Max fought for each breath. The only color left in his face was the silver of his piercings.

Pity reloaded again. Lord, if you’re listening, please…

“We’re not dying here,” she said aloud. “Not in this damn office!”

“The minute we pop up from behind here, they’re gonna unload on us. Four against two.” Siena snuck a look. “Five. They gave Halcyon a weapon.”

“Four and a half, then,” said Pity. “And Daneko will be shooting left-handed.” She paused. “Not the worst odds.”

“Not the best, either.” Siena wiped at her brow with the back of one hand. “Though none of them are crack shots.”

“With a little luck, we might be able to…”

“Yeah.” Siena checked her clips. “Not like we’ve got much choice.”

“No,” said Max. “Pity, don’t.”

“You need help,” she said. “We can’t wait.”

Sheridan’s voice boomed out like a crack of thunder. “Pity!” he yelled. “It doesn’t have to end like this. Throw out your weapons and come out with your hands up. I promise you won’t be harmed.”

“Horseshit!” Siena answered. “Why don’t you throw down your weapons instead?”

Sheridan ignored her. “How’s Max? You know I want him alive as much as you do, Pity. All you have to do is come out.”

Pity pressed the grips of her guns to her temples. “We can’t trust him,” she said quietly. “Siena…”

“No,” Max pleaded.

“On three,” said Siena. “One…”

Pity gripped her guns tighter. Twelve shots, she thought. Make every one count.

“Two…”

The door to Selene’s suite flew open. No one came through, but from their vantage point, Pity could see Olivia and a cluster of Tin Men a few steps within. Olivia brandished a pair of flash grenades, then pulled the pins and arced them through the doorway toward Sheridan and the bodyguards.

Pity threw herself down beside Max. She squeezed her eyes closed and covered her ears as twin explosions rocked the room. She scrambled up a moment later, ready to fire, only to lurch to one side, disoriented by the shock waves. She steadied herself in time to see the elevator door closing beyond a haze of smoke. Sheridan, Daneko, and the others were inside.

Olivia ran into the office, her rifle raised.

Pity swung around. “Stop where you are!”

Olivia pointed her weapon at the floor. “Don’t! Rifles down, all of you,” she ordered the Tin Men behind her. “Pity, we’re here to help.”

“How did you know we were here? And how do we know you’re not with Sheridan, too?”

“Luster. She said you told her not to trust anyone, but she knew about my time with Siena, so she came to me.”

“Relax, Jones.” Siena holstered her weapon. “You vouched for your girl, and I’m vouching for Olivia.”

“What about them?” Pity indicated the guards behind her. “Santino’s turned some of the Tin Men. Those two over there were with him!”

Olivia’s eyes went wide at Santino’s name, her mouth dropping open in protest. But it closed when she spotted his body. She went over to the dead Tin Men. “These were Santino’s men, all right, brought on by him in the last six months, no more. Everyone with me has been with Casimir for years.” Her voice thickened. “Shit… Santino.”

“He’s dead!” Pity shoved her guns back into her belt. “And we need to get Max to Doc Starr!” She returned to his side. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that his eyes were closed, but they fluttered open and fixed on her. “Hold on,” she said. “Just a little while longer.”

“For you?” Max winced as Siena got an arm under him. “Sure, why not. Selene… is she?”

“Check her!” Pity cried. “She was moving a minute ago. Beau’s alive, too, and…” She froze.

Selene was sitting up, Adora’s body cradled in her lap, her face half buried in the young woman’s hair. Their respective masks of rigid confidence and casual indifference were gone, and for the first time, Pity saw the resemblance that had been hidden beneath them. Adora must have looked more like her father, but it was there nonetheless.

Her eyes met Selene’s.

We do learn so much from our mothers. Selene had said that at their first meeting, hadn’t she?

The mask returned. She held a hand on her neck, and one side of her was soaked with blood from at least two more wounds Pity could see.

