“Then, how do you know Myra?”
He flexes his jaw as his eyes twist with memory. “She dug me out of that hole.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s the one who put me in it,” he says, his voice cracking. “I laid in that grave for who knows how long, praying to anyone who would hear me and gasping for air. All the while, I heard her laughing above me, chanting at me to last just a little while longer and I did. I survived within an inch of death and she’s spent the last five years holding the life she granted me over my head.”
My grip loosens. “How?”
“By forcing me to work for her,” he answers. “Odd jobs, here and there. Tracking down rogue agents and… civilians. Anyone she wanted without much of an explanation.” His eyes fill with regret. “Innocent people…”
I swallow to wet my dry throat. “Is that true?”
“I’ve no reason to lie to you.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
He deflates. “Never because I wanted to.”
Nausea wrecks my gut. I have no reason to feel badly about that, but it still burns.
“Lilah…” He looks at the gun between us and lowers his hands. “Do it.”
I blink. “What?”
“If this will make you happy… do it,” he says. “At least, then, I would have done something decent with my life.”
I put a bit of pressure on the trigger, but my hand locks up. My eyes shake with tears. My ankles sway beneath me. I struggle to remain upright as I stare back at him, feeling my nerves twist into knots.
I can’t do it.
I can’t kill him.
He lunges forward, knocking the gun out of the way to cup my face and kiss me. The gun slips from my grasp and clatters to the floor. The sound echoes throughout the dark stairwell and I lose myself completely in his embrace.
I kiss him back, falling into his strong hold as he pulls me against him.
Archer breaks our kiss, sliding his mouth along my cheekbone. His lips press against my ear and he speaks, his voice so low I can barely make it out.
“She’s listening.”
I lean back as he reaches down and pulls my red blouse up to my navel. He holds a stiff finger against my skin, making eye contact with me as he slowly traces along the black cobra tail. I look down his shirt. He nods as he points to the button between his pecs.
He’s wired.
Myra is here.
She could have agents stationed anywhere in this building. If she catches one peek at Dante, he may never see Lucy again. Maybe she already has and it’s too late to warn him...
I have to get upstairs.
I hold two fingers up and point them at my eyes, silently asking if she’s watching as well. He shakes his head and taps one ear.
Audio only. That works for me.
I grip the edge of his jacket and pull him in for another kiss. We don’t hold back. Our lips smack together. We moan and groan. His hands run amok on me, sliding all the way down to silently pick my gun up off the floor and return it to my belt.
Fortunately, this is a performance I can get behind. If anyone thinks to attack me in here while we’re distracted, they’re in for a surprise. We climb one step at a time with wide-open eyes, listening for doors and echoing feet, until we make it to the fifth floor.
I throw open the door and pull Archer with me into the hallway. We move fast, navigating the long corridor until I find room 526. My brothers are on the other side of this door, ready and willing to put a bullet in Archer’s skull, but the plan has officially changed.
Archer could have turned us over to Myra, but he didn’t. He could have walked away with more money than he’d ever dreamed of, but he didn’t. He chose to save me instead.
And I choose to trust him.
I lay my palm on his chest to guide him backward. He nods with curiosity as I slide the keycard into the door. The light flashes from red to green and the lock clicks open.
I roll my hand into a tight fist, laying my thumb along my fingers. It’s a subtle hand gesture, one commonly used among Snake Eyes agents to signify one thing:
Safe.
I push the door open and step inside, leading with my closed fist.
My brothers stare at me across the golden room with wide eyes, their pistols held at their sides.
Dante eyes my fist. “Lil—”
I hold my two fingers to my lips to silence him, making sure to keep my other fist in front as Archer closes the door behind us. I slide the fingers back to my ears, gesturing that we’ve been bugged and Archer points to the button on his shirt.
Elijah moves to grab the pen and notepad off the table in the corner. He hands them to me. I write out a message.
Myra.
Dante points at Archer with his gun but I stand my ground, flexing my fist again in front of me. He lets out an angry sigh and holsters his weapon, casting a hard glare at Archer as he backs down.
I lower my fist and I scratch out another note.
We have to leave. Now.
My brothers nod and head toward the door, eying Archer as they pass him by.
I turn to him and he lays a warm hand on my cheek.
“Go,” he whispers.
I tug his sleeve, urging him to come with us but he shakes his head and snatches the notepad from my hand.
He writes on it and holds it up to me.
I can buy you time.
My heart stalls. If I leave him this way, he’s done for. There’s no way he can explain how we all managed to escape without giving himself up. One wrong move and his cover is blown. One misstep and he’s dead.
I push up onto the tips of my toes, locking our lips and holding him close. He kisses me back with just as much intensity and my senses burn a little brighter.
I whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry.”
He moves back to look at me with a furrowed brow. I ignore the concern in his perfect eyes and spin around, kicking him in the head.
Archer slams against the wall and tumbles to the floor, completely knocked out on impact.
I take one last look at him before turning away and joining my brothers. “Let’s go,” I tell them.
