His body reacted before his mind caught up. The sharp crack of the rifle shot was still reverberating through the air when Cole's shoulder hit the ground, his arm already reaching for Lily, pulling her down with him. The concrete was cold and rough against his cheek, the grit of it pressing into his skin. He could smell the dust, the faint metallic tang of the air, the lingering scent of gunpowder from the shot.
The figure on the rooftop was still there, silhouetted against the pale glow of the city lights. Cole could see the faint glint of the rifle barrel, the way it tracked across the rooftop. He was being hunted. He was being hunted by someone who knew exactly where he would be.
Cole's hand was already moving, reaching for his pistol. The weight of the weapon was a familiar comfort,
