Inga’s tavern went stone-silent as Shandy called out Spiro’s challenge. Talina sat through the whole spiel, back rigid, her hand clenching her mug. She couldn’t help but note Kalico’s audible gasp where the woman sat beside her.
Talina took a deep breath, sighed, and climbed down from her chair.
The Supervisor reached out, laying a hand on Talina’s arm. “You don’t want to do this. This is a setup, and you know it.”
Every eye in the tavern was on her as Talina carefully lifted Kalico’s hand off of her forearm. “The woman’s a walking menace, Kalico. Since the day Cap left the Corps she’s been on a downward spiral. She could have stopped the riot that night outside the shuttle field fence. But she didn’t, and people died. Since that day she shot up the hospital, she’s been out of control. She’s got people gunning for her, and she’s killing people. Damn it, she lost Mundo for us. Maybe forever. Killed Rocket. Ruined Kylee. And for that, if nothing else, I owe her.”
“Talina,” Kalico’s voice dropped, firm, deadly serious. “She’s combat trained. The reason she’s so fast? It’s the implants.”
Talina smiled, a deadly calm inside. Her quetzal was slipping around in her guts like an eel. “Kalico, I appreciate that but—”
“Don’t go.” A faint smile bent the Supervisor’s lips. “I . . . I guess I’d miss you.”
Talina chuckled, touched. “Doesn’t mean it has to end in a shooting. Let me see if I can talk her out of this madness.”
She stood, hitched her belt around so the butt of her pistol rested at the perfect angle. She was aware of the people, maybe fifty of them, scattered around the tables. These were her people. They understood.
Shandy was standing with his hands out defensively, saying, “I was only paid to deliver the message. Don’t take it out on me.”
Talina considered. “Spiro pay you?”
“Chavez did.”
“Hope you got it in advance.” To Inga she called, “Keep my beer cold. I’ll be back to finish it.”
“See you then, Tal.” Inga called with forced joviality. “And Tal, you be careful with that woman. She’s a damn quetzal if I ever saw one.”
“Not even close. Quetzals have saving graces,” Talina whispered as she strode for the aisle. Every head in the place turned to follow her. And as she trotted up the steps, she could hear the chairs and benches being pushed back, the rustle of feet as the room began to empty behind her.
Well, hell, so what if she had an audience? As she stepped out into the late-afternoon sun, she began flexing her fingers, loosening them up.
Her quetzal hissed and chattered inside, sending an electric pulse through Talina’s muscles.
“You ready for this, you piece of shit? Normally that bitch shoots for the heart, but if she’s a little low, she’s going to blow a hole right through you.”
“Scared.”
“Damn right I’m scared. What you’ve got to understand is that she’s going to kill me. Somehow, I’ve got to get her, too. She’s like a poison. Felicity. Shan. Rocket. Kylee. Rebecca. Shantaya. They’ll just be the beginning.”
“Rocket?”
“Might have been a bridge between people and quetzals. Spiro needs to die just for fucking that up. Plus, I really liked the little twerp. Broke my heart when he died.”
Just remembering the pain she’d felt as Rocket died in her arms bucked her up with a wooden resolve. Yeah, one way or another, Spiro died today.
She was passing the foundry now, aware that the crowd was lining out behind her. Damn it, if it came to shooting, didn’t the fools know they could be shot down just as quick?
She could see the front of The Jewel, watched as Spiro stepped out into the sunlight. Even across the distance, the woman had a weird smile on her lips, as if idiotically amused.
“Hey,” Talina turned. “You people get out of the way. I don’t want anyone getting hurt if this goes sour.”
“We got your back, Tal,” Terry Mishka called where he stumped along on his healing leg.
“Fine. Just stay the hell under cover while you’ve got it. Shots can go wild.”
To her slight relief, people were slipping to the sides of the street, as if that would really keep them safe.
“What kind of fools want to see a shooting?”
Even better, how the hell was she going to take Spiro out? The woman was supposed to be faster than a spark.
Talina, you’re not up to this.
She took a deep breath, her heart beginning to hammer. So this was what it all came down to? A sunny afternoon in the street? All the dangerous hunts, the times she’d faced down mobs on Clemenceau’s orders. The close calls in the bush. Even the time she’d faced the mobbers, stared into one of the deadly creature’s eyes. Or the times she fought quetzals. She could have died at any instant. Could have been shot in the back, could have been looking the other way when a quetzal leaped.