“Help her!” Olivia ordered two of the Tin Men.

Pity turned back to Max. Siena and another Tin Man had him standing, but the patch on his stomach was soaked through. He raised his head weakly. Pity went to him, grabbed his face in her hands, and kissed him. Hard. She lingered there, on lips colder than they should be, terrified to break away.

It felt too much like a kiss good-bye.

“Pity,” he whispered when they broke apart. “If Sheridan is working with my—with them…”

“I know.”

“Go. Stop him,” said Max.

“Don’t die on me.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

Pity smiled, unable to keep the tears from leaking out. Then she stepped back and drew her guns again. “I’m going after Sheridan. His forces are still coming. If we can get him, maybe we can make him call off the attack.” She started toward the elevator. “Siena?”

The bounty hunter shook her head. “This ain’t my business anymore—he is. Oh, don’t look so hurt. I’m gonna keep hell from coming for him if I gotta fight it myself. This bounty’s too good to lose.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll go alone!”

“Not alone.” Olivia fell in beside her.

Pity nodded at her. “You keep him safe,” she called back to Siena.

“Serendipity,” Selene croaked.

They paused. Selene had her good arm slung around a Tin Man, who was working to apply dressings to her wounds. Pity waited, but Selene didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Adora lying at her feet was enough.

In the elevator, Olivia checked her rifle as they descended, each floor they passed beeping quietly, like a slow heartbeat. “What was that about Max and a bounty?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Pity busied herself by inspecting the wound on her arm. Blood oozed and it burned like hellfire, but she could manage. “The guards on the front doors are probably Sheridan’s, too.”

“Maybe,” said Olivia, “but you didn’t think I ran to your rescue without raising the alarm, did you? Casimir should be on lockdown by now.”

As they got closer to the Gallery, faint pops echoed.

“Ah, shit,” said Olivia. “I guess I was a little too late.”

They spun to opposite sides of the elevator as the doors opened. Bullets sliced through the air where they had just been, piercing the back wall.

Pity slammed a fist into the control panel to keep the doors open. “I’ll cover you. Stay low!” She leaned out and fired, glimpsing chaos as Olivia scrambled forward and threw herself behind a gaming table.

A pair of Tin Men—who must have been Sheridan’s—had control of the doors at the front of the room and were firing at anyone who approached them. Others, whose side was unclear, were scattered throughout the Gallery, along with prostitutes and patrons and anyone with the misfortune to have gotten caught in the crossfire. Bodies were scattered about. Some were moving; others lay motionless. One man was slumped over a table, a drink in his hand and his head half gone.

Pity took a deep breath. A slurry of scents filled her nostrils: gunpowder, whiskey, blood. Perfume that smelled of lilies. She let it out, then bolted from the elevator. Shots whizzed by her, but the main action was toward the front of the Gallery. What had come at her and Olivia were probably strays, but there was little comfort in that; stray bullets were indiscriminate in their targets.

She tumbled behind an overturned chair a few yards from Olivia.

“What a damn mess!” Olivia aimed her rifle but lowered it before pulling the trigger. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be shooting at!”

“We need to find Sheridan.” Pity went first this time, ducking low and weaving through the luxury playground turned battlefield. She slipped behind a booth and then motioned Olivia forward.

“Pity!”

Flossie crouched a few yards away behind a couch. She had a tiny gun in her hand and one leg stretched before her, its lacy stocking streaked with crimson. Mad rivers of makeup ran down her cheeks. Beside her was a trembling young man whose name Pity didn’t know. Beyond the safety of their barrier lay Kitty, her eyes wide-open and lifeless.

Pity felt a stab of grief in her gut but pushed it away for later. “Flossie—are you okay?”

“No!” Her bosom heaved with every breath. “What the hell is going on? One minute I see Halcyon, Sheridan, and Daneko come out of Selene’s elevator. Not ten seconds later a bunch of Tin Men spill into the Gallery, ordering everyone to stay where they are. Then suddenly everyone is firing at everybody else, like we’re in the middle of a damn war!”

