She pressed a button, her gaze glued on Grigori, and listened for only a heartbeat, saying, “It’s Ember. Unknown totals of hostiles inbound to our house. Need assistance ASAP.” She hung up without listening or saying anything else, stuffing the cell back in her pocket.
She grabbed Grigori’s hands and pulled, but he had to weigh at least two hundred forty, and all of that solid muscle. He didn’t go far. She started murmuring, desperately, her facial expression turning frantic as she stared down at him, “No. No. No. No. Come on, dammit. Come on.” She put a foot up between his legs on the couch and heaved, her face turning red under the drying blood splatter.
“Shh,” Grigori stated hoarsely. “Get…out. Run.”
“Not happening,” she grunted, her chin trembling as she stared at him. Her face turned red again, grunting low, yanking him. “You’re not going to die. Not dying. Not dying. Not dying.” She kept this mantra up as she put both feet up on the couch, so she was leaning back in the air, and yanked with all her might. And Grigori’s body lifted, and tumbled off the couch, falling right on top of a red-faced Ember.
She groaned under him, her body barely visible under his mass. She managed to crawl out from under him after a lot of grunting and cursing, getting on her knees and—I blinked—quickly rolling him behind the couch, away from any doors or windows. The whole while Grigori growled at her to run, the only word he appeared to be able to say now. She kept telling him to shut the hell up. She popped up behind the couch, putting two guns in the back of her the waistline of her pants, racing over to Zane next, and grabbed his hands, but the sound of cars rolling up in front of the house stopped her.
“Goddammit. Three, at least,” she muttered, her head tilted, listening. She dropped his hands and started lifting his shirt, her hands running around his waist, and pulling a gun free, before she sprinted across the room, straight at my couch. Her hair hung in her face, and her tiny hands started searching Daniil for weapons, pulling a small arsenal out from under his clothing, stashing them anywhere she could on her person.
I managed to puff out a breath, saying, “Ankle.” Oh. My. God! I couldn’t believe how badly it hurt to say just that, not understanding how Grigori had managed. But I had a gun there. Daniil had made me, and I wanted her to take it. She was the only thing keeping us alive at the moment.
“No time,” Ember stated hurriedly, running across the room, hitting the lights, darkness enveloping us. She slammed the huge doors closed behind her.
I heard Ember race up the stairs only moments before the sounds of the front doors crashed open. And what came next, I was really hoping I would never hear again inside my home. It sounded like Ember let a huge group of men enter—I lost track of how many voices I heard, but it was close to thirty—before she opened fire, probably from somewhere up on the balcony that looked over the foyer where they all seemed to congregate.
Some men screamed, but the most I heard was the piercing sound of rapid gunfire volleying back and forth. The doors to our room slammed open, and men threw themselves inside, rolling to a stop. It was as if they were spotlighted from the lights in the foyer, the rest of the room dark. The couches everyone was sitting paralyzed on were back in the deep study, hidden by shadows. They didn’t even look our way as they positioned themselves around the door, all…I counted…five of them, taking their turn returning fire on Ember, aiming high.
I could still make out screams, just as one of the men stepped too far out behind the door, and his throat exploded in a shower of blood, his head falling back on his shoulder blades as he dropped to the ground. I swallowed down the puke that wanted to rise.
The four remaining men all stared at their dead assailant, cursing Daniil’s name, and turned to open fire. Two more went down, even as other gunfire erupted from below.
And I heard it. Ember screamed. Everyone fucking heard it. Even over the gunfire.
Suddenly, there was a hail of bullets from above as the men went silent. I heard thumps and shouts from men, and the return fire made my ears ring. It was so fucking loud.
Just as I was praying Ember was still alive and not bleeding out, a figure raced past us from behind, silent and fluid, hair flying behind the silhouette, knives in hand. It was Ember—and how the hell she got into the room, I had no clue. It had to have been another hidden staircase somewhere in the depths of the room.
