the door open and was instantly assaulted by the overwhelming, synthetic per

instincts took over. He veered off the path, stepping onto

sguised micro-tactical camera. His thumb pressed the hidden shutter, silen

Holden stopped instantly. His body moved on autopilot, melting

custom haute couture gown, her back to him, her knuckles white

rranged marriage, her high heel kicking out in

tatue with a sharp crack, perfectly maskin

. The hedges thrashed, and the wind caught the high side-slit

pper thigh. Strapped tightly against her pale skin was a

n. Holden's thumb flicked the lighter cap open, a

rittle, fallen oak branch. The sharp crack of the dry wood echoed loudly in the quiet garden. Cordelia's hy

hand slid smoothly down her thigh, her fingers

a normal civilian, he stepped out of the shadows,

cket and the lighter in his hand. The wariness in he

nto the gravel with aggressive, rhythmic vi

as she slammed his back hard against the rough bark

hter from his grip. Her thumb found the hidde

beside Holden's head. The image was a high-definitio

a furious, humiliated red. She drove her knee upwa

ng his stance to deflect the brunt of the impact away from his vital organs. He let the remaining force push him, letting

slammed her knee into a concrete pillar. A

h her stiletto heel. She pointed a trembling finger at his

down at her with dead, emotionless eye

the edge. She ripped the Glock from her holster and

s throat, but Holden's heart rate didn't spike.

looking past the barrel, and spo

ety is s

s darted down to the gun

n's fingers snapped up, locking a

ure. But the heavy thud of combat boots and the shouts o

p in the air, widening his eyes in mock terror. Cordelia sneer