"I put your lunch in your bag. Do you have your homework?"

"Yes," Omari said, picking up his backpack.

I didn't realize taking Omari to school would bring back memories of my own stress when I was going. School always gave me anxiety.

"Ready?" I asked, squeezing Omari's shoulder.

"Ready!" he responded, actually looking excited to be going to school.

That was a marked improvement from yesterday, one I appreciated. I really wanted him to be happy here.

We left the apartment and headed out onto the street. At this hour, everyone was going to either school or work. I usually avoided the massive traffic periods by scheduling myself to be out earlier or later, but I couldn't do that with school starting at eight in the morning.

We hopped onto one of the trolleys, and I had Omari take the last seat while I stood in front of him. He looked around with wide, curious eyes, taking in the humanity packed onto the trolley. He still wasn't used to the close quarters in the city dome, having grown up in the open area outside, up in King Emberich's mountain stronghold. So far, he didn't seem to mind it, which I was thankful for.

It felt like a lot to take in, even for me after I'd spent so much time outside in Ashur's city. Still, there were some things I appreciated. Like how I could basically find anything I wanted at any hour of the day. Or how I usually had a pretty steady stream of clients because the population in here was just so dense.

We hopped off the trolley in front of the school, and I walked Omari to his classroom door.

"Have a good day, all right?" I ordered, crouching to hug him.

"Okay," Omari responded, hugging me back before stepping away with a bright smile. "Bye!"

I watched, bewildered, as he ran into the classroom without a backwards glance. Was it weird that I kind of wanted him to want to stay with me a little more? Shaking my head at myself, I stood up and left the school, trying to avoid eye contact with the parents coming in and out. I really didn't have the time or the energy to get into any kind of small talk situation right now. Not that I ever really wanted to.

I patted my jacket pocket, making sure the small package was still there. I'd taken the time to clean my jacket and my boots yesterday after Omari went to bed, so they were back on now. I felt like myself again.

I hopped onto a trolley, but it only took me part of the way I needed to travel. Where I was going, the trolley system had long since been disabled. They kept getting vandalized and put out of commission so much that the City Council decided to cut service in particular pockets. They figured that the amount of money being sunk into maintaining the trolleys in those area would be better spent elsewhere. It made sense. But it still made it inconvenient to trek out there.

At least I was getting a higher rate for the danger inherent in the area and the extra effort it involved. I was a big believer in hazard pay. I kept a sharp eye out as I crossed over into the area.

The difference started to show almost immediately. One moment I was in a thick crowd with buildings and streets in good repair. In the next, I was walking through a neighborhood with too many liquor stores, boarded-up windows, and a sidewalk that had more cracks than it did smooth parts.

I palmed a knife as I walked.

Just in case.

A skinny guy appeared from a shadowy doorway. He had the drawn look of an addict. He gave me a once-over with empty, bloodshot eyes. I gave him a level look. If you looked vulnerable in a place like this, people would assume you were. I didn't need the trouble.

He turned away and scurried down an alley. No easy prey here. Good to know my stare still worked.

The address I finally stopped in front of looked about the same as the rest. I heard a crying baby and some shouting coming from the apartment complex as I looked up. The peeling paint, broken windows, and hole in the roof gave a good indication of how much the landlord actually cared about the place. And the people inside.

I raised my watch to check the unit number I needed to go to. Third floor. I opened the door, and stepped into the dim interior. Trash littered the corners, and someone was passed out under the stairs. Satisfied nobody was about to jump me, I turned to the stairs and climbed up. The less time I spent here, the better. I reached the third floor without incident. The hall was in the same disrepair as the front entrance, but at least nobody was taking a nap in it.

Unit 36. I pressed record on my watch and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" The female voice was high and irritated, though I didn't take offense. I wouldn't trust a knock in this neighborhood either.

"Delivery," I called out.

A pause.

"Who from?" she asked suspiciously. "I didn't order anything."

"I'm not allowed to say." That really wouldn't allay her suspicions. "I can leave it out here if you'd like," I tried.

As long as I showed that she wouldn't open the door, I'd be paid just the same.

A longer pause this time.

Then the door was cracked open and a pale woman with curly, red hair peered out at me. I took the small package out of my jacket pocket and held it out to her.

"This better not be a trick," she warned, eyeing me and then it.

"Not a trick," I assured her. "Though I don't know what's in the package. I just know I'm supposed to hand it over to you."

She pursed her lips but then reached out and snatched it from me in a move so fast it was almost a blur.

And then slammed the door.

Okay then. Delivered.

I stopped the recording and turned back the way I'd come. My job here was done. I went back down the stairs as carefully as I'd gone up. A lot could happen in the five minutes I was up there. When I reached the first floor, I glanced around. The man who was under the stairs wasn't there anymore.

Unease trickled through me as I registered that and glanced around sharply, but I still didn't see him.

Maybe he'd just decided to leave. Or one of the apartments in the building was actually his.

Neither of those explanations were enough to relax my guard. Staying alert, I headed out to the street, checking in both directions before I started walking back towards where I'd come from. When nothing happened right away, I relaxed only slightly. This wasn't a place to get complacent. Not that anywhere in the city dome really was.