She snuck up behind one of the two men, and in one quick motion, placed one hand over his mouth before slitting his throat, the blood spraying in an arch of the spotlight right before she let him drop. The blood hit the other man, and she slammed her knife in his throat, twisting under her arm and wrenching the knife out in a beautiful, lethal move, ripping his throat out before he could scream.
Before he even fell, she was sprinting back through the room, past us, and fifteen seconds later, even before the gunfire ceased in the foyer, it sounded like she was returning fire again from above. It all happened so fast, she appeared an apparition, but the two dead men with blood pooling out of the library told a different story, making her all the more real.
Three new men threw themselves into the room, not even getting up before they turned on their bellies and started firing, rolling to take cover on either side of the door. Only two made it. The bodies were piling up quickly in here, making me wonder how many were lying dead in the foyer or the stairs, where I distantly heard them crashing against the wall after trying to get upstairs to her, only to be mowed down.
Heavy gunfire from above again, with long return fire quickly repeated. And again, she came out of nowhere, rushing past us like a creature of the night.
She killed those two just as easily as the others, but this time, she stopped in her dash back upstairs, right in front of me, dropping and grabbing my ankles, feeling quickly, and lifting my pant leg where my gun was hidden. She took it with one hand, and moved on to Artur, her free hand immediately going to his right pant leg where he kept his gun. She popped up, and raced off into the darkness, the gunfire slowly trickling off…until she opened fire again.
And, like a bad fucking dream, six men dove inside the room, much more efficient, pushing the dead men aside so they could get cleaner shots outside the door.
Only one went down immediately, leaving five. I didn’t hear any more gunfire outside of their volleys with Ember upstairs. She managed to blow one guy's hand off as he randomly stuck his hand out the door to shoot blindly up, and he screamed, dropping, and unfortunately for him, into the light. Ember took him out quickly enough, leaving four. And again, suddenly, lots of fire from above, and the men waited for a break before returning fire all at once.
I figured she would be down any minute since that seemed her game plan.
And she was.
She had slit two throats before the other two noticed her.
They turned, and she fell with her most recent victim, her arm wrapped around his throat, using him as a shield as they raised their weapons and fired. My heart caught as they fired on her, but they only hit the dead man, Ember dropping her knife and grabbing the gun from her ‘shield’ that he had dropped, quickly firing twice, one bullet for each of their heads.
They fell, and she dropped the shield, pushing him away and grabbing guns on the floor, turning her back to the wall next to the door. Even though she was still in shadow, I could see the guns in both of her hands as she stopped, her chest heaving. Her cover was blown. If anyone were downstairs, they would know that someone had fired inside this room, because both men had fallen backward, outside the door.
The silence extended for so long, my ears stopped ringing, and I watched Ember slide down the wall and pick up a dead man’s arm, waving it out into the light, just barely. A single shot fired, and the man’s hand blew off. Ember grunted deep and loud, sounding pretty fucking manly, and slamming a foot against the wall, making a hard thumping sound before twirling away from the spot.
I didn’t understand for a moment as she darted across the room, hiding behind the desk o
pposite us. But I finally got it. She was luring the—evidently—lone man left into the room.
He came to his own execution.
He dove inside, his body automatically turning to where she had made the racket, and Ember fired, her shot as true as before, half his head gone.
Again, silence.
Patiently, she waited.
Time passed, and I began to seriously doubt there was anyone left. Nothing was moving outside those doors. It sounded like the tomb it now was. My eyes darted to where Ember was hiding. She was one scary motherfucker. I had known that before, but this was a different side of her. The physical, lethal one, she rarely ever showed anyone but Grigori.
Abruptly, the sound of two cars pulled up.
Jesus. Could it seriously get any fucking worse?
The sound of slamming doors could be heard outside since the front doors had to still be open, then there was nothing for a few minutes as we waited in silence.
“Ember?” Zane shouted into the quiet from what sounded like outside. “Stash called. Don’t shoot.”
Ember slowly stood from the deep shadows she had been hiding in, gun aimed at the door. Still, I could only make out her silhouette as she stated loudly, “Be careful. I’m not positive I got all of them. One at a time in through the front door. Turn to the right.”
