The knife skittered across the tile with a sharp metallic scrape. Shoppers screamed. Someone dropped a basket. Glass shattered somewhere down the aisle. Three of my guards shoved me backward at the same time, forcing me down behind the cart. My knees hit the floor. The cold tile burned through my skin.
I could hear Connor.
The sound of bodies colliding. Grunts. A wet, animal sound of pain that made my stomach lurch. I tried to crawl forward, but a hand clamped around my arm and yanked me back.
“Stay down,” someone shouted in my ear.
I could smell blood. Copper sharp and unmistakable.
Connor’s voice cut through the chaos, strained and furious. I lifted my head just enough to see him straddling the masked man, his fist coming down again and again. The hood had fallen back. The mask was twisted, half torn free. The assassin’s eyes were wide and glassy with terror now, no longer hunting.
The knife flashed again. A final, desperate attempt to escape the Irish monster.
He was going to hurt Connor!
I screamed the Irishman’s name.
The blade plunged forward. Connor twisted, but not fast enough. The sound it made was wrong. Too dull. Like it stuck. Connor jerked sharply, his breath tearing out of him like something had been ripped loose inside.
“No,” I whispered. Then louder. “No. No. No.”
Liam would never forgive me.
Gunshots exploded.
The sound cracked through the store, deafening. People hit the floor. Shelves rattled. The masked man’s body went rigid beneath Connor. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Blood bloomed across his chest, dark and spreading fast.
He was dead before his head hit the ground.
Everything slowed.
Connor staggered back, one hand pressed to his side. Blood seeped between his fingers, warm and red and horrifying against his shirt. His face had gone grey. Sweat slicked his hair to his forehead.
I shoved free of the guards and crawled to him, my hands shaking so badly I could barely touch him. This was Liam’s most trusted soldier. Maybe even a friend—if monsters were capable of such human connections.
“Connor,” I said. My voice sounded far away. Broken. “Look at me. Please.”
His knees buckled. I caught him, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as he collapsed against me. The weight of him drove the breath from my lungs. Blood soaked into my clothes. It was hot. So very fucking hot.
“Let go of me, cailín,” he said. His voice was rough.
“You’re hurt,” I said. I pressed my hands harder against his side, panic clawing up my throat. “You’re bleeding. You’re bleeding so much.”
He winced. His jaw tightened. “I know. But ya cannottouchme.”
I lurched back, stung by his words. Even to the injured, Liam’s claim held more weight than death itself.
Luckily Finn grabbed Connor, helping him to a bare patch of floor.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second. Someone was shouting orders. My guards formed a tight circle around us. I barely noticed. All I could see was Connor’s face, the way his eyes stayed locked on mine like he was afraid to look away.
Like if he did, he might disappear.
A faithful dog, protecting his master’s treasure.
“Stay with me,” I begged. “Please. Stay with me.”
No one was going to die on my account. Not today!
