A lull in the fight caused him to look up. Behind Jack was the curtained area, the silk now hanging in ribbons where bullets had shredded it. Inside was an ornate chaise lounge, also riddled with bullets. How many were Jack’s, Emmett didn’t know. A dead guard lay across the chaise lounge, his blood staining the expensive fabric. As Jack reloaded a second time, Emmett watched a lone woman crawl from between the guard’s legs, exiting the safety beneath the chair. She rose amid a rustle of silk skirts—an older woman, face powdered, eyes painted, black hair one long braid that wound around her head like a snake. From within the fur draped around her upper body, she extracted a small jang do, hand fisted around the knife’s ivory handle.
Kim Ji.
“Jack!” Emmett bit at Jack’s arm in his terror—t
