Free Valknut: The Binding by Marie Loughin Page B

gave the pepper spray another tug and it came loose in her
hand. Before anyone could act, Jungle Jim rounded the corner and
plowed into Lennie’s back, knocking her into Junkyard.
    “Sorry, Missy,” he said, “Didn’t know you’d
be standin’ there.” Then he saw the gangbanger and his eyes got
big. “Hey, Dougie! That guy’s got a gun!”
    The kid sneered at him and opened his mouth
for some snide remark. Junkyard blurred into action, kicking the
weapon from the kid’s hand. It flew onto the tracks, took an odd
bounce and clattered to rest under the end car.
    But the gangbanger was quick. Before Junkyard
could recover his balance, the kid swung a foot through his planted
leg. Junkyard fell awkwardly and rang his head on the iron rail.
His knife dropped from his hand and rattled across the gravel.
Lennie gaped at it, frozen by the sudden violence. The kid scooped
up the knife before she thought to move. Dismayed, she found her
voice. “Dammit! Junkyard, he’s got your knife!”
    The kid rushed at Junkyard. Fresh blood
seeped through the stitches on his arm. “I’ll teach you to mess
with the Ragman.”
    Junkyard rolled to his back and blinked up at
him, eyes unfocused. The kid grinned and fingered the blade.
“This’ll be easy, no?”
    “No!” Lennie lunged forward, stretching the
pepper spray toward the gangbanger. Her hand shook so badly she was
afraid she’d drop it. “Back off. Just-just back off, Ragman—or
whatever you call yourself.”
    The Ragman turned toward her. His eyes
narrowed on the canister. He spread his hands and let the knife
dangle, as if surrendering. What now? Tell him to leave? Then he
exploded toward her, snarling. She screamed and back-pedaled.
Aiming wildly, she triggered the spray.
    Nothing happened.
    Aghast, she shook the canister and banged it
on her leg. He was on her before she could fire again and caught
her forearm with fingers like steel cable. He held the knife
casually in his other hand, as if she posed no threat.
    “Too bad,  chica .” His mouth
twisted in a vicious grin. “Now maybe we can have a party, just you
and me.”
    She struggled against his grip, panting,
every nerve on fire. Over his shoulder, she saw Jim tug at
Junkyard, who sat up groggily. She needed to stall and give him
time to recover. The Ragman yanked her close, trapping the pepper
spray between them. Her finger found the nozzle. It had to work
this time. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Please, please,
please.”
    “Hey, I like it!” The Ragman tickled her ear
with his knife. “Beg some more, little  chica .”
    “I wasn’t talking to you.” She triggered the
pepper spray, not caring if she caught herself in the blast as
well. The canister sputtered pathetically, barely making her eyes
water. “ Chingao !” The Ragman coughed and wiped at tearing
eyes, his face contorted with fury. “Fuck, bitch—you gonna pay for
that.”
    Red-faced, he twisted her arm so hard that
cords stood out on his neck and she thought her bones would break.
She resisted, refusing to let go of that useless spray.
    Where the hell is Junkyard?
    Sharp pain shot through her wrist and her
fingers sprang open. The spray fell to the ground and the pain
stopped, but she saw her death in the Ragman’s contorted face. He
raised the knife. Screaming, she shielding herself with her free
arm and waited for the slice of the blade.
    But the blow never came. A harsh laugh
erupted from the Ragman. She lowered her arm and found him staring
at the tattoo on the back of her hand.
    “Shit, man!” Grinning unpleasantly, he
touched the design with the knife. “Looks like you gonna be no fun,
after all. I gotta save you for El Lobo.”
    Lennie met his feral gaze and her breath
caught. He twisted her hand into her face, as if she needed a
reminder of what was branded there. But she couldn’t look away from
his eyes.
    His animal yellow eyes.
    They burned like acid into her brain. An
answering burn flared in her tattoo—an