Dante moves quickly down the hall, but Elijah stays behind him with me. He lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder and I give him a silent nod. I can hide emotion from my big brother all day, every day. But never from my twin.
We reach the stairwell and Dante halts in place. He holds up his hand to stop us as the pounding of boots echoes from the stories above. He jumps back but not fast enough to go unnoticed.
A few heads peek out over the railings and they quicken their pace in our direction.
“There they are!”
Dammit.
We all reach for our pistols with trained hands as the first few gunshots pop into the floor in front of us.
“Down! Go!” Dante shouts.
Elijah and I rush the stairs as Dante provides cover, firing multiple shots upward at the agents who dare stick their heads out again.
We cling to the wall, running fast until the door to the third floor swings open and two agents attack us.
I use my forward momentum to kick off the wall and slam a hard fist into one’s throat. He lets out an animalistic choke and falls to his knees while the other agent points his pistol at me. Elijah fires first, killing him instantly, and I waste no time doing the same to the man on his knees in front of me.
Dante grunts in pain above us.
“Dante!” I gasp.
Elijah pulls me back as an agent falls from the story above. He screams all the way down before slamming head-first into the bottom floor.
Dante catches up with a fresh cut above his left eye, but he pushes us forward. We hop over the bodies to continue down. We don’t make it half a floor until the lobby door opens and four more agents in tactical vests come piling in.
“Shit,” I mutter, clenching my teeth as we all spin around.
We go back to the third floor and Elijah slams the doo
r closed behind us.
“There should be another stairwell on the other side,” I say.
Dante nods and the three of us bolt down the corridor. The stairwell door behind opens as we near the elevators and my heart jolts with each trigger pulled.
We all slam our backs to the wall, squeezing into the alcoves by the doors to dodge the bullets.
“On second thought…” I say, poking the elevator call button beside me.
Dante drops to his knees and takes aim down the hall. I plant myself behind him, firing over his head, and we easily take down three agents together.
“Elijah,” I shout. “Flank.”
Elijah turns to watch our backs. I keep an anxious eye on the elevator as two more engage us from the stairway in front.
If Myra just wanted to bring me in, she wouldn’t have brought this many agents to do it. This is overkill. You don’t send this many agents for one job unless you’re expecting a fight.
I guess the Hart family isn’t under suspicion of treason anymore.
This is a Code Black.
“More on this side!” Elijah says.
I look over my shoulder as he fires down the hall at four agents, one of whom is dressed a little differently than the others.
Myra never did like wearing black.
She pokes her head around the corner and makes eye contact with me in her sleeveless, white dress. Her red lips curl as she looks from me to Dante and back again. Vindication crosses her face and my blood boils with rage.
The elevator finally arrives, dinging softly behind me and I sigh with relief. We all back up against the doors and quickly step on as soon as they open.
I pound the key to the lobby, keeping my head down as more bullets pelt against the alcove. “Come on…” I growl, tapping a little harder.
“They’ll beat us down there,” Dante says, checking his clip.
Elijah gasps beside me. “Lilah—!”
I look up to see Myra standing by the closing doors with her pistol pointed inside.
I act on instinct, aiming my gun at her and we pull our triggers at the same time.
My bullet strikes her right shoulder and she stumbles backward as the elevator closes.
I brace myself for pain.
Elijah falls to his knees beside me.
My jaw drops as blood spills down his shirt. “Elijah!”
I grip his arm, but he slips from my grasp. Dante lunges for him and the two of us guide him down to the floor.
Elijah rests his back against the wall with heavy eyes as the color drains from his face.
Dante lays his hand over Elijah’s heart to put pressure on the wound but crimson blood pours from between his fingers.
I check behind him. “There’s no exit wound…”
Elijah groans and slumps a little further down.
“No, no…” I say, cupping his face. “Stay with us, Eli. This is nothing.”
Elijah twitches awake and grabs Dante’s hand. “Get…”
Dante leans in to pick him up. “Elijah, stand up.”
I nod. “Come on—”
But Elijah shakes his head and pulls Dante closer.
“Get her out.”
Dante pauses and stares into his eyes. After a few seconds, he nods and lets go of Elijah’s hand, letting it fall to his side.
“No,” I whisper as my twin closes his eyes. “Elijah? Elijah!”
Dante takes his gun and stands up. “Lilah, we have to go.”
“What are you doing?” I ignore the black hole growing in my gut and shake Elijah again. “Eli…”
The elevator reaches the lobby and Dante plants himself by the doors with his pistol ready.
Elijah slouches even more. I try to pull him back up but gravity weighs heavy on him.
The doors slide open and Dante leans into the corner to dodge the incoming gunfire from the far side of the lobby.
“Lilah, let him go! There’s no time!”
His eyelids don’t move.
His chest doesn’t rise or fall.
My heart breaks.
Oh, god.
No.
Dante grabs my arm. “He’s gone, Lilah.”
