Then she smiled and said, “I’ll take the big one.”
Quinn decided the two in the middle were his. He kicked the phone out of Vampire A’s hand, yanked Vampire B’s gun out of his grip and snapped the rifle over his knee before elbowing Vampire A in the head, knocking him unconscious (and leaving him with a skull fracture, most likely).
Vampire B threw a right cross at Quinn’s head, but not fast enough. Quinn ducked and threw a punch of his own to the vampire’s gut. When the bastard doubled over, Quinn brought his knee up into the vampire’s nose.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mischa jump at her vampire, wrap her thighs around his neck, then flip him, ass-over-elbow to the ground, hard. It was a move that, up until then, Quinn had only ever seen Black Widow accomplish. It was all kinds of impressive for a woman who couldn’t be five-foot-two, or weigh more than a 100 pounds soaking wet.
When her opponent hit the ground, Mischa leapt back up and brought her work-booted foot down on the unfortunate vampire’s skull.
Shit, that’d take months to heal.
But he only had a split second to be impressed before another vampire lunged at him. This one fancied himself some kind of martial arts expert, because he threw some kind of fancy kick at Quinn’s head. It was kind of like the crane kick at the end of The Karate Kid.
Quinn had never been a fan of martial arts in a fight. Sure, it worked, and it looked cool. But sometimes it was overkill. This was one of those times.
Quinn caught the vampire’s ankle about an inch or so before the kick would’ve broken his nose, and gave it a good twist over and down. When the vampire was off balance, Quinn drove his elbow down into the back of the vampire’s knee. When he was rolling around on the ground clutching his ruined knee and whining like a baby, Quinn put him out of his misery—temporarily, at least—with a kick to the skull.
A quick glance at Benny proved to Quinn that the halfer was surprisingly adept with a switchblade. The vampire he was fighting was much bigger and much stronger, so when the guy threw a punch, Benny dove low and sliced his Achilles tendon, then jumped back up and kneed him in the face when he fell to the ground.
“That’s five for us,” Mischa said into the com system. “How many for you, wolf boy?”
There were sounds of a scuffle on Lucas’s end, along with cries of pain that didn’t sound like they were coming from either Lucas or Seven, and what sounded like maybe…bones breaking?
“Two for me,” Lucas said when the sounds died down on his end. “And two—oh, nice spinning kick, honey!—make that three for Seven.”
“Even-Steven,” Benny said. “Nice.”
“Not quite,” Nikolai said. “Ten are down right now with my arrows in their skulls.”
Benny frowned at Mischa. “He’s always so showy.”
“Right?” Lucas said. “I’ve never liked that fucking guy.”
“You know I can hear you, right?” Nikolai said.
“Yeah, I’m aware,” Lucas said, somehow managing to convey a shrug with his tone.
Benny sighed. “Come on. We gotta hit the next floor and hope there’s a shit ton of vamps there if we have any hope of beating fucking Daryl Dixon on the roof with his crossbow.”
Quinn raised a brow at him. “If we have any hope of rescuing the hostages—including Marina—you mean, right?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, that too.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Marina glanced up at Davis, noticing his attention wasn’t on her, even though the gun was still pointed at her head. If she was able to move fast enough, she could probably make a grab for it and—
Riddick cleared his throat, drawing her attention. He gave her a sharp look and a barely there shake of his head, telling her without saying a word that going for the gun was a bad idea.
She sighed. She hated doing nothing. She wanted to find Quinn, damn it! What was she going to do if he’d gotten shot—or worse—because of her?
Harper ended her call with Hunter, then glanced at her phone, and hit a couple of buttons before pocketing it. “Anton is being brought to my building downtown as we speak.”
A muscle in Davis’s jaw twitched. “That wasn’t the plan. You were told to have him delivered here.”
Harper snorted. “And take away your only motivation to leave all of these hostages unharmed? I don’t think so, pal.”
He glared at her so hard Marina was surprised the intensity of it didn’t bore a hole right through Harper’s forehead. “What’s to keep me from killing you where you stand?” he hissed.
Harper straightened to her full height and glared back, twice as hard. “You can try. But if I can’t kill you first, you can bet your ass my husband can and will.”
Riddick cracked his knuckles in response and shot Davis a smile so cold Marina shivered.
Davis’s resolve faltered, but he quickly regained his composure, saying, “There are four armed guards in this room. Do you really think your husband or you, for that matter, can kill me before I could kill you?”
“These aren’t even the worst odds we’ve faced this week,” Harper said, enunciating each syllable, firing each word at Davis with sharpshooter precision. “I know we can kill you before you could kill us.”
