He’d turned the light back on, casting an eerie glow on the bodies.
There was so much blood. Pooling between their bodies, running over the uneven ground and into the cracks. My hand touched something sticky, and I dry heaved.
Strong arms lifted me back up to standing. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Jude put an arm around me, leading me out of the room. I slipped on more blood, but he held me steady.
There was shouting and the ping of bullets, the house sounding like it would cave in on itself. The noise of shoes hitting the ground upstairs was nearly deafening, and I hoped this meant our way out was about to be clear.
We hadn’t made it two steps out of the room when the door leading to the basement opened, letting more light into the space. Then Liam appeared at the top of the stairs.
He looked like an avenging angel, his face a mask of fury, his hair sticking up, and his suit ripped and bloody.
I whimpered when my eyes met his, and he didn’t waste any time sprinting down the steep wooden stairs. I felt myself ripped out of Jude’s steady grasp and pulled into Liam’s comforting embrace.
His whole body trembled, his hands roaming my body. He murmured into my neck, but I couldn’t make out the words. I held on, not able to let go even if I wanted to.
We stood like that for a long time, people coming and going around us. Someone called Liam’s name, and he slowly peeled himself away from me, leaving his arms around me.
Still not saying a word, he lifted me and carried me up the stairs, past a bunch of his men, and out the front door. I blinked against the sunlight, holding up a hand as a shield.
There was what looked to be an army surrounding the property, armored cars and men everywhere.
Gunner joined us, giving me a reassuring smile. “You okay?”
“I’m okay. But I might need stitches.” Holding up my arm, I noticed the wound had opened again.
Liam’s hold tightened to the point of pain. My ribs protested at the pressure, and I squirmed in his hold. “Take it easy, Rambo. My ribs need tender loving care, not a vise grip.”
He softened his arms immediately, kissing the top of my head. “I’m sorry,astérimou.”
Patting his chest with my good arm, I turned back to Gunner. But before I got a word out, Freya came sprinting around the corner, barreling straight into me and her brother. She threw her arms around us with a sob. “I can’t believe they took you.”
“I’m okay. Honestly. Just a little banged up.”
Freya took stock of my body, gasping when she spotted the dripping cut on my arm. “She needs to go to a hospital.”
One of Gunner’s men approached, holding a bandage and gauze. “You called for a paramedic?”
Of course Gunner would have a paramedic in his team. He was Mr. Prepared.
Holding up my good arm, I waved. “That would be for me.”
Examining my scratch, he put iodine on it, then wrapped it. “You’ll need stitches, but nothing seems to be damaged,” he said before stepping back.
“Told you so. A few stitches and I’ll be good as new,” I said in an attempt to reassure everyone.
“More like twenty,” the paramedic murmured not very helpfully.
“She good to go?” Liam asked, already turning the other way.
“Yup. This should be okay until she sees a doctor.”
Shouldering past Freya, Liam walked to one of the cars currently parked all over the street. He gently set me down, opening the door with one hand, the other arm staying around me.
“Lapochka,” a deep and familiar voice rumbled before I was torn out of Liam’s arms and into the familiar ones of Vlad. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Vlad,” I mumbled into his chest. “Can’t breathe.”
