The alley behind the rail yard stank of rust, wet concrete, and the faint metallic tang of old blood baked into the ground from fights long past, the sodium lamp overhead flickering like a dying heartbeat casting erratic shadow that danced across the chain-link fence.
Reyna's fingers were still laced through mine, her pulse a rapid drum against my palm, when the shadows thickened—seven silhouettes peeling from the darkness with the synchronized menace of a pack that had hunted these streets together for years.
Three girls stepped into the orange glow first, hips cocked like loaded weapons, lips glossy and curled in identical sneers; four boys fanned behind them, shoulders squared, knuckles already cracking, the air around them humming with the low menace of territory marked and challenged.
The tallest girl drawled, voice syrupy with fake sugar, nails tapping a rhythm on her hip. "Look who dragged in fresh meat."
