On her signal, I run. Leapfrogging over the wall, I sprint through the rose bed, across the cobblestone path and around several dead masked men lying across the lawn, racing toward the high wooden fence that blocks the view of where Ivy and Cassian landed.
We’ve taken too long.
I pray there’s not a pool on the other side.
The wooden gate splinters open at the crack of my shoulder and I stumble into a smooth pavestone patio. Cassian and Ivy are crumpled together on the ground with two masked men hovering over them, guns aimed at their temples.
“NO!”
Pushing off the ground, I lift my leg and slam my knee into the chest of the first man who collides with the second. A gun goes off like the crack of a whip and my blood turns to ice, but there’s no time to check who got shot. We land in a pile and I aim my handgun at the first man’s throat. One pull of the trigger and he’s drowning in his own blood.
I roll to the side, avoiding the second man’s gun, and push up onto one knee, then I launch myself forward and slam my shoulder into his crotch. We fall back as he yells and crash into a patio table that crumbles under our combined weight.
His elbow cracks down between my shoulder blades, but pain doesn’t register.
I claw at his clothes, surging upward and punching him once, twice, three times across the face.
He twists underneath me, grabbing my collar with one hand and shoving his other hand under my chin to try and push me away. As we struggle, his nails claw at my cheek as I press the barrel of my gun.
Three quick shots and his arms fall limply to the side.
Dead.
There’s no time to think.
Back on my feet, panting heavily, I sprint back to Ivy and Cassian. They’re motionless.
Quiet.
I land on my knees next to them, skidding slightly along the pacing stones. Cupping Ivy’s face with both hands, I franticallycheck her over. Other than some cuts and bruises, I don’t see anything resembling a gunshot wound.
“Ivy? Ivy? Wake up, darlin’, wake up. Ivy? Ivy!”
No response.
“Shit. Cassian?”
Cassian isn’t so lucky. Blood spreads through his shirt from a stab wound on his shoulder and one of his thighs, but the rapid pooling of blood underneath him shows something much worse has happened.
“Help me!” I yell, moving over Ivy to Cassian. Rolling him over reveals a gunshot wound to his lower back that I immediately press both hands over. “Someone help me!”
Scorching fire warms my back as the house behind me is consumed with flames. Gunshots become indistinguishable from the crackle and pops of the flames, and sweat beads my temple as blood continues to pump sluggishly against my palm.
“Ivy? Ivy, please wake up. Ivy?”
She’s as silent as the grave and my only relief comes from the subtle rise and fall of her chest. At least she’s breathing.
“Cassian? Don’t you die on me, you son of a bitch. I’m not ready to put up with another Jack, you hear me?”
Cassian doesn’t say a word.
“Ace?” Footsteps thunder down the path, then Raven sprints into view, her curls matted to her face from sweat and smoke. “The ambulance is on its way! Oh, my…” Her expression falls at the sight of Cassian and her lips press into a trembling, thin line. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive,” I gasp. “He’s alive.”
The ambulance arrives four minutes after Raven and Valentina clear up the rest of the assailants. Ivy and Cassian are swiftly loaded inside and swept away under a police patrol to the Empire State Building, where they’ll be set up and treated in the medical wing. The only thing stopping me from following is that there isn’t enough space in the ambulance.
I’d drive to follow, but I need answers.
