Their feet slap faster and closer to me with every stride I take.

Their legs are longer and stronger than mine. It’s just a matter of seconds before they’ll be on me. My center of gravity is way lower than theirs so I can zigzag like nobody’s business, but that’ll only buy me a few more seconds.

I run by several people who crouch behind cars on their way back to the school. None of them looks willing to help.

The standard advice against muggers is to toss away whatever they’re after and run like hell because your safety is worth so much more than your purse. That’s a no-brainer. Except they’re either after me or Raffe’s sword. I can’t give up either of those.

My adrenaline is pumping and fear is screaming at me. But my training kicks in and I automatically run through my options.

I could scream. Obi’s men would be out here in a second. But so might the angels if there are any within hearing distance. There’s a reason why we need to be quiet and stay out of sight. I’d be putting everyone at risk by screaming, and the soldiers might shoot all of us with their silencer-enhanced guns to shut me up.

I could run into Obi’s building. But it’s too far away.

I could stop and fight. But my chances are pretty poor against three men with weapons.

I don’t like any of my options.

I run as fast and as far as I can go. My lungs burn and I’m getting a stitch in my side, but the closer I can get to Obi’s building, the better the chance that Obi’s men will see us and stop the attackers.

When my back prickles, telling me they’re getting too close, I turn around and pull out my sword.

Damn, I sure wish I knew how to use it.

The men skid to a stop and fan out around me.

One lifts his bat to striking position. Another pulls out two hammers from his coat pockets. The third pulls out the kitchen knife from his belt.

I am so screwed.

People pause to watch—a few faces through the windows, a mother and child at an open doorway, an older couple under an awning.

“Get Obi’s men,” I whisper-shout to the couple.

They grip each other tightly and hide behind a post.

I hold out my sword like a light saber. It’s about the only sword knowledge I have. I’ve trained with knives, but a sword is a whole other animal. I guess I could bludgeon them with it like a bat. Or maybe if I throw it at them, I might get a chance to run.

But there’s a gleam in their eyes that tells me this isn’t just about getting a pretty weapon off an easy target.