Free Jade Tiger by Jenn Reese

lungs still refused to admit air. She sucked in great mouthfuls as she blocked a flurry of Dart's kicks. All Shan could do was knock the attacks away, trying to dodge. Dart had speed, but she also had power to back it up. Those pointed boots of hers could easily break a rib, or even her skull. Maybe she needed the knife after all.
    But soon, almost imperceptibly, Dart started to tire. Kicking took a lot more energy than punching, and the woman had been at it for quite some time. The blink-of-an-eye's difference in speed was all the opening Shan needed.
    Dart's next roundhouse kick, intended to sneak around Shan's defenses, landed squarely in Shan's waiting arms. She trapped the kick and moved Dart's leg to the side, giving Shan the opening she wanted. Shan lashed out with her own foot and smashed Dart's dislocated arm against her body.
    Dart barely managed to muffle her scream as she fell to the floor and curled her body around her wounded limb. Shan grabbed the discarded belt and quickly looped it around Dart's ankles. She pulled it into a tight knot and headed for the knife. As she bent over to retrieve it from under the dresser, a pain in her chest made her gasp. Shan's free hand pressed against her ribs reflexively. Probably a crack. Something to look at later.
    Dart's eyes widened as Shan stood back up, the long knife in her hand.
    "Not too scared to use that now that I'm tied up," Dart growled. "How brave."
    Shan ignored her. She strode over to the two hostages, her other hand still pressed against her ribs, and cut the ropes binding them to the chairs. The woman pulled the gag out of her mouth and helped her daughter. Shan took the discarded rope and headed back to Dart.
    "Roll over and make this easy," Shan said quietly.
    "You wish," Dart said, her eyes glinting.
    "Not really," said Shan, as she kicked Dart in the shoulder again.
    Dart howled. Shan quickly covered Dart's mouth with her hand. When the noise subsided, Shan lifted her hand and spun Dart onto her belly. More carefully than the woman deserved, Shan pulled Dart's wrists behind her back, ignoring the whimpers, and tied them firmly together.
    "Etienne? Where is my son?" said Mrs. Fortier from behind Shan.
    "You speak English," said Shan, immediately irritated that she had chosen to state the obvious. "He's fine. He's in the attic."
    The woman stood and handed Shan her gag. Shan took it and looped it over Dart's head and into her mouth. The five-year-old girl, her face streaked with dried tears, said nothing but stared coldly at Dart.
    "And Charles?" the woman said. "My husband?"
    "He's downstairs," said Shan. "I'm going for him next. I want you and your daughter safely in the attic first."
    The wife nodded. "I don't know who you are, but thank you."
    Shan nodded, her insides twisting. None of this would have happened if not for Shan. This family, who knew nothing of the animals or Shan's enemies, had been swept into the fray without their knowledge. Disposable and nameless.
    "Let me check the hallway first," said Shan gruffly, grabbing the remaining rope from the girl's chair. She opened the door quietly, not sure what to expect in the hallway. Behind her, the mother comforted her daughter in low tones. Ahead of her, Shan heard a grunt from the bathroom.
    "What next?" Shan muttered. She sprinted down the hallway and entered the bathroom. Baldy was just starting to stand, using the toilet to help himself up. Shan took two steps closer and once again struck him in both sides of his neck. Her aim was true. The man's head lolled to the side, and he once again collapsed. This time, however, Shan had rope and a gag.
    The trap door to the attic opened just as Shan was leaving the bathroom. She saw Etienne's scrawny legs descending far too quickly.
    "Stop," she whispered, wishing desperately that she had learned more French than "Please," "Thank you," and "The pencil of my aunt is blue."
    The legs not only stopped descending, but they scrambled back into the attic.