I checked my watch, reviewing the next address I needed to go to. It was a pickup that I needed to deliver within the next couple of hours. It wasn't that far, but it was on a decidedly nicer block, which was good.

I stiffened as I felt an itch between my shoulders. Little hints like that weren't to be ignored. Crossing the street, I used the movement to cast a casual glance back over my shoulder.

I didn't see anybody.

But that didn't necessarily mean nobody was there.

I'd gotten to the point where I trusted my instincts over my eyes. I sped up only slightly, not wanting to trigger whoever it was just yet. In another couple of blocks, I'd be back in much heavier foot traffic where I could lose myself more easily. I slipped my other knife out into my free hand.

One more block.

I heard a footstep behind me, but didn't turn, just sped up my pace a little more.

Half a block more.

I could hear the clash of voices and footsteps on the main street drawing closer. The safety of the crowd wasn't far. I turned left into the small street that connected to the main one I was aiming for. I could see the constant stream of people at the other end, only yards away. I picked up my pace even more. Always better to avoid a confrontation if at all possible.

But then three figures stepped out from either side, blocking the way out. They were dressed in jeans and jackets that had suspicious lumps.

Weapons.

My heartbeat ratcheted up another notch and I stopped abruptly, stepping to the side so my back was to the wall.

I glanced back to the side I'd come from.

Someone stepped into the opening there. It was the man from under the stairs. He didn't look out of it anymore, his blue eyes clear and sharp under his floppy, dark hair.

I did a quick scan of the space as they started closing in on me. Slowly, like they had all the time in the world. No convenient fire escapes. People in these kinds of places were known for deliberately taking them down to help cut down on break-ins.

Getting to the crowd would be ideal. But there were three men that way. And only one the way I'd come. This was no real choice.

Decision made, I turned to the man from under the stairs and went from a standstill to a sprint between one breath and the next. It wasn't a good idea to give them too much time to think or react.

One of the men shouted behind me but I ignored it, focusing on the guy in front of me. He reached into his old, frayed camo jacket and pulled out a baton as he smiled. I needed to distract him.

Focusing as I ran, I didn't take much time to aim before I launched a knife. He cursed and stepped to the side, the knife hitting the wall behind him harmlessly. But it cleared the way for me, which had been the goal.

I pounded past him and turned left, searching for another way out to the street and the people only yards away. The next turn was maybe half a block away.

The footsteps behind me were gaining.

And too close already.

They were taller which meant they had longer strides.

A door opened in front of me and a teenager stepped out with a smoke in hand, an apron tied around his lean waist. His bored expression dissolved, his eyes widening as he saw me rushing towards him.

"Sorry!" I called out as I pushed past directly into a restaurant kitchen.

"Hey!"

"You're not allowed back here!"

"Watch it!"

I sped past the steaming frying pans and the cooks who yelled at me for invading the crowded kitchen. At the other end of the long and narrow place, I could just make out the street through the small window in the door leading to the kitchen and the larger windows by the dining area. Street-front business property in good, high-traffic areas was expensive, so a lot of them were built long and narrow like this.

I pushed through the door, just as I saw the door out from the busy street darken.

Two of the men from the alley pulled it open.

Shit.

I pulled back into the kitchen and crouched down behind the counter as I heard the door into the kitchen slam open, admitting the other two, I was assuming.

They weren't backing off around people. That wasn't a good sign at all. It meant they wanted me, specifically, and didn't really care who was in the way.

Going out in the crowd might just get other people hurt. I needed help.

I brought my watch up to my mouth, using the cover of the cooks shouting to send a message to Jacob. I wasn't very far from his bakery.

"I need a pickup at the Cast Iron . . . " I rattled off the address.

I duck-walked down this side of the counter as I heard the other two from my initial entrance walking down the straight path I'd just taken.

"Get out of my kitchen!" a portly man shouted as I accidentally bumped into his leg, waving his spatula in the air as he glared down at me.

Uh oh.

I shot up and met one of my attackers’ eyes from only a couple of feet away. He looked as startled as I felt.

I recovered faster, snatching one of the hot, heavy pans by the handle and throwing it at him before I dashed back out the way I'd come in.

He screamed behind me.

I winced.

The pan had been empty but hot.

My watch dinged with an incoming call.

"Hello?" I shouted as I heard the door slam open behind me again.

"I'm close," Jacob said in a calm voice. "Still at that address?"

"Close to it. Running east from the back!"

"Perfect."

Only a few more yards to the next alley--

A motorcycle shot out of it only feet away, the sleek design created to weave in and out of narrow streets. The driver had on jeans, boots, and a thick jacket padded to absorb hits if the rider should fall.

Jacob flipped up the visor of his matte black helmet.

"Get on!" he shouted, his eyes on the men behind me.

I didn't waste any time. Running the last few feet, I threw my leg over the bike and wrapped my arms around his hard waist.

We were shooting away at fifty miles an hour a split second later. That acceleration was-- I think my stomach was still back there.

I turned around, squinting to see the two men coming to a stop as they watched me, the other two just bursting out of the restaurant. They didn't look happy.

I turned back around and tucked my head against Jacob's shoulder, closing my eyes because I didn't have the protection of a helmet to shield them.

That was close.

Really close.

What the hell was going on?