Tawny yanked her dagger out of the neck of the huge man who had taken one look at her and laughed. He’d thought her nothing more than a little girl in a man’s world, and the sight of the blades strapped to various places on her body seemed to amuse him that much more. “Run home, little girl,” he’d said, his thick German accent making the consonants sharp. “Start running, and I might let you live.”
"Or you could shut the fuck up, and I’ll still kill you anyway," Tawny had replied, drawing one of her daggers and charging him. She was almost too fast for the human eye to track, and she used a fallen chair as leverage to jump up to look him in the eye, the blade going in deep enough that she felt it scrape bone. And he’d fallen, just like all the rest of them.
Wiping the blade off on his shirt, she sheathed the weapon and exited the room, six bodies between the doorway and the hall, all bearing similar stab wounds. She didn’t hear any shots being fired, which meant Saffron had either killed the rest of them, or they’d killed him. And that second option was something she really didn’t want to think about.
She headed back toward where she’d last heard the sound of gunfire, hoping very much to find her companion still alive.