The knife came down toward her throat.
"Drop it!" Levi barked, diving between steel and skin.
"Who the hell—" the taller thug spat, swinging again.
"Now," Levi said, grabbing the blade arm and twisting. The knife skittered away and clattered against a dumpster.
"Get off!" the thug reached for Levi's face. Levi's shoulder drove into his ribs. The second attacker lunged. Levi stepped left and shoved him into a stack of crates. Plastic exploded. Glass chimed.
"Hands where I can see them!" someone in the crowd shouted. The alley had filled while the three of them fought. Phones appeared like small suns.
"That's enough," Levi said. He twisted the leader’s wrist and pinned it to the wet concrete. Rain spat from an exhausted sky. The thug's face hit the ground. He gasped and tried to pull free.
"You think you're in some action movie?" the leader sneered, smelling blood and fear.
"You're in Harbor City," Levi said. "Same rules. You lose."
The leader's friends—two with scuffed sneakers and one with a hoodie—froze. The tallest backed up and then ran, dragging a smaller man with him. The alley swallowed their curses.
A woman with a gag crouched against the wall. She lifted her chin slowly. Her gaze met Levi's. She wasn't shaking.
"Are you hurt?" Levi asked, voice flat and quick.
"Throat scraped," she said, careful with the words. "They left a mark. My name is Silvia."
Silvia. The
