Mystic Warrior. Alex Archer

He rushed at her, intending to use his size and weight against her.

      Annja swept his lead foot as it came down, putting it in front of the other foot so that he tripped himself. At the same time, she grabbed his jacket lapels, twisted tightly to accelerate and direct his fall, and pulled him face-first into the wall hard enough to break the plasterboard.

      Without a sound, Barney dropped to the floor unconscious.

      Melanie held her open hands to either side of her face. “Did you kill him?”

      “No.” Annja knelt to unlace one of Barney’s boots, intending to use the string to tie him up. She didn’t need him waking while she was trying to deal with the other two in the room.

      Seeing how the tide had turned, Krauzer started to reach for the knife.

      “Don’t,” Annja warned as she looped the lace around the unconscious biker’s wrists.

      “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Krauzer replied, even as he pulled his hand back from the knife.

      “I’m going to do exactly that for the moment.” Annja finished tying the biker’s hands behind his back and rose.

      In the hallway, neighbors stood in slack-jawed amazement. Several of them were talking into their cell phones. And some of them were taking pictures and video.

      Great. Nothing’s ever private these days. Annja sighed and turned her attention to Krauzer and Melanie. “The police are going to be here in minutes, so this is how this is going to go down.” She looked at Melanie. “You’re going to tell me where the scrying crystal is.”

      For a moment, Melanie acted as if she was going to refuse. Then she collapsed onto a nearby sofa and started to cry. “It’s in the bedroom closet.”

      Annja turned to Krauzer, not trusting him to be in the room alone with Melanie. “Go get the crystal.”

      Krauzer frowned, but he went to the adjacent bedroom, rattled around and came back with a boot box. “Found it. And it doesn’t look counterfeit at all.” He smiled in relief and satisfaction, then glanced at Melanie. “Wow, you and Barney boy are into some kinky stuff.”

      “And you,” Annja said, ignoring the comment, “are going to let me examine that scrying crystal.”

      Krauzer wrapped his arms around the box protectively. “This is mine. I risked my life to get this. I’m never letting it out of my sight again.”

      On the floor, Barney snuffled, waking, then struggled and tried to get up.

      Annja plucked the knife from the floor and looked at Krauzer. “I risked my life to help you, and I’m still going to have to deal with the police for hours because of you, so I’m going to get to study that crystal. Otherwise, I’m going to cut Barney free. I figure you guys have time for a rematch before the police arrive. Do you like your chances?”

      Krauzer gritted his teeth. “All right, but we should go, not hang around for the cops.”

      Pointing at the people at the door, Annja said, “This is probably going out live on television right now.”

      Outside, sirens filled the street and grew louder as they neared the building.

      “And we’re all out of time for running.”

      * * *

      “THEY WERE READY to kill each other over this?” LAPD sergeant Will Cranmer looked at the scrying crystal Annja was studying. He was in his early fifties; his hair and mustache were gray and neatly clipped, and he wore aviator sunglasses against the dimming sun.

      The spherical crystal appeared to have been cast of yellowish glass and was as big as both her fists put together. Each of its four flat spots were about as large as Annja’s thumb.

      Annja leaned against Krauzer’s Lamborghini. “I think kill may be a bit strong.”

      She’d had confrontations with police all over the world. They all wanted people to admit to things so court cases would go more easily. She wasn’t going to confirm anything that would possibly bring on more trouble. “The discussion did get heated.”

      “There is the broken door—”

      “That door is very flimsy,” Annja said. “I’m sure you noticed that.”

      “—and the knife—”

      “Which belongs to Barney.”

      “—who also doesn’t look so good.” Cranmer nodded toward the big biker in the back of a nearby patrol car.

      Handcuffs had replaced the bootlace Annja had used to bind the man. Dried blood covered his upper lip and beard.

      “That was me,” Annja said. “Barney didn’t want to give up on the knife after I took it away from him.”

      “You did that?” Cranmer looked impressed.

      “Yeah.”

      “Krauzer is telling the detectives that he did it.” The police officer thrust his chin toward the front of the apartment building.

      The director stood between two detectives and was enjoying the attention he was getting from members of the local news media, who were held back by yellow tape.

      Annja smiled. “He loves telling stories, so we’ll let him have his glory as long as he can hang on to it.” She had responded only, “No comment,” every time a reporter thrust a microphone into her face and they’d quickly gravitated to Krauzer. “But in case Melanie Harp or Barney tell you later it was me, it was me.”

      “Good to know. I’ll clue the detectives in.”

      Nobody was getting Barney’s side of the story. Or Melanie Harp’s. The actress had tried to get access to the media, but she’d been locked in the back of another patrol car. “So what makes this glass bowling ball so important?” Cranmer asked.

      “It’s a prop in Krauzer’s new movie,” Annja said. “It’s the scrying crystal of an elf witch.”

      “What’s the movie?”

       “A Diversion of Dragons.”

      Cranmer crossed his arms and leaned against the car beside Annja. “Fantasy?”

      “Yes.”

      “Can’t wait to tell the chief.”

      “Why?”

      Cranmer grinned. “Krauzer kind of mentioned he had a part in the new movie the chief might be great for.”

      “So Krauzer thinks a part in a movie is a get-out-of-jail-free card?”

      Cranmer nodded.

      “Is it?”

      “Yep.”

      “That doesn’t sound fair, does it?”

      Cranmer grinned. “You still believe in fair?”

      “That does sound kind of funny, doesn’t it?”

      “Everybody wants to be in front of the camera.”

      “How about you?”

      “I was a bit player in a lot of cop shows when I was younger. I got over it,” Cranmer said. “So tell me about the crystal ball.”

      “Scrying crystal.”

      Cranmer shrugged. “I’ve arrested fortune-telling con artists with bigger balls.”

      Annja raised her eyebrows.

      “I’m a fan of your show,” Cranmer said after a moment’s hesitation. “I was a history major at college before I spent time in the military and became a police officer.” He nodded at the scrying crystal. “I noticed you weren’t just looking at that like it was a prop.”

      Annja