Rosa’s assailant licks his lips, staring at that golden-skinned V, and my stomach twists with sick horror.
Are they planning to rape us?
Kill us?
“Where’s the old man?” Nora’s captor asks as I resume my panicked struggles, and I realize something about him looks familiar, as if we’ve met before.
“He went to check out that small building nearby. Said something about wanting to look for his family,” my assailant says, restraining me. “Here, bring me some duct tape. This one’s getting feisty,” he adds, grunting, as I smash my elbow into his ribcage.
“Just knock the bitch out,” the asshole who hit Rosa advises, but he brings over the tape anyway. I only have time to let out one short-lived scream before a rag is shoved into my mouth, and the sticky tape is slapped over it.
“That’s better,” my captor mutters, grabbing my arms. “Now do her wrists too.”
The other man is about to obey when Lizzie wakes up with a cry.
“Shit. Silence that kid,” Nora’s captor orders as the baby, upset at being held by an unfamiliar man, begins to wail at full volume.
Nora’s face turns even whiter, her eyes burning like coals as Rosa’s assailant heads over and glues the duct tape across the baby’s tiny mouth, muffling her outraged screams.
If looks could kill, he would’ve been eviscerated on the spot.
“Go find Henderson,” Nora’s captor says to Rosa’s assailant. “We’ll meet you both downstairs.”
The man obeys, exiting the room as I reel from the revelation.
Henderson?
Of course. That’s what this is about.
Like a cornered rat, Peter’s enemy has gone on the attack.
I’m still digesting the implications when a flash of blond hair in the doorway catches my gaze.
My heartbeat jumps.
I’d forgotten all about Yulia.
They haven’t found her, but she was in the room next to mine.
I have only a millisecond to process her half-naked appearance—and the gun in her hand—because in the next instant, all hell breaks loose.
Smoothly, without any hesitation, Yulia fires at Nora’s captor, getting him in the face.
Then she aims the gun at mine.
Time seems to slow, the moment stretching into eternity. I see the fierce concentration in her blue eyes, feel the sudden tension in the hands gripping my arms from behind, and the little bit I remember from Peter’s self-defense training kicks in.
Lifting my legs off the floor, I become dead weight in my captor’s hold, causing my head to drop by a foot—and as Yulia’s gun spits out the bullet, I feel a warm spray of blood as another person’s head explodes above mine.
My butt hits the floor, my tailbone screaming at the impact as my captor’s body drops behind me.
Yulia’s already moving again, aiming at the man holding Lizzie, but there’s no need.
He’s already crumpling to the floor, Nora’s attacker’s knife buried in his throat—and the baby clasped safely in her mother’s arms.
Did Nora snatch her daughter as she killed him?
Holy fuck, she’s fast.
Fighting off my shock, I scramble to my feet, tearing at the duct tape covering my mouth. “The fourth man,” I gasp out. “He’s—”
“Dead or knocked out,” Yulia says, lowering her gun. “I bashed his brains out in the hallway.” Her composure is startling—until I remember that she used to be a spy.
I’m about to bring up Henderson when I spot another flash of movement in the doorway.
“Yulia!” I scream, launching forward, but it’s too late.
A black-clad arm snakes around her throat with lighting speed, and a gun presses to her temple.
“Not so fast,” the older man says softly, using Yulia as a shield as he steps into the room. “Move a muscle, and she dies.”
97
Peter
“Why are your fucking guards so slow?” I bark at Esguerra as he furiously types on his laptop—presumably issuing orders to said guards. “It’s already been two minutes. Do you know what can happen in two minutes? They’re in that house, alone, unprotected—”
“I know!” Esguerra roars. A vein pulses in his forehead as he slams the laptop shut and jerks to his feet. “You don’t think I fucking know? They’re on their way, driving as fast as they can. The two guards on house patrol aren’t responding; whoever’s messing with the cameras and the cell signal must’ve already offed them.”
Fuck. I want to slam my fist into the wall, but it’s too dangerous with all the controls in the pilot’s cabin. “Are you sure they’re still in the house?”
“I know Nora is,” Esguerra snaps. “I have tracking implants in her, remember? As of two seconds ago, she was alive and in our room.”
Shit. He’s right—I forgot about those trackers for a moment. If Nora is alive, then hopefully, Sara is too—which makes it all the more imperative that the guards hurry.
“It’s got to be Henderson,” Kent says harshly, his knuckles white on the controls. “That fucking bitch lured us out, so he could attack.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Yan says, and I realize he’s joined us in the cockpit. His green gaze swings to Esguerra. “Couldn’t it be some other enemy of yours?”