Sastre sinks her knife, a wicked looking Bowie, deep into Gabriela’s chest. A look of surprise and shock flits across Gabriela’s face. The machete falls from her fingers. She drops like a puppet with cut strings.

Sastre bears down, knife ready to do the same to me, but I’m clear enough and fast enough to get the Browning out as she reaches me. Her eyes go wide as she realizes the Browning’s barrel is in her mouth, clinking against her teeth. She freezes, the blade barely an inch from my chest. She backs away slowly and I follow her, neither my gun nor her knife wavering.

She lowers the knife, and I pull the Browning back, but don’t lower it. “Where is Quetzalcoatl?”

“I fed him to a bunch of ghosts. He’s not coming to your rescue.”

“And I have mortally wounded your friend,” she says. “What are you going to do?”

“I was thinking I’d shoot you, seeing as I’ve got a gun and all you have is that pig sticker. Speaking of which, why not drop it?”

She laughs. It was worth a shot. “You first. Do you think I’ll trust you enough that you won’t shoot me? Killing me won’t be easy. If you succeed, you’ll pay for it. Go ahead, pull the trigger. I won’t die. Not right away. I have charms and protections. And I can promise I’ll last longer than your friend.”

There’s an unspoken “or” hanging in the air. I can see where this is going and I don’t like it one bit. Sastre is hurt, but up close I can see that her clothes are marked with holes tiny and huge, tears from buckshot and slashes. She’s taken a lot of hits, but very little has gotten through.

Even if I pull the trigger this close, whatever magic is protecting her will likely keep her going for a little while. She’ll outlast Gabriela.

“I’m listening.” I know what she’s going to say. I’ve already done the math and I’m not sure I can refuse. Every action I can think of might end with Sastre dead, but definitely ends with Gabriela dead. All except one, and it’s looking like the only viable course.

“Leave with your friend. Get her help. Let me go. We finish this up another time.”

It’s a tough call. I could end this here and now. Not forever. I can’t kill Quetzalcoatl by throwing ghosts at him. But I can slow him down, get the lighter, get this assassin out of my hair.

All for the price of one dead Bruja.

“What are you doing with the sticks?” I say, stalling for time I know I don’t have.

A sly smile on her lips. “Let me go and you’ll find out.”

Fuck. “We will finish this,” I say. “Soon.”