The humid evening air of the city seemed to freeze the moment the lean man in the black suit moved his hand toward his waistband. It was a rhythmic, predatory stillness that Ace Kane recognized instantly—a kinetic language spoken only by those who lived in the shadows of the Underground Market. Ace’s reaction was purely instinctual, a surge of adrenaline overriding thought. He pivoted with a speed that defied his relaxed posture, stepping firmly into the space between the stranger and Suzy.
Suzy, likewise, was not a woman who needed saving. As a "Goddess" of the streets, her own reflexes were razor-sharp. Her hand had already drifted toward the hidden sheath on her upper thigh, her fingers closing around the hilt of her dagger. However, she was a fraction of a second slower than Ace. She
