I bend the wire with shaking fingers, shaping it the way he taught me—two bends, slight pressure, tilt upward. I feel along the lock, find the tiny lip, and—
Click.
My heart leaps into my throat.
“I did it,” I breathe, barely audible. “Vanda. Baby. We did it.”
She whimpers softly in response.
I ease the door open an inch. Then an inch more.
The shop is dim and quiet. The only noise is the distant metallic clink from my office and two male voices. I recognize the voices almost instantly—it’s the same men from yesterday. The door to my office is wide open so I catch a glimpse of them battling with my safe.
They’re distracted. Good.
With one hand gripping Vanda’s collar, I inch forward slowly. Each footstep feels like a lifetime but the thought of escape keeps me going. The back door is just a few feet away.
“HEY!”
“Grab her!”
“Run,” I whisper, pulling Vanda behind me as I start to sprint.
But she doesn’t stay with me. She jerks out of my grip with a feral growl and launches herself forward.
“Vanda! No!” I cry as she slams into one of the men with full force.
He screams, stumbling back as she latches onto his forearm, her teeth sinking deep. The other lunges for me. I dart to the side, then run.
That’s the only way I can get us help.
I push harder, my heart pounding against my ribs. I hear Vanda snarling behind me, then a man’s strangled shout followed by her whimper. The sound nearly knocks my legs out from under me.
But I don’t stop. I can’t.
I keep aiming for the door—that’s the only way I can help her.
I reach for the door’s handle and it suddenly bursts open. I screech to a halt with a frightened scream but it’s Alexei’s men bursting in with their guns drawn and ready to attack, with Viktor standing behind them like a freaking avenger.
“Natalya!”
He storms inside like a force of nature, his cold, lethal, eyes glazed with murderous intent. There’s no hesitation. No warning. He raises his gun, aims over my shoulder, and—-
BANG.
I gasp as the man chasing me drops behind me, a bullet through his chest, dead before he hits the ground.
My heart slams painfully as I turn, expecting to see the second attacker running. Or fighting. But instead, he’s on the floor, bleeding and whimpering, clutching his leg.
And Vanda…
“Vanda?” I choke, stumbling toward her.
She’s lying still. Too still.
Blood streaks her fur. Her body is curled in on itself, as if the fight wrung every ounce of strength from her.
“Vanda!” My voice breaks, raw and terrified. “Oh God—no, no, no—”
