Her heart gallops against my chest.
“Brody, what?—”
“No time.” I grasp the back of her head and tuck it down under my arm.
A blast detonates from the south side of the house, shaking the foundation beneath us.
Raining wood splinters through the air as the front door implodes.
Another explosion thunders from the kitchen, rocking the couch at my back.
The smoke from the cannisters envelops us, but I’m still breathing fine.
No gas, then.
Just a distraction.
A symphony of angry, militant footfalls echo through the house.
Mob soldiers swarm with automatic weapons cocked and ready to murder us.
As the room goes hazy, my entire system shifts into overdrive.
I watch as Russian goons circle the living room. Dressed in all black, they point their guns directly at us.
Twelve of them in total.
If they didn’t each have submachine guns, these would be my kind of odds.
Near the giant hole in the wall where the front door used to be, two men step aside. A third man strides between them.
A tall, thick guy with a scarred jaw and deep, black, exacting eyes.
His brown hair’s shaved short, as is his beard. He carries a coldness in his gaze and in his shoulders.
I’ve seen that affect a million times.
The more a person kills, the more they detach from their humanity, and the darker their gaze becomes.
Until nothing’s left but a demonic, chaotic, killing force, fed and satisfied only by more bloodshed.
I’ve always vowed never to become a man like that.
A man who’s gone past the point of no return.
But Andrei Kruschev obviously doesn’t share those worries.
With his men standing at attention, Andrei leisurely approaches us, a mirthless smile spreading his face wide. “We meet again, little king.”
That comment’s directed at me, but I don’t respond. I don’t even move.
Right now, I’m lying on top of Trinity’s body like a human shield. If these Russians plan to take her alive, as I suspect they intend to, they won’t risk shooting me while I’m on top of her because the bullet could pass through.
Which would be a real shame.
“This didn’t have to be so difficult.” Andrei saunters closer, hunching down so he can get in my face. “I understand you made quite a mess of our friends back in Koreatown.”
“Occupational hazard.” I lock eyes with our party crasher, adrenaline pumping through my system.
