grabbed a fourth knife out of one of my boots. As I came up, I used that weapon to open up the artery on his left leg. The giant howled again and staggered back. I slammed my boot into one of his knees. The change of tactics surprised him, and he stumbled away and flipped over the lopsided couch. He wasn't dead yet, but he'd bleed out quick, especially if he kept thrashing around.
Meanwhile, Bria had crept out of the fireplace. She grabbed one of the long, metal pokers and held it out in front of her like a sword. I could see blood on her face and clothes, but I couldn't tell how badly she was injured. The giant I'd thrown my weapon at reached around, pulled the knife out of his own back, and advanced on her. I scurried to one side to go help Bria, when a flash of movement caught my eye. I instinctively threw myself to the left. Elliot Slater's ham-size fist whistled past my cheek, and I turned to face the quick giant.
Slater regarded me with his cold hazel eyes. "You know you're going to die for interfering with me."
"Really? Tell that to your two buddies that I've killed-so far," I mocked.
Slater regarded me another moment, then snapped his hand up. I'd been expecting the punch and jerked back, but he still managed a glancing blow to my stomach that forced some of the air from my lungs. It was bad enough that Slater had a giant's inherent strength and toughness. Why did he have to be so f**king quick too? That just wasn't fair. Slater came at me again, and I was too busy dodging his blows to lament the fact that he was so much faster than me.
Another flash of motion caught my eye. On the other side of the room, the front door swung open, and a figure dressed in dark clothes stepped inside. The figure paused a moment, taking in me fighting with Elliot Slater and Bria swinging her fireplace poker at the other giant.
"Hey, buddy," the figure called out. "You want some help with her?"
The giant turned, and Finn shot him in the face four times. Fletcher Lane might not have trained his son to be an assassin like me, but the old man had taught Finn everything he knew about weapons-including how to shoot a gun. Hell, Finn was a better shot than I was. Which is why Finn's first bullet went through the giant's right eye and up into his skull. The giant's head snapped back, and he was already on his way to dead when Finn's next three bullets shattered his face. Bria flinched as the giant's blood, bone, and brain tissue splattered on her face and body. But she didn't scream. For some reason, that made me even prouder of her than the freezer trick.
And then there was one-Elliot Slater.
The giant looked over his shoulder at his dead minions and Finn, who was rapidly advancing on us. I wouldn't have thought him capable of it, but Slater actually did the smart thing.
He ran.
I surged forward, wanting to kill him right here, right now, and take care of Roslyn Phillips's problem. But once again, Elliot Slater was quicker than I was. The giant slammed his fist into my stomach again and shoved me out of the way. Then, he dove headfirst through the nearest window and out into the dark night.
Chapter Eleven
I just lay where I'd fallen, sprawled halfway over a table. Gun at the ready, Finn rushed over to the window and looked outside.
"Slater?" I croaked, still trying to suck down as much oxygen as I could. The giant had connected with his last blow, and it felt like he'd broken a couple of my ribs-again.
Finn drew back and shook his head. "Gone already. He moves fast for a giant."
I nodded. I'd gone fist-to-fist with him, so Slater's speedy getaway didn't surprise me. Even if it was damn inconvenient. But the giant was just going to have to get dead another night. Right now, I had Bria to think of-and the bodies and blood that littered her house like old newspapers.
"So now what?" Finn asked.
"Time to call in the cleanup crew," I said. "Get both of them over here right now."
Although his black ski mask obscured his features, Finn still managed to raise his eyebrows at me. "Both of them? Not just our dark and twisty friend?"