“Iam.”
He huffed. “I mean—don’t move.”
Oh.
He bobbed a look around the corner.
Crack! Ping!
Even as he shoved backward into her, Kasra felt the bite of tile from the wall next to her eye and jerked away. Heart pounding, she fought a whimper. Rage leaned into the open and fired down the hall.
A response of bullets came from the other end.
“Back! Back!” Even as he uttered the command, he was backtracking, weapon facing forward.
She had seen the men of Roud doing this, and the one behind always faced the other way to be sure nobody came up behind them. But she had no weapon. Still, she should watch … Fingers coiled around his belt, she shifted sideways and squinted through the darkness.
These men are going to die because of me.
The thought stopped her cold. No. she could not let that happen.
Rage bumped into her. “Move,” he hissed.
“They are here for me.” She let her hand slip from his belt. “I should—”
Rage whirled on her, his body a barrier. “You’re smarter than that.”
Defiance flared. “I am smart enough to know that if I do not surrender, you and your men will be killed.”
He bared his teeth. “You give us too little credit and yourself too much.” He caught her shoulder and pitched her down the hall. “Go.”
The manhandling ignited her anger. “I am not—”
His left arm came up, pinning her to the wall. He fired several times, each trigger pull throwing a brief illumination across his intense, focused visage. He was raw, powerful.
Scared yet relieved he had seen the threat her arrogance had missed, she had the good sense not to fight the way he barricaded her. Understood pinning her had not been to demean her, but to protect her. When had anyone done such a thing … for her?
Still eying the passage, he angled his head to her. “Hand,” he demanded.
Embarrassed she’d forgotten to maintain a grip, she flinched. Felt a flare of anger. Obedience had never been one of her virtues, yet her hand found his belt.
“Move,” he ground out even as he was stalking forward.
Wait. Forward? “B–but were they not this way? Should we not go anot—”
“Quiet.” How he charged through this passage … toward the danger, toward the threat … unafraid. A few more steps and he diverted into a room, pulling her in with him. Walked the pitch-black room.
Kasra stood against a wall, unable to see, unsure what was happening. What he was doing in here. Faint green cast its dull glow over his face. He wore a headset as he came toward her. “Put this on.”
She felt something thrust against her and caught it. “What…?”
“Vest. Now.”
Understanding what was in her hand dawned, a bulletproof vest. She did her best to figure it out and finally slid it over her head. Secured the sides. It felt awkward, heavy, and that somehow made her feel safer.
His strong, capable hand closed around hers as he drew it his side, to a hard surface—a vest. “Hold tight. No talking.”
She found a nylon strap on his right side and curled her hand into it.
