Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

Lewis had given her. There had to be some reason why Finn was so keen to keep her away from Logres's official crime center. Something he didn't want her to see; something he didn't want her to know.
    And Emma always wanted to know things other people didn't want her to know.
    She found the supposed entrance easily enough; a narrow alleyway between two blank-faced, characterless buildings in an area of the city apparently given over almost entirely to storage and warehouses. The buildings were solid stone, with no windows, and steel doors so heavily reinforced you probably couldn't even scratch their paintwork with anything less than a point blank disrupter bolt. Not that Emma was planning on doing anything like that, of course. Or not yet, anyway. The warehouses didn't even have an obvious name or designation. Presumably, if you didn't know who they were, and what they stored, your custom wasn't needed or welcome.
    Emma stood at the mouth of the alleyway, looking down it, her gravity sled hovering patiently behind her. The alleyway was dark and shadowy, ostentatiously uninviting. Very much an enter-at-your-own-risk kind of alleyway. Emma looked back over her shoulder. The street was entirely empty. The few people who had been there when she arrived, apparently just going about their ordinary business, were gone now, and even the few windows overlooking the street were conspicuously empty.
    No one was watching. Whatever was about to happen, no one wanted to know. Emma smiled. She'd come to the right place.
    When she looked back at the alleyway, she found she was no longer alone. Half a dozen unnaturally large men with the kind of bulky distended muscles you could only buy in body shops, had emerged silently from the shadows and were now blocking the entrance to the alley. Four had swords in their hands, one had an ax, and one had an energy gun. The men held these weapons with a casual authority that suggested they knew how to use them. Six-to-one odds. Emma's smile widened. It was going to be a good day. The man with the energy gun scowled, confused by her easy attitude. He stepped forward, his gun aimed squarely at her gut.
    "Where do you think you're going, Paragon?"
    "I'm new in town. Thought I'd see the sights. And everyone says the Rookery is the place to go, if you're looking for scumbags."
    "No entry," said the spokesman, still scowling. "Off limits. To people in general, and mouthy Paragon bitches in particular. You're new, so we'll make allowances; this time. Get back on your sled and go back to your own territory. Or we'll teach you a lesson in manners. Make you cry, little girl. Make you get down on your knees and beg to be allowed to run off home."
    "Will you really?" said Emma. "I'd like to see you try. I really would. It's been a long time since any overweight thug with muscles between his ears has been able to teach me anything."
    She was grinning now. She knew she shouldn't, she knew it was unprofessional, but she just couldn't help herself. The man with the gun looked uncertain for the first time. Whatever reaction he'd been
    expecting, insolence and good cheer certainly wasn't it. He looked around at his associates, to reassure himself, and that was when Emma made her move. The moment the thug took his eyes off her, she launched herself forward into a tuck and roll, and came up with her sword and her gun already in her hands. The thug spun around, his gun still tracking where she used to be, and he was way off target when she surged back onto her feet and shot him neatly through his oversized chest. The force of the blast punched a hole right through him and blasted him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, already dead, the front of his shirt on fire.
    Emma laughed out loud and was in and among the others while they were still lifting their weapons, cutting about her with practiced speed and venom, her sword a shimmering blur. They were big but they were slow, especially the one with the ax, and she cut them down with almost insolent speed. They were too used to intimidating their victims, and when they did have to fight, they'd grown far too used to their numbers giving them the edge. They weren't ready to face a professional fighter. And they'd never met anyone like Emma Steel. She slipped between them with dazzling speed, never where they thought she was going to be, her sword plunging in and out, killing one man and moving on to the next while the first was still crumpling lifeless to the