Unfortunately for Ilya, his gamble that John no longer had the appetite for war hasn’t paid off. The mafia boss is eager to send a message to the Barkovs that he’s still a force to be reckoned with, and we’re right in the center of the storm he’s kicking up.
Hunter spins towards a shadow moving towards us. Gunfire sparks and a man is knocked back by the force of a bullet. He doesn’t get up again. “Keep moving,” he says.
There are lights coming from the house. Some windows are blocked by shutters, and all of them are protected with bars. I see movement on the upper floor, and my heart stills.
“Quinn!” I yell, already breaking into a run. I keep my eyes on her for as long as I dare, but I have to get in there. I will see her again.
An advance party of McConkey’s men have already reached the house, and when they break down the front door, I’m right behind them as we go in. The sound of gunfire is deafening, and when I see the barrel of a rifle swinging towards me, I take aim and fire.
I always thought I’d need a moment to acknowledge my first kill, but the loss of this particular life doesn’t give me pause. I step over the body, and move deeper into the house.I seek out more targets and ignore the spurts of blood as more lives are extinguished at my hand.
The house is a warren of corridors, and the route to the stairs isn’t obvious. McConkey’s men are following their own objectives, and they leave me to find Quinn. But I’m not alone. As I enter a long corridor, my brothers are right behind me.
I’m about to round a corner when Ash pulls me to a stop. He uses hand gestures to point out moving shadows ahead. I press against the wall, my rifle pointed to where someone’s lying in wait.
Beyond the corridor is an ante space where the overhead light casts geometric lines. The silhouette of a handrail flickers as someone out of sight climbs to the upper floor. Whoever it is, they’re getting too close to Quinn. Fuck this, I haven’t got time to play with shadows.
As I straighten, I hand Mace my rifle and ignore his glare. I take my Glock from my holster and the knife strapped to my thigh. The knife flies through the air, and as it hits the wall opposite, I take the corner fast.
Mikhail’s waiting for me. He hasn’t fallen for the diversion, but he is expecting me to stop and take aim. I don’t. I plough straight into him, and his shot hisses past my ear. I match the Russian’s height, but not his bulk, and although he stumbles back, he doesn’t go down, not until I shoot out his kneecap. Mikhail prepares to fire as he goes down, but I aim for his hand next. He loses fingers as well as his gun.
I could put a bullet in his head right now and be done with it, but the last time I saw him was when he had Quinn in a chokehold. I don’t know what else he did to her, but I want him to know this is our reckoning before he dies.
As I stand over him, three red laser dots appear on his forehead from my brothers’ rifles, but thiskill is mine. “You’ll never touch her again,” I say. “You’ll never touch any woman again.”
I know the bastard is about to grin, or utter some final remark that might haunt me in the future, so I don’t give him the chance. I shoot him between the eyes at point blank range. And the only thing I feel is a hand on my shoulder.
“Let’s get her,” Ash says.
The upper floor has more corridors and more choices, but Mace directs us using the tracker signal. Shots echo throughout the upper level. The invading task force is up here too, clearing rooms, and as we round a corner, one of McConkey’s men is aiming his weapon at a locked door.
“Wait!” Mace says in a low hiss. “We’ll take this one.”
Killian has instructed his men not to interfere with us. The gunman backs away with a nod, then goes in search of another target.
As we crowd on either side of the door, Ash aims at the lock, which means someone else is going in first. “Hunter’s the best shot,” he whispers, but he leaves the choice to me.
While I agree that Hunter has the superior ability, he’s not going to react to Quinn’s safety in the same way I will. I’m not sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing, but if this goes wrong, it has to be on me.
“I want to take it,” I say.
There’s no argument, and no time to prepare. Ash shoots the lock and I’m the one kicking the door open. As I stride into the room, I quickly find my target. Ilya is standing on the far side of the bed, his forearm pressed against Quinn’s throat as he holds her tight against him. He has a gun to her head.
The room’s been trashed, but Quinn appears to be unscathed in a loose t-shirt and grey jog pants. One hand claws at Ilya’s arm as she fights for breath, and the otheris pressed protectively over her stomach. I don’t dare meet her gaze. I have to keep my eyes on Ilya, but he’s looking to my left where Ash has just appeared.
My brother raises his rifle and a red dot settles on Ilya’s forehead. Two more appear a second later.
My Glock doesn’t have a sight-finder, but my aim matches my brothers’.
“It looks like we have a deal to make after all,” Ilya says to Ash.
“Not with me.”
Quinn makes a guttural gasp. If I don’t act soon, Ilya will choke the life out of her. But if I shoot, he could pull the trigger on reflex.
“You were wrong to assume John McConkey would bow out of this fight,” Ash continues. “And you’re also wrong to assume that this is my call to make. If you want to plead for your life, speak to Reid. He’s in charge.”
I can feel Quinn’s eyes boring into me, and I give in. When our eyes meet, my heart floods with warmth that has no place in this scene of horror. It’s as intense as any embrace could be. I couldn’t feel closer to her now than if I were inside her. Her gaze drags mine down to where her hand has slipped beneath her t-shirt.