“Did Sheridan make it out?”

“No.” Flossie wiped at her face, leaving a smear of blood. “He got caught in the middle of the room somewhere. That bodyguard of his is down, though—somebody’s shot caught him in the throat.”

“We can still get him,” Pity called to Olivia.

“Better hurry.” Olivia peered over the table she was behind. “The front doors automatically locked when I raised the alarm, but it looks like Sheridan’s forces are trying to get in. The doors’ll hold, but not forever. If I can get outside with some Tin Men and flank them…”

“Go!” she yelled at Olivia. “I’ll take care of Sheridan!”

“On your own?”

“If they break through before you get outside, he’s the only one who can call them off.” Pity stared at Kitty—the sweet, pretty young woman who had tried to snatch holiday kisses from Duchess. The low burn of anger that had been coursing through her exploded suddenly, fury hot and vicious cold at the same time, and tinged with guilt. If she had gone to Selene sooner, none of this would have happened. Adora was dead. Beau, near enough. And Max…

“I’m not letting him get away. Not after all this.” She waved a gun. “Go!”

Olivia eyed the bar. “That’s my way out. There’s a trapdoor into the tap cellar. Cover me!”

Pity fired, one gun after another, as Olivia sprang up and dashed to the bar. She threw herself over it, bullets turning the polished wood into splinters. Pity aimed in the direction the bullets had come from until her cylinders were empty.

“Y’all keep your heads down, Flossie,” she said, reloading. “I need to move.”

Flossie brandished her tiny gun. “Be careful!”

Pity ran for a row of marble statues and then weaved toward a cluster of tables. She searched the Gallery, but she couldn’t see Sheridan.

No sense in playing it coy. “Patrick Sheridan!” she yelled as loud as she could. “You still alive?”

For a long moment there was silence. No answer, but no gunfire, either. It was as if the whole room held its breath.

Then: “I’m here.”

It came from a booth not twenty yards away.

“Tell your men to stop shooting!” She poked one barrel through a gap in the tables, looking for movement.

“Are you going to tell yours to do the same?”

“They’re not mine. They’re Selene’s, remember?” Pity paused. “She’s still alive, by the way! You ought to work on your aim.”

More quiet followed, and she could hear the sounds of pounding on the front doors and distant gunfire. But in the Gallery there was silence.

“You’re lying,” Sheridan said finally.

“Nope.” She looked around and saw people darting toward the exits, taking advantage of the cease-fire. Keep him talking. Give them time. Give Olivia time. “She’s alive and pissed off. I don’t even want to know what’s going to happen once she gets her hands on you.” No response. “You thinking about it, Patrick? Maybe if you give up now she’ll make it quick—”

A shadow fell upon her.

Daneko. His right hand was wrapped in someone’s silk scarf, but his left held a gun, as dark as death itself.

Idiot, she had enough time to think. Distracted by your own distraction. Pity raised her weapons, but it was too late, he had the drop on her and—

BOOM.

Daneko went flying backward in a mist of scarlet.

Pity twisted around and found Siena standing nearby, shotgun smoking. She threw herself down beside Pity as gunfire erupted again.

“Good timing!” Cold terror followed relief. “Max! Is he—”

“Still alive?” Siena snapped. “Yes. And irritatingly insistent that you stay that way, too.”

“You don’t care at all, of course.”

“Don’t get smart. Where’s Liv?”

There was a sudden flurry of activity from the front of the Gallery. A mob of Tin Men flooded in through the front entrance, Olivia at their head. The ones who had held the door all dropped their weapons, save for one, who bolted.

Olivia cut him down before he made it a dozen paces. “We’ve got them surrounded!”

Pity cried out with triumph, a sound that caught in her throat as she spotted Halcyon and Sheridan disappearing into the halls of Casimir.