The window exploded inward.
Glass shattered across the floor as four figures in dark clothing crashed through. Their faces were covered, only their eyes visible through black masks, but they weren't Shedun. They didn't have the black kohl painted around their eyes. In the aurora light, I caught the glint of steel—knives, not guns.
Thank Elurion for small mercies.
One of them headed straight for Kailin. The other three came at me.
Training took over. I raised my weapon, but they were already too close, inside the gun's effective range, before I could get a clean shot.
Then they were on me.
I used the gun as a club, cracking it against the temple of the first attacker. He staggered, and I kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling into a desk. Books and papers scattered. Kailin's charcoals and sketchbooks tumbled to the floor.
The second attacker slashed at me with his knife. I twisted away, feeling the blade whistle past my ribs. Too close. The room was too small for this kind of fight, too much furniture in the way, no space to maneuver properly.
Behind me, I heard Kailin's sharp intake of breath and the clash of steel on steel. She was fighting, but the sleeping draught was probably making her sluggish. I wanted to look, wanted to make sure she was all right, but I couldn't take my eyes off the three men trying to kill me.
One of them grabbed my wrist, trying to force the gun from my hand. I drove my knee into his gut, felt him fold, and broke free. But the upturned desk was between Kailin and me, the attackers herding me away from her.
The first one recovered, rejoining the fight.
They were trained and competent enough to be dangerous. Not Shedun warriors.
Elusitor converts?
A blade caught my shoulder, slicing through my nightshirt into flesh. Pain flared hot, but I didn't let it distract me. I used the momentum to spin, slamming my elbow into my attacker's face. Something crunched. He stumbled back.
Furniture crashed as we fought. A chair splintered when one of them slammed into it. Kailin's easel went over with a clatter, her half-finished painting of the mountains destroyed beneath someone's boot.
I couldn't think about that. Couldn't think about anything except survive, strike, and defend.
One of them got behind me, arm snaking around my throat. I grabbed his wrist, twisted, and used his own momentum to flip him over my shoulder. He hit the floor hard but rolled away before I could follow.
That's when I heard Kailin cry out.
I risked a glance.
She'd wounded her attacker, blood was darkening his sleeve, but she was struggling, fighting on instinct and stubbornness alone.
Her attacker dodged her blade and grabbed her wrist, twisting until her knife clattered to the floor. Then his arm was around her throat from behind, squeezing.
A chokehold.
Kailin's eyes went wide with panic, her fingers clawing at his arm. But he was bigger, stronger, and he had the position. I saw the intent in his body language, the way he was positioning his grip.
He was going to snap her neck.
Everything slowed down, time stretching like sap.
I brought my gun up. The angle was terrible, Kailin partly blocking my shot, her attacker's head barely visible behind hers. Just the slightest bit off and I'd hit her instead.
But if I didn't shoot, she'd be dead in seconds.
I could make the shot. I had to.
Breathe, aim, the moment between heartbeats when the body is still.
I fired.