Unexpectedly, a man popped around the doorframe, and Ember shot him immediately in the head, but he had also fired simultaneously. Ember’s body slammed back against shelves, a shout erupted from her. Her arms dropped, and she slid down the shelving back into the shadows.
“Fuck!” Zane shouted from outside.
I didn’t hear anything for a second, my gaze darting back and forth between the door and the shadows, wishing Ember would pop the fuck back up. But she didn’t. Not even when Zane raced into the dark room, his hands fumbling for the light switch, but he kept stumbling over the dead bodies. I visibly saw him shiver before stopping in his tracks and breathe deeply, going slower until he found the button on the wall without falling.
Light slammed into my eyes, and I blinked at him, that movement even hurting, seeing his startled face as he saw all of us just sitting there peacefully and silently, as he stood in a mass of dead bodies. Instinct had him raising his weapon. He muttered, “What the fuck?” He yanked his gun up as other members of Lion Security entered the room. He shouted, “Ember?” His gaze was confused as hell, his eyes scanning everywhere.
None of us could tell him that Ember had fallen behind the desk. I couldn’t see her from here, and I doubted anyone else could either. Zane ordered Cole, who stopped next to him, “Start searching for her.” Then he ran over to Daniil. “What the fuck’s going on?”
Daniil stared up at him, managing to say, “Ember…desk.”
Zane stilled, staring down at him. He had to be confused as fuck.
Daniil gasped, “Desk!”
“Okay. Okay.” Zane holstered his weapon and turned toward Cole who had ordered everyone back out of the room to search the house. “Check the desk.”
He blinked at him before nodding, staring wide-eyed at the people sitting calmly on the couches, more than a little dazed before he moved over to the desk, stopping in his tracks. “Jesus fucking Christ. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” He was shaking his head, staring behind the desk, stepping back from it, tripping over the assassin’s corpse on the floor.
My heart plummeted.
No. She couldn’t be dead.
No. No fucking way. Not Ember.
I felt tears well in my eyes, and I made myself blink them away, so I could fucking see.
Zane’s face went white, but he sprinted across the room, coming to a dead stop next to Cole, staring down. He choked, covering his mouth. “Oh, God.”
The silence extended on our group, enough that I heard Grigori muttering from behind the couch, “No...No…No...No…” It had to hurt like hell, but he kept saying it over and over, his voice absolutely pain filled, evidently getting the gist of the conversation from just listening.
I kept blinking, keeping the tears at bay.
And suddenly, a soft feminine moan filled the room along with Grigori’s mantra.
Zane and Cole stilled, their jaws dropping, staring down.
Grigori instantly stopped, shouting—as much as he could, “Ember?” I was surprised he didn’t pass out from that.
A groan. “Fuck, that hurt.” Ember’s sweet, soft voice filled the room.
“Help…her…” Grigori wheezed a shout.
Zane and Cole started, looking like they jolted awake as they stumbled forward, racing toward her. They dipped behind the desk, and suddenly, Ember was cursing, “Get the fuck away from me. Goddamn it, that hurts!”
There was a grunt, and first Zane’s body flew back, reappearing past the desk, and then Cole’s right next to him, both of them, rolling to their feet, glaring down at her. Cole muttered, “That was fucking cheap.”
“Fuck you. Stay away,” Ember growled, a bloody hand slamming down on the desk. A dark black head of hair lifted from behind the desk as grunts ensued. “Cole, go make sure the house is clear. Zane, go check that woman’s cleavage for a vial. I saw one there. I bet it’s the antidote. Those names are hard to pronounce and easily mistaken for another, so call Stash and spell it out for him, and ask him what will counteract it. Everyone over there’s been drugged.” They didn’t move, still staring down at her with wide eyes, and she shouted, “Fucking do it!”
“Are you going to live?” Cole asked calmly.
“I’m not going to die right now, dammit.”
