Chapter 22
The mob was large—maybe as many as a dozen men—their faces a blur. She didn’t have time to see who they were. She had to move.
“Jara, run!”
The girl stood frozen. Bradamante shoved her sideways into the street. “Jara! Run! Now!”
She could see their faces now. She knew she was in control of her fear.
Bradamante leapt toward the man in front of her and drove her fingers into his eyes—sliced her other hand upward into his groin—jabbed her fist into his throat—disabled him quickly, smoothly, before anyone knew to react.
“Jara! Now!”
From the corner of her eye she saw Jara break from her stupor and run down the darkened street.
The men seemed mesmerized by their leader’s gurgling death. He clutched at his throat, eyes wild. Bradamante didn’t wait. She broke a knee, lacerated
