"Did Viktor send you to drag us back?" I ask, putting as much venom behind the question as I can to cover how scared I am. "Because I'm not going back. I can't stay in his world—it’s too dangerous.”
"The world is no longer safe for you, no matter where you go," Iliya replies. There is no anger to his words, no force, almost no intonation at all. The only thing I hear is straightforward candor. "The only place you’re safe right now is with Viktor. When this is all over, you can choose what you want to do, and I don’t think Viktor will stop you. But now, to keep you safe, you must stay with him. He will protect you."
It takes me a long minute to run through all the options.
“Is anyone with you?” I ask, eyeing the hulking black SUV waiting at the curb.
“No. I came alone once I knew where to find you. Even Viktor doesn’t know I’m here.”
That surprises me, and my gaze snaps back to the dark eyes, because I understand how enormous this is. Iliya is, for better or worse, defying his boss, the man to whom he is endlessly loyal, just to give me the option to say no. To run again. To seek safety elsewhere without Viktor knowing.
“I—” I stumble, my mouth dry. Then I look at Suzie, who has put her life and career on hold for me, and Eliza, who deserves so much more. “Okay.” I hang my head, then take a breath deep into my lungs, steadying myself. “Okay, I’ll go with you. But I’m trusting you, Iliya.Idetermine whether I stay or go when all this is over.”
He nods, a solemn promise without words.
We gather the few things we have, and, along with Benji, we file out into the rain and cold. Iliya stands by the open door, solemn, though his eyes linger on Suzie for a heartbeat.
A sharp crack splits the air. The sound is deafening in the quiet neighborhood, and Eliza screams and clings to me. Iliya jerks, grunts, and puts a hand to his side.
"Iliya?"
I don't understand what's happening until I see the red creep through his closed fingers—blood. Lots of blood, dark and oozing.
"Iliya!" Suzie shrieks.
She runs before I can stop her, and time seems to slow as I see her closing the distance between them, Iliya reaching out to stop her, and Eliza doing her best to yell at Benji to stay.
Another sharp crack sends time spiraling back into normal mode. Eliza's scream fill my ears, and I grab her and pull her into me, curling around her to protect her and the baby. Suzie stops short, frozen between seeing to Iliya and fear for her own safety.
"Run," Iliya manages to gasp, his shirt around his wound already soaked with a dark stain. "Run!"
So we run, pounding down the sidewalk toward the woods at the end of the block.
"Mom! I can't run that fast!" Eliza cries.
"Take Benji." Suzie shoves his leash into my hands and picks up Eliza in one smooth motion. It helps that she's a runner and not currently pregnant.
People are coming out of their houses and onto their lawns, looking to see what's happening.
"Call 911!" I cry as we run past. "Please! Someone’s trying to kill us!"
More gunshots ring out behind us, neighbors scream, and we make it to the end of the street, plunging into the trees. Winter-bare branches whip across my face, leaving the sting of a bleeding cut behind, and I cry out as Suzie slips on a moldering pile of leaves and snowdrift. She catches herself on a tree branch, balancing as she clutches Eliza.
"I'm okay," she pants, and we keep going, bursting out onto another road slick with the freezing rain that’s quickly turning to snow. Benji is panting, pulling me so I have a hard time keeping my feet on the slippery surface.
"Leah! Suzie! Eliza!"
My head snaps up. It's Marius. He emerges from the trees, a dark, solid figure, his face grim. He's carrying a weapon, but it's not pointed at us. He looks... relieved? Concerned? It’s hard to tell in the fading light.
"Marius!" I cry out.
"Oh, thank God!" Suzie gasps, letting Eliza down.
My relief is immediate, overwhelming. He found us. He's here. He's going to save us. But a tiny seed of doubt, a cold, hard kernel of suspicion, begins to sprout in my mind. How did he find us so quickly? So perfectly? He’s supposed to be in New York. Iliya said he came alone.
He reaches us, his eyes scanning us quickly, assessing. "Are you hurt?" he asks, his voice rough with concern.
"No," I manage, my voice hoarse. "Someone shot Iliya at the house."
