I charge at the man, who is now running at Owen. Using one of the closest chairs, I run, jump up onto it, and launch myself at the offender’s body in a messy rugby tackle.
We fly into the table, the centre piece obliterated as we hit the vase and tumble to the other side.
Pain splinters through my side and ribs, the breath exploding out of me as I’m winded. I wince out a curse as another explosion rocks the room. Sound, dust and debris along with more screams momentarily stuns me.
I don’t have time to wait for the other server to get up. There is no mistaking that sound, and if whoever is doing this is happy to create not one but two explosions at a charity event, then I need to get Owen out. And fast.
Owen hits the deck in reaction to the explosion.
God, I hope he hasn’t been hit. Otherwise, I’ve failed before I even got started.
I leap back across the table and crouch down next to him, where he’s staring at the expressionless, glassy eyes of his personal assistant, Jules.
“Owen.” He doesn’t move; his body frozen in shock. I move position and crouch down in front of him.
“Look at me.” I grab his chin and hold his eyes to mine. “When I move you move, if I tell you to get down, you get the fuck down. If I tell you to run, you run, and you do not look back. Whoever is after you will use this room and this chaos to target you. We need to get you out of here. Do you understand?”
He blinks slowly and barely nods.
“I need you with me, Owen. Are you with me?” My voice is firm and emotionless. There isn’t time for emotion now, that comes later.
He glances back down at Juliette and touches her face softly once more, pain etched across his handsome features.
I grab his hand and yank him up. “Stay low and follow me.”
We crouch run to the first server I took out with my knife.
“Down,” I instruct, and Owen obeys.
I reach down and pull out the knife from the server’s chest, wiping the blood on the tablecloth, then reach for his dropped gun.
I cock it and stand.
Terrified people are still running to the exits, the human reaction of fight or flight taking over, and they all run and grapple over each other to save themselves.
This is humanity at its worse.
There is nothing more deadly than scared animals trying to save themselves, and people are no different. Our instincts take control in these situations.
Pushing, shoving, clawing at each other to save themselves.
“You need to go out that door there.” I point to the far side of the hall. “From there, you are going to go through the hotel’s back corridors to a car that is parked in the alley. You go through that door, go down the corridor, turn right, then the second left. The doors to the car are open and the keys are in the visor. There is an envelope in the glove compartment. Follow the instructions inside it and turn the phone on. Nod if you understand.”
He nods; his eyes are wide. He’s still got Jules’ blood all over him, but he understands.
“When I stand up, I am going to create a diversion. You are going to stay low and run.”
He’s still with me, barely, so I stand up and we run towards the next bank of tables. The room’s crowds are slowly dispersing, but as we get closer to the tables by the entrance to the event, we see the damage.
Tables and chairs have been knocked over. People are lying lifeless on the floor. Some are writhing around in pain, but others haven’t made it, their wounds too severe.
This is a shit show.
Whatever Owen is involved in is so much more than just the Covenant.
Who would bomb a charity event?
I’ve seen a lot of devastation in my time, but this, the aftermath of an attack like this, it’s horrific. The smell of burning flesh and dust fills the air. The screams of the terrified, the wails of the injured.
