"I love you too." His grey eyes burned into mine. "You better stay alive."
Then he was gone, plunging into the chaos, and I was alone with the sound of war tearing my new family apart.
13
SIEGE
Ilasted thirty seconds in that bathroom. The sounds were too much—gunfire crackling like a thunderstorm, glass shattering, men shouting orders I couldn't make out. Somewhere below, someone was screaming. Not pain. Rage. The primal sound of violence unleashed. I grabbed the tactical pen from my discarded jeans, shoved my feet into boots without lacing them, and moved.
The hallway was chaos.
Smoke hung in the air, acrid and thick, burning my throat with every breath. Emergency lights strobed red, casting everything in hellish flashes. A Phoenix member I didn't recognize pressed against the wall, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, returning fire through a shattered window. "Get down!" he shouted when he saw me.
I dropped to a crouch, scuttled along the wall. More gunfire—closer now, somewhere on the stairs. The distinctive boom of Tank's shotgun. Irish's voice, calling out positions in clipped military cadence. The common room was a warzone.
Overturned tables provided cover for Phoenix members firing toward the blown-out front entrance. Bullet holes pockedthe walls. The bar had taken a direct hit—bottles shattered, alcohol pooling across the floor, mixing with something darker. Blood. Someone's blood.
I spotted Axel near the kitchen doorway, gun raised, firing controlled bursts at shadows moving outside. Even in chaos, he was beautiful—all deadly grace and lethal precision. Every shot found its mark. Every movement was economy itself. Then I saw Jake.
He was pinned behind a overturned couch, alone, separated from the main group. Two Devil's Dust had him flanked—one keeping him suppressed with covering fire, the other circling toward his blind spot. Jake couldn't see him coming.
I moved without thinking. The first man never heard me. I came up behind him, tactical pen driving into the soft tissue below his ear. He dropped, convulsing. The second spun at the noise, raised his gun.
Jake tackled him from behind.
They went down hard, grappling on the floor. Jake was scrappy but outmatched, the Devil's Dust twice his size. A fist connected with Jake's jaw. Then another. I grabbed a bottle from the floor, smashed it across the attacker's skull.
He slumped. Jake shoved him off, gasping. "You okay?!" I hauled him up.
"Yeah. Thanks." His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with adrenaline. "Where's?—"
The bullet caught him mid-sentence. One moment he was standing. The next, he was on the ground, clutching his shoulder, blood welling between his fingers. His mouth opened but no sound came out—just shock, raw and absolute.
"Jake!" I dropped beside him, hands already moving to assess. Entry wound, upper chest, left side. Dangerously close to the subclavian artery. "Stay with me. Look at me."
"Kai—" His voice was thready. "I can't?—"
"You can. You will." I ripped off my shirt, pressed it against the wound. The fabric bloomed red instantly. "Keep pressure here. Don't let go."
More gunfire. A window exploded somewhere behind us. I heard Axel shouting my name, but I couldn't look up, couldn't think about anything except the kid bleeding out under my hands. "I need a med kit!" I screamed. "Someone get me a fucking med kit!"
Blade appeared out of nowhere, sliding across the floor like a baseball player stealing home. He shoved a trauma bag into my hands, then spun and fired three shots at something I couldn't see.
"How bad?" he asked without looking.
"Bad. I need to stop the bleeding or he's dead in minutes."
"Do what you have to do. I've got you covered."
I worked fast. QuikClot into the wound—Jake screamed, back arching off the floor. Pressure bandage over that, wrapped tight. His blood was slick on my hands, hot and copper-smelling, and I shoved down the panic because panic didn't help anyone.
"Stay with me, Jake. Talk to me."
"Hurts," he gasped.
"I know. That's good. Pain means you're alive." I checked his pulse—rapid but present. His color was bad, shock setting in, but the bleeding was slowing. "You're going to be fine. You hear me? You're going to be fine."
"Kai—" His hand found my wrist, grip surprisingly strong. "Don't let me die. Please. I just—I just found my family."