He nodded and left the room, taking her at her word.
Zane stared a moment more before jutting into action, kneeling next to the dead woman, but my gaze was stuck on Ember’s head. I couldn’t figure out why her hair was black. Her bloody fingers gripped the table, digging in as she pulled herself up more…and I almost puked. I had to swallow hard to keep it down.
The black made sense now.
She stood up, and wobbled, grabbing the desk with one hand, the same hand, while the other dangled next to her side. I guessed she was shot in the arm or shoulder, but I couldn’t tell where. There was no way of telling as she was.
She looked like she had been dunked in a vat of blood. From head to toe, she was covered, and I was pretty sure there were bits of flesh clinging to her once neon green shirt, now with holes and a red-brown color from the men she had knifed. Her eyes shown like stars out of a bloody night sky as she blinked, the stars twinkling as she wavered on her feet again.
Zane was on the phone, putting it on speaker. Stash’s voice was frantic as he explained what they had walked into and everyone being drugged.
“I’m on my way home. I’ll be there in an hour.” He stopped. “Ember was coherent. She wasn’t drugged.” Stash paused over the line, before shouting, “Well? Is she all right?” He wasn’t giving him much time to speak.
Zane paused, staring up at Ember. “She’s alive.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He cleared his throat. “She wants me to explain about the drug…” He overrode Stash’s digging questions, explaining the drug.
Ember began moving, walking like a drunken woman, her blinking eyes almost hypnotizing on her monstrous face. She stopped, leaning against the wall as Zane turned the phone off, hanging up on Stash mid-rant about Ember, and jumping to his feet.
He watched Ember warily. “I’ll be back in a second.”
The phone started ringing, and Zane ignored it, racing out of the room. I couldn’t track where he went because there were too many other employees moving around the house.
Ember blinked at the phone that kept ringing.
Then it stopped. Only to start ringing again.
She sighed, and lifted off the wall, a little grunt of pain making its way past her clenched teeth before she steadied herself, and walked over to where the phone was. She bent over to pick it up, but collapsed on her knees, her head on the ground as she g
roaned, blindly grabbing for the phone.
It rang again, and she stopped groping wildly, and uncannily grabbed it, pressed the button. “Yes, Mommy Stash. I’m fine.”
Jesus. She was so not fine.
She listened, mumbling, “Just need a shower. That’s all. See ya soon.” She hung up.
When it rang again, she groaned, and dropped it on the ground, pushing herself up with her good arm, and sat on her knees. Ember teetered back and forth. She put her hand behind her back, and suddenly, there was a knife stabbed through the phone, embedded into the wooden floor. The phone stopped ringing.
Ember grinned.
Scary. As. Fuck.
“Ember…come…here…” Grigori murmured into the quiet, sans the ringing—now dead—phone.
Ember blinked and teetered more. Her head turned to where he lay behind the couch, and she lifted her obviously good arm and blinked at it, then down at her shirt, pulling it off her skin where it had suctioned.
She stared at the soaking material, stating, “Now’s probably not the best time, Grigori.”
“Ember!” Grigori ordered in a hoarse shout.
“Grigori,” she muttered in a deep voice, imitating him. She swayed, stating in a strong voice, “I’m good. No biggie. I’ll take care of myself once Zane gets you guys going.” She slumped, and barely caught herself. “I don’t know how well everyone’s searching the house. There were a lot of those motherfuckers. Can’t leave you unattended.”
She blinked, her head tilting up, looking behind us. “Speak of the devil.”
Rapidly, she reached behind her back and aimed a gun over our heads. Firing, and shouting at the same time, as her body flew back from a second shot fired from behind us. I saw it in slow motion as she fell, blood flying out behind her, looking like she got hit in the same bum arm, before she toppled on it, shrieking.
Unable to do anything, I watched as a redheaded brute stumbled past us. He cursed her, holding his right arm as blood rolled down it. He stood over her, switching the gun to his left hand. She moaned under him, rolling.
Obsidian Music (Lion Security Book 3) Page 7
