Chapter 73 Night Raid

Chapter 73 Night Raid

Two in the morning. Kyle wasn't sleeping. He sat in the chair, hands resting on his knees. The door stood open, the street corner empty, streetlights casting their glow over bare asphalt. By the time he heard the footsteps, it was already too late—the intruder had come through the back. The lock had been picked silently. What Kyle heard was the soft scrape of shoe soles on the kitchen floor. Light, but he was listening. His fingers lifted from his knees and settled on the knife handle.

He stood, drawing the blade from behind his waist. The rune pressed cool against his palm. The kitchen door cracked open and a figure slipped through. Black hoodie, the hood pulled low, gripping a short knife.

The man saw Kyle and didn't hesitate. He charged straight forward. The blade came up from below in a rising slash. Kyle twisted sideways. The knife tip grazed his ribs, tearing fabric but missing flesh. Kyle's left hand clamped around the man's wrist while his right hand drove the knife handle forward. The man jerked his head aside. The handle slammed into his shoulder with a crack of bone. He didn't retreat. His knee drove upward. Kyle pulled his stomach in. The knee caught his thigh instead. They collided. A cup toppled off the table and shattered on the floor.

Footsteps upstairs. Irene's voice. "Kyle?"

"Don't come down." Kyle shouted.

Silence above. The man took advantage of Kyle's distraction, switching the knife to his left hand and slashing horizontally. Kyle stepped back. The blade swept past his stomach, slicing through more fabric.

He didn't retreat again. He stepped forward, bringing his knife down from above. The man raised his blade to block. The knives met with a spray of sparks. Kyle pressed down, his left hand grabbing the man's knife hand and twisting outward. Another crack of bone. The man's knife clattered to the floor and skittered into the corner.

The man staggered back a step, his left hand clutching his right wrist. Kyle closed in, knife point pressed to his throat. "Who sent you?" The man said nothing. The blade pushed forward an inch. A bead of blood welled up and ran down the steel. "Klaus. He sent me for the list. He said get the list, don't touch your daughter."

Kyle's grip tightened on the handle. "The list isn't here."

"He said it's in your daughter's room."

Kyle stared at him, pushing the blade forward another fraction. The blood bead became a thin line. "He lied to you."

"He paid me."

Kyle withdrew the knife and stepped back. The man pressed his hand to his throat, blood leaking between his fingers. Kyle bent down, picked up the fallen knife, and tucked it behind his own waist. He walked to the door, pushed it open, and stood on the steps. The street corner was empty. Cold wind rushed into his collar. He stood there for a moment, then turned back inside. "Go. Tell him. The list isn't here. If he comes again, I'll take his hand."

The man left through the back door, his footsteps fading.

Kyle closed and locked the door. Walked back and sat down. Broken glass on the floor. Blood. A few drops. He stared at it for a while. Then stood and walked to Amy's bedroom door. It was open. She lay on her side, still asleep. He stood there briefly, then gently closed the door. Downstairs. Irene stood at the bottom of the stairs, hair loose, gray sweater. "Kyle. Who was it?"

"Klaus's man."

"For the list?"

"Yes."

She said nothing. Walked to the kitchen and swept up the broken glass, wiped away the blood. Came back and sat down. "Kyle. Will he come back?"

"Yes."

"What will you do?"

Kyle slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the key. Hard. Cold. "Wait for him."

Dawn. He walked to the window and lifted the curtain. The street corner was empty. He let the curtain fall and went upstairs. Amy was still sleeping. He stood in her doorway for a moment, then gently closed the door. Downstairs.

Irene held a cup of coffee. "Taking her today?"

"Yes."

Footsteps thundered upstairs. Amy ran down, blue hair ribbon, red sweater. Same questions, same answers. After dropping her off, he found a white envelope on the street corner on his way back.

He opened it. One line inside: "Where is the list?"

He folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. Back home, he picked up his phone. "Tell him. The list is with me. If he wants it, come get it himself."

Seer replied instantly. "He says—are you insane?"

Kyle didn't respond. Irene looked at him. "Kyle. You're inviting him here?"

"Yes."

"Will he come?"

"Yes."

She nodded. Kyle stared at the door. It stood open. The street corner empty. The next person who came wouldn't be leaving empty-handed.