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Green and Cho exchanged a brief look of acknowledgment. “Yes, Master,” Green replied, ending the call.
Cho steered into a sharp left turn off the road and into a parking lot at the water. Large freight trailers and assorted box trucks dotted the ice-spotted, cracked pavement. And nearer to the river’s edge were several warehouse buildings, which is where Cho seemed to be heading at breakneck speed.
Green leveled the gun on her, until she was staring down the barrel at the chambered bullet that would soon be unloaded into her head. She felt a surge of power flow into her veins—something far more intense than adrenaline—as the moment began to play out in slow motion.
Green’s finger tightened on the trigger. There was a soft scrape of responding steel, mechanisms in the firearm clicking into action as though in the thick fog of a dream.
Je
She ducked out of its way. She didn’t know how she managed it, nor how it was possible for her to know just how to dodge the bullet as Green sent it blasting toward her. She knew only to listen to her instincts, preternatural as they seemed.
She came up behind Green’s seat and wrenched his arm, snapping the bone in her bare hands. He screamed in agony. The gun went off again, this time a flailing, wild shot.
It struck Cho in the side of his skull, killing him instantly.
The sedan veered and rocked, accelerating with the dead weight of Cho’s foot resting on the gas. They hit the corner of a rusted freight container, knocking the Crown Vic into a vicious sideways roll across the snow and ice.
Je
Holy bloody hell.
Brock pulled in to the industrial lot and slammed on the brakes, watching with a mix of horror and rage as the Crown Victoria hit the side of a cargo trailer and pitched into a steel-crushing roll on the frozen pavement.
“Je
The daylight had been a bitch to deal with inside the vehicle; outside it was beyond hellish. He could hardly see through the haze of blinding white light as he raced across ice and cracked asphalt to the overturned sedan. The car’s wheels were still spi
As he neared, he heard Je
“Je
Ah, Christ.
Blood and gore were everywhere, the stench of dead red cells combining with the sharp fumes of leaking oil and gasoline to pierce through the sun-scorched fog of his senses. He looked past the corpse of the driver, whose head was blown open by a close-range gunshot wound. All of Brock’s focus was trained on Je
The roof of the sedan was buckled and smashed, creating only a small amount of room for her and the other human male, who was struggling to get a grip on her legs. She was fighting him off with one foot while attempting to claw her way out of the nearest window. The human gave up as soon as his flat gaze slid to Brock. Releasing Je
“Minion,” Brock snarled, hatred for the soulless mind slave making his blood boil even hotter with fury.
These two men were definitely Dragos’s loyal hounds. Bled by him to within an inch of their lives, they would serve Dragos in whatever capacity he required, obedient to their dying breath. Brock wanted to speed the escaping human to that final moment personally. Kill him with his bare hands.
He damn well would, but not until he made sure Je
“Are you okay?” he asked her, stripping off his leather gloves with his teeth and tossing them aside so he could touch her. He smoothed his fingers over her pale, pretty face, then reached down to catch her under the arms. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
She shook her head vigorously. “I’m fine, but my leg is pi
“I know,” he said. “He’s a Minion, and he doesn’t matter. But you do. Hold on to me, baby. I’m go
Something metallic popped outside the car. The loud ping echoed sharply, then another one sounded, and still another.
Bullets.
Je
Brock didn’t answer. He knew the Minion wasn’t trying to hit them through all that metal and machinery. He was firing on the car itself.
Trying to create the spark that would ignite the exposed gas tank.
“Hold on to me,” he told her, bracing one hand against her spine as he reached with the other for the crushed seats that had Je
“I’m out,” she said, already scrabbling free.
Another bullet struck the car. Brock heard an u
“Come on!” he said, grabbing Je
He pulled her clear of the vehicle, both of them tumbling out to the pavement. A plume of fire erupted from the overturned car as the gas tank exploded, shaking the earth beneath them. The Minion kept firing, bullets zinging dangerously close.
Brock covered Je
“Shit,” he hissed, wiping a hand across his eyes, straining to see through the agony of his scorched vision. Je
But she didn’t stay down. She took the pistol out of his hand and opened fire, a rapid hail of bullets that cracked loudly over the roar of flames and heated metal beside them. Across the lot, the Minion cried out sharply, then went utterly silent.
“Gotcha, you son of a bitch,” Je
Brock ran with her, hand in hand across the open lot, toward the Rover. As much as his pride wanted him to argue that he was good to drive, he knew he was too cooked to even attempt it. Je
“Hang on,” Je
She seemed unfazed by the whole thing, cool and collected, the total professional. And damn if he’d ever seen anything so hot in all his years. Brock lay back against the cool leather of the seat, grateful as hell to have her on his side as she stomped on the gas pedal and floored it away from the scene.