“It’s been a hell of a life,” she decided. “But no one lives forever.”
Just got to take Spiro with me.
She flexed and rolled her shoulders, frantic to loosen the tension. One thing was sure: the adrenaline was pumping.
Word is she wants her opponents to fire first.
That was the key. Center punch Spiro right off. Don’t go fast. A rushed shot was a missed shot.
Even if I’m heart-shot, there’s a couple of seconds to aim, fire, and fire again.
“That’s all that matters. She can’t walk away.”
And what the hell, Cap was dead. Trish had turned against her. She had a quetzal in her guts. It wasn’t like she had anything outstanding to live for.
With that realization, a humorless chuckle rose to her lips. The fear seemed to have hit its high, and now ebbed.
Talina locked eyes with Spiro, watched the woman’s gaze burn a glistening black in her blocky face.
Talina kept walking. Closing. Stopped right in front of the woman, not more than two paces away. Close enough she couldn’t miss.
“How’s this for face-to-face?”
Spiro’s flaccid smile went wider. “You’re a lying piece of shit, Perez. What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you think, you miserable . . .”
Spiro’s hand blurred.
One instant Talina was talking. The next she was staring into the black muzzle of Spiro’s pistol. It hovered no more than six inches from Talina’s forehead.
“Thought I’d let you shoot first? Different story now, isn’t it?” Spiro asked. “I wanted you to feel it. What it’s like when a back-shooter puts a gun to your head. What it’s like when a sneaking cunt like you lights up a hot spot on a person’s cheek and targets a heat-seeking round. Enjoying the feeling? Getting that runny sensation down in your guts?” The smile went oily. “Nice, isn’t it?”
Talina froze, eyes fixed on the black emptiness inside the muzzle of Spiro’s pistol.
“There’s one difference,” Spiro told her pleasantly. “I shoot people from the front. And I’m . . .”
“Now!”
The quetzal did it. Instantaneously.
As Tal ducked, Spiro’s pistol blasted at the top of her head.
The move wasn’t conscious. Wasn’t even hers. She had no memory of the decision—let alone the action. One instant her hand was gripping the holstered pistol’s butt. The next it was level and firing into Spiro’s chest.
Shot after shot. Like the crashing of hammers on planks.
And then it was over: Spiro falling away, collapsing as if her spine had been cut. The woman’s pistol came slashing down before Talina’s nose as the arm that held it went limp.
Spiro toppled backward, her eyes oddly bugged, mouth open. As if in slow motion, the woman’s body slammed into the hard-packed gravel, the impact rolling through her chest, arms, and legs. Spiro’s head hit hard, bounced, causing her cheeks to jump and her eyelids to flicker.
Talina blinked, still crouched low. Aware that her eyes burned. The world had vanished in a wailing, high-pitched ringing. Her pistol remained at the ready, gripped for a follow-up shot.
Her forehead felt funny and her scalp was on fire.
Talina fought for air. Struggled. But filling her lungs seemed impossible.
All around her, people were staring around, pointing off across the street.
At what?
Then Trish was there. Carefully she reached out, laid her hand on Talina’s, and guided the pistol back into its holster. Then Trish’s reassuring grip pulled Talina’s arm up over the young woman’s shoulder, supporting her.
All the while, Trish’s mouth was working soundlessly. Damn that horrible ringing. It drowned the whole world.
“Can’t hear!” Talina bellowed.
Trish stopped short, peered into her eyes, then leaned close to shout through the ringing. “You’re deaf from the gunshot! It’ll pass!”
People were running, still pointing as they called to each other, heading off toward Sheyela’s repair shop. Others were crowding around, staring in awe at Spiro’s bleeding body.
“What’s that all about?” Talina bellowed, pointing toward Sheyela’s.
Trish leaned close. Shouted through the ringing. “Talbot just shot Chavez! The fucker was going to shoot you for shooting Spiro!”
“Talbot?”
“Chavez!”
“I don’t—”
“Shut up, Talina! I’ve got to get you to Raya.”
Which was when the first of the blood began to drip down her forehead and onto her nose.
And to her surprise, it was Kalico—immaculate in her black suit—who came to take her other arm. And together the three of them went plodding up the street, heedless of the people clapping and cheering.
Not that Talina could have heard them through the ringing.