Chapter 295 The Little Bird Cries First

• Kate did not answer him. Answering was what amateurs did—talking bought the enemy time to read you, and she had no intention of being read.
• Her wrist snapped up, and twin grapple lines shrieked out of her gauntlets, whipping around a crane arm overhead. She yanked herself into the air, swung wide around Charles in a blurring arc, and came down on his blind side with both boots aimed at the base of his skull.
• It was a strike that had shattered the collarbone of a two-hundred-pound enforcer last winter. It was the hardest opening she had.