Burning Blood

“I can’t let you get hurt. You’re the only thing keeping me from burning alive.” His jaw flexed as his gaze locked onto my mouth. “Without you, I might not survive long enough to get my revenge so...you’re never leaving my sight, and if that means I have to strap you into a hundred ballistic vests and toss you into an armoured box to keep you safe, I’ll do it.”

Whisper huffed as if he agreed.

“If you’re ready?” The closest man checked his watch, the digits glowing red in the night. “The plane is waiting for us.”

“Plane?” I squeaked. “What plane? What about Dillon?”

“Your bodyguard is too late.” Fisting my hand, Lucien jerked me behind him. “Lead the way.”

“You don’t sound unhappy about this,” I snipped, my fingers tingling in his.

“I’m not.” He smiled smugly. “I did warn him he had a couple of hours to find you. He failed.” Ducking a little, he whispered into my ear. “And now, you’re all mine.”

Two men slipped around us, taking up position at our rear.

The two men in front turned to retrace their steps. “Please heed all our orders, and we’ll get you back to the mountains safely.”

My stomach twisted as Lucien jerked me into motion.

I had no say as I was dragged down the stairs and hurried into the chilly night. With Whisper flanking me and Lucien pulling me, I gingerly stepped over the bodies of either dead or unconscious Cinderkeep guards.

Mist ribboned around the hedgerows, sending out ghostly fingers across the grass.

I suddenly understood why this bed and breakfast was named Misty Meadows.

A convoy of black vans appeared from the night, and I wondered—just for a second—if I should run before Lucien could trap me somewhere new.

Because wherever we were going, I doubted Dillon would find me.

Corpses and empty rooms. Blood-soaked towels and my forgotten tatty rucksack.

He’d think I was dead.

And I might end up that way if he ever hunted me down.