The Last Assassin Read Free Page B

to let them go by. I steered us to the left so I would have the inside position.
    They saw us and stopped shouting. Not a good sign. Then they slowed. That was worse. And then one of them peeled off and started crowding our side of the street, with the others drifting along with him. That was unwelcome indeed.
    I eased out the Benchmade and held it hidden against my open palm with my thumb. I didn't want anyone to know there was a knife in play until I decided to formally introduce them to it.
    I had hoped simply to pass them, maybe absorbing a predictable shoulder check en route. But they had fanned out widely enough so that going past wasn't an option. Well, I could go through just as easily. I envisioned dropping the nearest one with
osoto-gari,
a basic but powerful judo throw, which I expected would provide an attitude adjustment sufficient for the remaining three. And if Delilah had fallen in behind me, I would have done just that. But she was close beside me, and therefore in my way. I felt her slowing, and I had to slow, too.
    A paranoid notion tried to grip me: Delilah could have set this up. But I knew instantly it wasn't that. The four of them were too young, for one thing. Their vibe was too hot, too aggressive. For professionals, violence is a job. For these guys, it felt like an opportunity.
    Besides, Delilah hadn't been leading me as we walked. I would have noted that, as I had noted its absence.
    We all stopped and faced one another.
Here we go,
I thought.
    'Lovely evening, isn't it, ladies?' said the one who had originally started drifting onto our side of the street. He was looking at me, smirking.
    'You must be the leader,' I responded, my voice low and calm.
    'What's that?' he said, his brow furrowing.
    'You moved first, and your friends followed you. And now you're talking first. I figure that means you're the leader. Am I wrong?' I glanced behind us just to ensure no one was closing in from the other direction — all clear — then back at the other three. 'Is it one of you? Come on, who is it?'
    The interview wasn't going the way they had hoped. I wasn't cringing. I wasn't blustering. If the idiots had any sense, they would have realized that now I was interviewing them.
    'Oh, it's me, all right,' the first one said, trying to recover some initiative.
    I nodded as though impressed. 'That's brave of you to say.'
    'Why?'
    I smiled at him. The smile was in no way pleasant.
    'Because now I know to kill you first,' I said.
    He glanced at his friends as though reassuring himself of their continued presence, then back at me. I felt him starting to reconsider.
    But one of his friends was too stupid or drunk or both to notice the position they were in. 'He's calling you a wanker, man. You going to take that?'
    Fuck.
'I'm not calling anyone a wanker,' I said, my voice still calm and steady. 'I'm just saying neither of us wants to spoil the other's evening. La Ribera's like an outdoor party right now. Isn't that where you're going?'
    The last question was calculated: not a command, just a reminder, a mere suggestion that could be taken with no loss of face. And I could tell from the guy's eyes that he wanted to take it. Good.
    He glanced at his friends again. Unfortunately, they didn't give him what he was hoping for. He looked back at me, and I saw he had decided. Decided wrongly.
    He started to move in, his arm coming up, probably for a finger jab to my chest or some other classic and stupid next- step- on- the- road- to- violence. He didn't know that I don't believe in steps. I like to get where I'm going by the shortest route possible.
    But before I could move in and drop him, Delilah stepped between us. She had been so quiet, and the guy had been so focused on me, that it took him a moment to adjust. He paused and started to say something. But he never had a chance to get it out.
    Delilah snapped a rising front kick directly into his balls. He made a half-grunting, half-retching sound and doubled over. Delilah