“Aria,” he gasps. “Help me.”
“Shut up, Ryan,” she snaps, not looking at him. Her eyes are on us, on the weapons we’re holding, on the calculation of whether we’ll actually fire.
Ryan’s hand is moving. Reaching for something. His gun. The one he dropped when I shot him.
I see it. Track it. Finger tightening on my trigger.
But Ryan’s faster than he should be. Pain and adrenaline making him reckless. He grabs the gun, swings it up toward me.
And fires.
The shot hits my leg. Left thigh. The impact knocks me sideways, my own shot going wide, punching through the wall behind Aria.
Pain explodes up my leg, white-hot and immediate. I go down hard, my knee hitting the floor, my weapon dropping from my hand.
“Silas!” Parker screams.
Another shot. Louder than Ryan’s. Different caliber.
Aria’s gun.
Ryan’s head snaps back, blood spraying across the floor. He drops, dead before he hits the ground.
“You fucking idiot,” Aria says, her gun smoking. “I needed him alive.”
Parker is screaming, pulling at her restraints with desperate strength. The zip ties are loosening but not fast enough.
I’m on the floor, blood pouring from my leg, my vision swimming. The bullet hit something important. Artery maybe. Definitely muscle. I can feel the hot pulse of blood, too much blood, pooling beneath me.
Jace is moving toward me but Aria swings her gun toward him.
“Don’t,” she warns. “Nobody moves or the sniper shoots Parker.”
The red dot is still on Parker’s chest. Still steady. Still ready.
“Silas,” Parker’s voice is wrecked, crying, terrified. “Silas, no, please.”
I try to respond but the pain is making it hard to think. Hard to focus on anything except the burning in my leg and the wetness spreading across the floor.
Parker’s still working the restraints. Her wrists are bloody now from the effort but she’s almost free. Almost.
Outside, the laser sight disappears.
Gunshot. Different direction. One of our people taking out the sniper.
“Sniper down,” Williams reports through the comm. “Clean shot.”
The moment the laser sight vanishes, Parker breaks free. The zip ties snap, her wrists coming apart, and she’s moving before Aria can react.
She drops from the chair, hitting the floor, crawling toward me with desperate speed.
“Silas,” she’s saying, over and over. “Silas, stay with me. Stay with me.”
Her hands are on my leg, pressing down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The pressure makes me want to scream but I lock it down, force it back.
“I’m okay,” I manage, though we both know it’s a lie.
“You’re not okay, you’re bleeding everywhere,” Parker says, her voice breaking. Her hands are shaking, covered in my blood, pressing harder. “Someone help him!”
