A short story set in the same universe as Buckell’s totally awesome Crystal Rain, Ragamuffin and Sly Mongoose?
Yes, please.
Tiago would normally have taken his cut of the picked pockets and stopped right here at the Seaside Plaza. On the very edge, past the vendors on the cobblestone sea walk, Tiago would sit with his legs over the rocky sea wall and look out over the harbor.
Today he only detoured through the plaza to throw the crowd in between him and the woman chasing him.
He’d gotten a brief glimpse of her before the running started: tall, dark eyes, dark skin, dark leather jacket and microfibre pants, careful dreadlocks pulled back into a pony tail.
She was fast in the crowd. She wasn’t dodging around legs, using the ebb and flow of the masses to see open routes like Tiago. No, people who got in her way were just… thrown out of the way.
Too strong. She was some sort of soldier, Tiago thought, refocusing ahead.
He might have gotten himself into a bit of a situation.
