Free Dead Letter Day by Eileen Rendahl

amount of silence.
    “How long have you been able to throw knives like that?” I countered.
    “That was my first time.”
    “Pretty good aim to hit your target like that from a moving vehicle the first time,” I observed.
    She smiled her big sunshiny smile. “It was, wasn’t it?”
    “How did you know you could do it?” I glanced over at her. She was still smiling.
    “I just…knew. It was the weirdest thing. It was like my body just knew.” She spread her hands in front of her and stared at them.
    I could see that. I’d had that happen a few times. Not with knives. I was a little jealous. That was a skill that could come in handy.
    “And now it’s like my brain knows, too.” The expression on Sophie’s face made it seem like her mind was totally blown.
    “What does it know?”
    “It knew how many rotations the knife would have to make to stick into those cows and what distance I would have to be from them to have enough space to make them.” Her smile faded. “So what do you think that was all about? The cows and that package.”
    I hadn’t had time to process much about that. “I’m not sure.”
    “It felt like a trap, Melina. Someone lured us out there and sicced those cows on us.” Now she sounded angry.
    I nodded. I’d come pretty much to the same conclusion, but who did things like that? First of all, there was that rule that no one was supposed to mess with the Messengers. Second of all, who used cow assassins to do their dirty business? Third of all, just plain why? Near as I knew, I hadn’t pissed anyone off lately, certainly not enough for them to send cow assassins after me in the dark of night.
    “So tell me more about the knives,” I requested, reverting to our earlier conversation.
    “I honestly don’t know. The second I had them in my hand, I knew it, though. I knew how to hold them. I knewwhen to release.” She leaned back in her seat. “It felt pretty awesome.”
    I understood what she meant. There’s something about an action feeling automatically good instantly that is incredibly satisfying. I’d felt that way the first time I’d done a spin kick. It was still one of my best moves. “We should probably capitalize on that. Get you some lessons or a practice board or something. I bet we could set something up in the studio.”
    “I’d like that. You’re a good teacher, Melina. Thank you.”
    I was shocked by how good that felt, too.

    I DROPPED SOPHIE OFF AT HER HOUSE, WATCHING UNTIL she was inside and had flashed the lights at me to know she was safe, and then went back to my own apartment. I dragged myself up the stairs. The apartment was dark and quiet. Norah had either already gone to bed or was staying at Alex’s. I didn’t know or really care which. All I wanted was my own bed. I texted Ted that I was home but was headed straight to dreamland.
    I slept in the next morning, not even bothering to pretend that I might go for a run without Ted there to drag me along. Besides, I wasn’t feeling completely safe. The cow attack was still creeping me out and it seemed better to err on the side of caution. Besides I’d have a long night tonight. It was one of the few shifts I was still taking, over at the hospital, and my shift went from eleven at night to seven in the morning.
    I puttered around the apartment until it was time to go into the dojo. I peeked out the peephole and spent a minute or two letting my other senses feel their way around the area before I opened the door. The routine was going to get pretty old if I had to do that every time I left the apartment, butI was having a big case of better safe than sorry at the moment.
    There was nothing there. There were no packages on my doorstep and no mad cows lurking in the street. I took the Buick through the car wash—she had treated me well the night before and I felt I should return the favor—and went to the studio.
    Again, I was cautious as I opened the door, casting about with everything open. Again, I