A shot cracked from the far end of the alley and the sound slammed between the brick walls, close enough to make the air vibrate.
Men in black uniforms moved into formation, rifles rising as they sealed the exit.
Whitewater.
"Fuck," Reya muttered.
Across from them, several of the Chosen in civilian clothes flattened themselves against the opposite wall, trying to shrink into brick and shadow.
The shard shifted.
"Ah—" Iyisha inhaled sharply as the glass dragged along her neck while Reya jerked her backward. Her shoulder blades scraped hard against the rough wall.
The alley was short. With both ends blocked, it felt suffocating.
Reya pinned her there, forearm tight across her chest, the shard angled just beneath her jaw.
On the opposite wall, Malcolm stood slightly in front of Marybeth, placing himself between her and the rifles without making it obvious.
"Reya!" the man at the far end called. "Come here."
