Nothing.
I glance over the shoulder of the seat and find Dante slumped over the steering wheel, motionless.
Did they take the fucking airbags out of this car when doing aftermarket changes?
My chest tightens until I can barely breathe.No. Not like this. Not here.
My hand’s already reaching for the door handle when Briar shoves against me, her eyes fierce, sharp as glass cutting through the haze.
“Give us cover fire as I get them out,” she snaps with no hesitation. “Those men are going to come down that hill any minute.”
For a second I almost bite back. I’m still not used to taking commands, least of all from her. But there’s no time to argue as I push my door open just as the headlights peek over the edge of the road. I crouch to hide my body behind the door, using the open window to peer over and fire off rounds as guards appear at the top of the ridge.
Through the chaos, I catch glimpses of Briar in motion. She could’ve been gone the second she touched the dirt outside this car. She could’ve left us all bleeding in this wreck and vanished into whatever safe place she swears exists.
But she doesn’t.
I risk taking a glance back as she hauls Callum out behind me with a speed that shouldn’t shock me, given her nature. After she gently places him near the front fender that’s wrapped around the tree trunk, she’s back. Her shoulders strain against the twisted door until she yanks it open and drags Dante free of the driver’s seat. He groans once, low and broken, his head lollingas she hooks his arm over her shoulders and drops him next to Callum in the cover of the brush.
My gut twists, grudging respect threading with disbelief. She doesn’t run to save herself. She moves like a trained soldier, every motion efficient and decisive.
I stay crouched behind the open passenger-side door, pistol steady, squeezing off rounds into the night as my uncle’s men expose themselves, heading toward the slope.
For the first time, I don’t see Briar as a burden to have broken out. I see her as someone choosing to bleed beside us.
The soft recoil of my gun bites through my wrist with every shot until I quickly release the empty clip and drag a fresh one from my pants, slamming it home.
Briar drops down into the dirt beside my feet, her hair wild around her face, Callum’s pistol clutched tightly in her hand. She smells of smoke and blood, her eyes gleaming hard in the silver wash of moonlight.
For a breath, I just stare. She’s here at my side, weapon ready, like she belongs in this line of fire. She meets my look head-on, no fear to be found–just raw defiance.
I snort, sharp and derisive before I can stop myself. “Do you even know how to use that thing?”
Her lips twist into something between a laugh and a snarl, wild and fearless. “Watch me.”
She pops up next to me, firing around the edge of the door. She squeezes the trigger once, clean and precise. The bullet splits the night, and a guard crouching down near the edge of their front bumper falls toward the slope, sliding down it on his face.
I blink, stunned at her precision.
She turns her head just enough to throw me a feral grin. “Good enough for you?”
I grunt, the sound low in my throat as my chest tightens. “Yeah,” I mutter, eyes snapping back to the road, “lucky shot.”
The truth hums in the back of my mind, though. Her shot wasn’t luck. Not at that distance and in this light. The night is dark around us, but blinding where the enemy headlights flare. For me, for Callum, and for Dante, it’s guesswork through glare and dark.
For a moment, I actually managed to forget she’s a vampire, but this reminder slams home. Her vision cuts through the dark better than any of ours, and for the first time, I don’t see that as a threat. I see it as the only damn advantage we’ve got.
I snap my weapon up again, and fire off shots, careful to aim and not waste my last bullets. Beside me, Briar fires with sharp, steady bursts and our shots force the remaining guards to duck behind the SUV’s doors.
For a heartbeat, we’re holding them, but then I see it.
Light on the horizon, their beams carving the night. Reinforcements.
My stomach twists at the thought. The math is simple and brutal. Even if we drop the men in front of us with the remaining ammo we have, the next wave will swallow us whole.
We can’t outrun them. We can’t outlast them. Not all of us.
I exhale once and cut my eyes to her. She’s wild in the moonlight, hair plastered to her face, fangs just barely glinting as she reloads with practiced speed. Ready to fight to the last breath, same as me.
