Because a deafening crash split the house open behind us, “Police, don’t move.” It was Pierre’s voice followed by Becket’s footsteps, and finally Eric barreling into the room like a force of nature. The intruder jerked his head toward the sound. But it was all Asher needed. He drove a fist into the man’s side causing the intruder to stagger back. Only for a heartbeat. Only for a breath. But enough for Becket to lunge and for Pierre to raise his weapon.
And Eric. . .he didn’t stop at the threshold. He went straight for me.
“Harmony!” he shouted, sliding on the glass as he reached me, hands gripping my arms, chest heaving. His eyes scanned me in half a second, checking for blood, injury, anything. “Are you hurt? Sunshine, did he touch you?”
I shook my head, but no sound came out.
Behind him, the intruder vaulted sideways, avoiding Pierre’s line of fire with inhuman precision. He hit the ground, rolled, and made for the broken window.
“Asher, grab him!” Becket yelled.
But Asher was on his knees, coughing, one arm wrapped around his ribs.
“Dammit,” he choked. “He’s fast.”
Eric turned just in time to see the masked man disappear through the frame, out into the blinding white of the orchard.
Becket bolted after him and Pierre followed, but this time Eric stayed by my side. I gripped the front of his jacket like a lifeline, like if I let go, my whole body would fall apart.
Eric’s arms wrapped around me instantly, fiercely, pulling me into the safety of him: his warmth, his strength, the unshakable steadiness that had carried me this far.
“We don’t know who he is and what he wants, but he’s here for you,” he murmured into my hair. “He’ll never reach you. I’ve got you, Sunshine.”
My whole body trembled. Because he was right. The intruder didn’t come to scare us. He came to take me. To finish something Olivier had tried to warn me about.
And as Eric held me, his heart pounding against mine, one horrifying truth settled in my chest like lead. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
CHAPTER 58
Harmony
No one in the house took a proper breath after the door slammed shut. We listened to every creak. Every shift of wind. Every phantom footstep that might’ve been real.
Pierre and Becket had vanished into the storm the moment the masked man retreated. They were hunting a shadow now. The kind of men who could track anyone through the woods. But not here. Not inside this house where the danger hadn’t ended, only refocused. Eric had eyes on the mudroom door and the back kitchen door. His chest rose and fell too fast, too hard.
Asher stood to my right, back against the island, positioned exactly where he could block both me and Olivier with one step. And me? My pulse lived in my throat.
“We’re safe,” I whispered, though my voice didn’t believe it.
Eric didn’t look away from the door. “He’s still out there.”
The wind howled. Branches scraped the siding. I glanced at Olivier.
He lay on his side, a blanket pulled over him, skin pale and damp with sweat. He wasn’t unconscious. His eyes fluttered inflickers, and every few breaths his fingers twitched like he was fighting something in a dream. Or waking from a nightmare.
“Asher,” I whispered. “We need to?—”
“Don’t,” he said sharply, then softened it. “Don’t move. Don’t go near the doors.” I swallowed hard and nodded.
Eric looked at him. “Did you see him clearly?”
Asher shook his head. “Mask. Hood. Tall. Strong enough to shove a solid wood door into my ribs.”
Eric’s jaw clenched. “Same guy Becket and I saw on the ridge.”
“What if it’s Ravenhill?” I whispered before I could stop myself.
Eric turned to me slowly. “He might be.”