“No.” I jerk free. “No, no. He’ll get back up. We always get back up—”
“Lilah! Look at me!” He takes my face in his hands and warm blood wipes along my cheek. “I need you here, okay?”
“We can’t leave him!”
“Get up.” He pulls me to my feet. “It’s what he’d do.”
I push him away. “No—”
He shoves me back against the wall as another round of bullets rain into the elevator. Dante grabs my gun off the floor and forces it into my open palm. Muscle memory latches around the grip. I hold it steady as everything else inside of me spirals out of control.
Dante aims into the lobby, carefully hugging the wall as he fires several rounds toward the bar. He takes a quick step back, grabs my hand, and yanks me out with him. We quickly take cover behind the nearest couches, narrowly dodging a few close hits along the way.
My eyes stay on Elijah and he wakes up.
His eyes flash open. He sits straight up and pulls himself off the floor.
He grabs his gun, rolls out to join us, and we all escape together.
The way it’s always been.
I blink and he’s still in the elevator, slumped over in a pool of blood.
“Lilah!”
I force it all into the back of my mind as the doors slide closed on him. I check how many rounds I have left and slam the clip back in while I tilt my head out.
Four agents remain between us and the entrance and I only have two rounds left. There’s nothing but chairs and catatonic civilians between us and them. Myra and the others are on their way down right now. If we wait to move any longer, we’ll be trapped here.
I push upward and aim across the room, firing high to catch an agent in the throat. Dante does the same and the two agents topple to their knees.
“I only have one left,” I say. “Where’s the car?”
“Out back,” Dante says.
I point across the lobby to the bar. “Go through the kitchen to the parking lot. I’ll clear the rest and meet you out front.”
He hesitates. “Lilah…”
“Go! Now.”
I slide the knife free from my ankle holster.
Dante looks from me to the blade and back again before nodding. “I’ll see you in thirty seconds,” he says.
“Thirty seconds,” I repeat.
I aim up at the golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, squinting hard to make the last bullet count. I fire and we move fast, bolting in opposite directions across the lobby.
The bullet tears through the chain and the chandelier plummets to the floor behind the agents.
It distracts them for a second but that’s all I need.
I rush toward them and launch over their couch, kicking one in the jaw while I tackle the other to the floor. I slide the blade along his neck, digging in deep enough to scrape the bone. As the other agent jolts back up, I flip the knife over in my palm and throw it at him as hard as I can. It plunges into his eye and he slouches over in a twitching heap.
The stairwell doors open across the lobby and a half-dozen more agents rush out.
I bolt for the entrance, throwing open the doors, and running outside as Dante’s car peels around the building. He slows to a crawl and I hop inside, slamming the door behind me as several agents make it to the entrance.
“Keep your head down!” Dante shouts, leaning over and navigating fast through the lot.
Bullets shatter my window, but I’ve already stuck my head between my knees.
I force myself to breathe through the ninety-degree turns and the screeching tires and the wailing car horns.
Eventually, the world goes quiet. City lights disappear behind us. Concrete buildings become trees. Smog blends into fresh air.
I breathe. It’s all I can do.
Dante la
ys a hand on my back. “You can look up now,” he whispers.
I hold my shaking head in my hands.
He’s wrong. I can’t bring myself to look up.
I’m not ready to see an empty backseat yet.
Chapter 20
Archer
Dammit.
No.
I kneel in the elevator next to Elijah and place my fingers against his neck. I feel for his artery, pressing hard and hoping for the faintest pulse, but the bullet tore right through his heart.
He’s dead.
“You told her our little secret.”
Myra stands in the hallway behind me. Agents pass by, gathering bodies and cleaning up after the siege.
Blood trickles down her right shoulder and, for the first time since I met her, she looks nervous. Her white dress is ruined. The color has rubbed off her ruby red lips. She picks at the chipped polish on her thumbnail with gently shaking hands.
“I told her what I had to to keep breathing,” I say. “Can’t blame me for that.”
“That is what you do best.” She holds me with scolding eyes. “You were supposed to keep her at the bar.”
I stand up. “That would have looked suspicious. She saw right through the spiked wineglass.”
“So, she takes you upstairs to a room of her choosing, where you’re ambushed by not one — not two — but three Harts. Lilah knocks you out cold and we show up just in time to keep them putting you down for good?”
I rub my sore neck. “That’s about right, yes.”
She reaches out and yanks the button bug off my shirt. “And I didn’t hear a word of this because…?”
“Hell if I know. It’s your tech.”
She seethes impatience. “I certainly have my work cut out with you, don’t I?”
“I’m a hunter,” I point out. “You didn’t hire me for bloody espionage.”
“And now, she and Dante are gone.”
“You didn’t follow them?”
“We did.”
I smirk. “You lost them?”
“The Harts have been in the organization for a decade. Dante practically invented some of our more modern disappearing techniques.” She sighs. “They’re gone.”
I hide the relief. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.”
“As soon as you find them, yes.” She raises a brow. “Clear your schedule, Archer. You’re going to be very busy for a while.”
Mad Love Page 12
