Page 36 of Blood Code

But whoever it was, I was smaller and far more agile, and I intended to use that to my advantage.

I dodged right, leaving the trail and plunging into the thicker woods, where the terrain would favor me. Low branches and narrow spaces between trees and rocks offered passages too tight for him to follow.

His size gave him the advantage in a straight sprint. Out here, it worked against him.

My fitted tactical jacket snagged on a branch, jerking me backward and slamming me against the trunk. I rubbed the arm that had taken the brunt of the impact. Fuck.

A quick pat of my sports bra confirmed the flag was still tucked inside. Good.

I kept running.

His footfalls faded until I could barely hear them. If not for the snap of a branch, I would have thought I’d escaped him. I slipped between the tightly packed trees and dodged left.

A couple more maneuvers, and I’d be rid of him. The terrain grew steeper and steeper. I’d chosen the path of greatest resistance to put any boy at a disadvantage.

A few more checks over my shoulder revealed nothing—no sight or sound of my pursuer, or even an animal moving through the forest.

The trees finally gave way to what I thought was a dirt-covered clearing. It wasn’t.

There was no more forest. No more terrain at all.

I burst through the treeline and dropped to my ass, digging my heels into the dirt to stop myself from going over a cliff and falling into the lake below.

My feet skidded to a stop right at the cliff’s edge.

Slowly, I rolled onto my knees, knelt, and peered over the edge. The water crashed against the rock below. Maybe a fifty-foot drop. Steep enough that I didn’t even want to try jumping.

I got to my feet and turned, searching for another escape route, but my pursuer stood between me and the forest. I stumbled back, nearly going over the edge as the loose gravel shifted beneath my boots.

He leaned against a tree, his head cocked like a bird of prey eyeing its next meal. A black tactical half mask concealed his face, leaving only his lips and defined jawline exposed.

Intimidating was not the right word for this man.

Yes… a man. He was not one of my competitors.

No paintball gun hung from his shoulder or uniform. He had no scrawny, underdeveloped muscles or acne. No, he was a fully formed man, and not a single bead of sweat clung to him. Chasing me through the forest hadn't cost him a damn thing.

Because he was a mafia assassin.

I knew it deep down in my bones.

I gulped as I heard the waves break against the cliff behind me. Forward meant falling into an assassin's hands. Backward meant risking the fall and the water.

Neither option was good.

In fact, both were a terrible idea.

Loose gravel shifted beneath my boots again as I edged backward, though I had nowhere to go.

His mouth curved into a sinister smile, and he raised a gun with a silencer on the end. “Not so fast.”

A viper coiled around my ribcage and squeezed tightly.

My jaw clenched. Behind me, the cliff offered the only possible escape.

“Do you think you can outjump a bullet?” he asked.

Possibly, if I surprised him. But even trying would be exceedingly foolish. My options were shrinking. I sucked in a slow breath, unsure what to do.