“Stop talking!” she shrieked.
I shut my mouth, positioning myself so she wouldn’t see the driveway leading from the street to the warehouse. My hands and feet were starting to feel like lumps of ice—cute ballet flats might be more comfortable in the shop than heels, but they were worthless in the snow. My teeth started chattering as the cold worked its way through my limbs.
“You took that store from the Baranskis,” she muttered. “They would have served the Lord. I thought it was only the man corrupting innocent lives, but it was you, too.”
“Milo hasn’t corrupted anyone,” I replied sharply.
“Leads them astray. You’re leading them all astray. I knew when I saw you through the window that I’d have to deliver vengeance on you both.”
Careful not to make any sudden movements, I said, “Did you throw the brick? Who was in the car with you?”
“Shut up!” She swiveled and leveled a finger in my direction, reciting something beneath her breath.
When I spotted two dark shapes coming up the driveway, I forced my gaze back to Sandra and silently debated my options. I could go on the offensive, try to take her down and hope she didn’t have a weapon hidden under that coat, but I wasn’t confident that would work out in my favor. I could try to run, but between my aching knees, frozen feet, and flimsy shoes, I suspected I wouldn’t get far. Keeping her talking no longer seemed like a viable possibility, given how she’d screamed at me a moment ago.
That left waiting for her to make a move—or for the police or Milo to arrive—and preparing to defend myself.
The snow and wind had kicked up enough to obscure my view of the driveway when I tried to subtly glance over her shoulder. Even Sandra was now barely visible just a few feet away from me. In the distance, I heard a rumble that could have been thunder or an engine.
Either way, I braced.
Sandra heard it, too, and she lunged toward me. The momentum almost sent us both to the ground—the topic of Arnaud’s next seminar at Garden of Delights, which was no help to me now—but I managed to keep my feet under me as she wrapped an arm around my throat to position me in front of her.
From out of the white veil before us emerged several figures in dark blue uniforms, guns raised. Sandra’s arm went tight enough to cut off my breath. For a second, I yanked at hercoat, trying to drag it away, then Arnaud’s instructions filtered through the fog settling before my eyes.
I let go and jabbed my elbow hard into her stomach, twice in quick succession. As soon as her grip loosened, I grabbed her wrist, spun around to face her, and drove the heel of my hand into the base of her throat.
Unfortunately, when she gagged and staggered backwards into the grasp of a police officer I didn’t recognize, I stepped on a patch of ice and my legs went straight out from under me. I landed hard on my back, the impact forcing all the air from my lungs.
From my place on the pavement, I stared up at the falling snow, blinking a flake out of my eye as I struggled to suck in enough oxygen to fill my lungs again. A harsh wheeze whistled from my lips, but over it, I heard the sweet sound of Milo’s voice calling my name, layered with an officer reciting Sandra Billings’ rights as he placed her under arrest.
Milo was safe. I closed my eyes and let the sweet relief of that knowledge seep through my frozen limbs.
It was finally over.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Milo
Ifelltomykneesbeside her, clasping her frigid hands between both of my own while an officer assessed if she needed an ambulance. Eden looked terribly still, illuminated by the scattered headlights around us, and even though I was watching closely, I could barely see the rise and fall of her chest.
“Come on, beautiful,” I coaxed gently, unable to look away. “I need you to breathe for me, Eden. Did she hurt you? Are you injured?”
Snowflakes dotted her cheeks, pink and chapped from the cold, as her eyelids fluttered open so she could blink up at me. We’d pulled into the deserted parking lot behind the string of police cars—just as Sandra Billings yanked Eden in front of her like a shield.
My heart still felt like it was going to pound out of my chest.
I stroked her hair back from her face, murmuring encouragement until she managed a series of tiny, broken breaths. Her fingers tightened around mine, though she flinched like the movement pained her.
With a frown, I turned her hands over and saw the rough scrapes across each palm. “Shit, I’m sorry. Can you tell me where else it hurts?”
“Everywhere.” The word escaped on a breathless whimper that broke my heart.
“Okay,” I soothed, keeping hold of her as I ran my other hand along her cold limbs. “Do you think anything is broken?”
For a beat or two, she stared up at me, still trying to catch her breath, then she rasped, “Only my street cred.”
Her voice was hoarse, the words interrupted by her gasping breaths, but I sat back on my heels, threw back my head, and laughed. Though I wasn’t convinced she was completely unharmed after a landing like that, she was the only woman I knew who’d crack jokes while flat on her back on the snowy pavement.
