“No!”
She wasn’t close enough. Gabe was between her and Nicky, and Ethan was too far to reach. She was too far away. She caught the glint of the pistol rising, pointing straight at Nicky’s heart, and she knew…she knew…
“No!”
Afterward she wasn’t sure whether she’d screamed or not. It must have been only for that one spilt second that he aimed the pistol but it seemed an eternity, a nightmare that went on and on and on.
She couldn’t reach. She couldn’t…
But Ethan—Ethan saw and launched himself through the air, throwing himself between the count’s gun and her son. Gabe was behind Ethan. She couldn’t see…She couldn’t see…
“Nicky!”
The sound of the pistol shot cut across her scream, breaking it off, causing her to catch her breath in horror. And then, before she could see, before she could even react, another shot slammed into the stillness…
He was before her. Gabe was before her…What…what…
In Gabe’s hand was a pistol, cold and gray, lethal, aiming straight before him.
And now she could see. The count sagged where he stood. A bloodred bloom was spreading over his waistcoat. His eyes were wide, astounded, as if he’d been caught unawares…His hand lifted and then fell. His gun clattered to the floor…
There’d been two shots. Two!
“Nicky,” Callie screamed again and tried to shove Gabe aside. He caught her as he’d catch a child and held her.
“Let me…”
“Ethan,” Gabe said urgently and set her aside. She grabbed Nicky, hauled him to her, hugged as if she’d never let him go.
“Did he hit you? Oh God, Nicky, did he hit you?”
“Mama, no…Mama, Mr. Delaney…”
She stared down at Nicky, unable to believe he was really unhurt. But there was nothing. No blood. No hurt.
Mr. Delaney…
Finally she dared look at the other players in this horror.
The count’s still form lay crumpled over the gun, his eyes staring lifelessly up at the ceiling.
Count Anton was dead.Dead.It was over at last. Nicky was alive and Count Anton was dead. And Gabriel was alive.
And Ethan…
“Damn, I wasn’t fast enough,” Gabe was saying, pushing his friend into an armchair and examining his arm in concern. “Damned hero…”
“Just winged me in the shoulder, sir,” Ethan gasped. “Nothin’ serious.”
“Mr. Delaney, you saved my son’s life,” Callie managed, even now unable to believe the nightmare was past. “How can I ever thank you?” Somehow she forced herself to let Nicky go.
Averting her gaze from the count’s lifeless form, she stepped forward and tried to see the damage. “Here…here, let me help you.” She pulled out a tiny lace handkerchief and began to mop up blood. It was completely ineffectual. The blood oozed from between her fingers.
“I’ll be fine, ma’am,” Ethan said, looking an entreaty up at Gabe.
“He’ll be fine,” Gabe reiterated, gently moving her aside. “It’s not even hit muscle by the look of things. Winged is what he’s been. What we need is a pad.” He cast a look of distaste at the floor, at the count. “Callie, my dear, fetch the landlord. We need to get rid of this offal and we need some clean rags.”
“I need to help Eth—” she started.