Faster than she ever could’ve reacted, Davis snagged Marina by the hair and dragged her to his side, pressing the gun to her temple. “But can you kill me before I can kill her?” Davis hissed.
Harper lunged forward, blood in her eyes, but Riddick yanked her back with an arm around the waist.
Marina snapped her eyes shut. This couldn’t be how she died! She didn’t want Haven to grow up without her aunt. Her mother would be devastated. Harper would blame herself. And Quinn…
Damn it, it’d taken her forever to find a good man and she was only getting a week with him because some psycho terrorist was going to put a bullet in her head?
Well, fuck that!
“Marina,” Riddick said, his tone a warning.
She wished she could listen to him, but she couldn’t. She was done being passive in this rescue.
Marina took a deep breath and went completely limp in Davis’s grasp. The sudden extra weight surprised him, and he let her go, allowing her to drop to the ground. When she was on the ground, she grabbed his ankle with one hand and pulled with all her might, while at the same time shoving on his knee with her other hand. He landed flat on his back at her side, losing his grip on the pistol at the same time.
And that’s when everything went a little…sideways.
***
“What the hell was that?” Quinn asked.
Mischa bit down on her lower lip. “Somebody got knocked down. Then…I don’t know.”
Quinn, Mischa, Seven, Lucas, Nikolai, and Benny were huddled together in the stairwell closest to the ballroom, waiting for further instructions from Harper.
It had taken them less than 20 minutes to clear the hotel and grounds. Harper had sent a text a few minutes ago with a few numbers, letting them know the “time” locations where the armed vampires could be found around the ballroom. Apparently, there was an armed vamp at 12, 4, 6, and 10.
And now there were sounds of a scuffle in the ballroom. No shots fired yet, but the sounds of breaking glass, toppling furniture, and panicked shouts could be heard clearly from their vantage point.
“Do we go in?” Seven asked.
Mischa shook her head, but looked unsure. “Harper said to wait.”
Benny spun his switchblade restlessly and shot Mischa a nervous look. “It sounds bad in there, dude. Are you sure?”
Behind the doors a woman screamed, and the sound of it punched through Quinn’s chest and fisted around his heart.
Marina!
“Fuck this,” Quinn muttered before taking off at a run toward the ballroom.
Mischa and Seven yelled something behind him, but he didn’t bother listening. He wasn’t about to wait outside the room like a fucking dog because he’d been given an order. Not when Marina’s li
fe was in danger, especially since it seemed that Harper was no longer in control of the situation.
When he kicked the ballroom door open, what he saw inside stopped him in his tracks.
It was complete and utter chaos. Pure bedlam.
Riddick and Harper had disarmed and were fighting off two vamps, and Gladys swung a silver serving platter like a war club at the head of a third, who was so busy trying to fend off the attack that he seemed to have forgotten he even had a gun.
A small group of hostages had a fourth vampire down on the ground and seemed to be kicking the crap out of him. And the fifth vampire…
Was on top of Marina and had his hands around her throat.
Quinn’s vision hazed over and every lesson Sentry had drilled into his head for years—every instinct he’d tried his hardest to ignore since they disbanded—left him, replaced with only one thought.
Kill.
Chapter Twenty-two
Marina’s plan had been going so well. She’d disarmed Davis, knocked him to the ground, and even managed to elbow him in the face. But then, before she could even think about trying to get away, he’d rallied and pinned her down, wrapping his hands around her neck and squeezing.
Damn it. Riddick had warned her not to make a move. She should’ve listened to him.
And, God, if you’re listening, if you let me live through this, I swear I will do whatever Riddick tells me to do if I ever find myself in a situation like this again.
Marina clawed at Davis’s hands on her throat, but he was too strong. All she could do now was keep fighting for every breath, every little scrap of oxygen that could keep her brain going until she figured out how to get Davis off her.
Davis leaned down and snarled in her ear, “This is your fucking fault. I would’ve let you live, just like the boss told me to, but now? Now I’m going to take great pleasure in watching you die. Slowly.”
Maybe it was oxygen deprivation making her loopy, but wasn’t this the second time she’d heard one of these vampires insinuate that whoever was in charge made it clear that she wasn’t to be killed? Who exactly was in charge of these idiots?
But before she could start piecing the information together in her head, she heard an angry snarl, which was followed by Davis’s weight suddenly and violently being ripped off her body.
Marina sat up, coughing and gasping for breath, just in time to see Quinn holding Davis a few inches off the ground by his neck. Then he tossed him across the room and into the wall so hard that the vampire’s body punched a hole in the sheetrock.
Quinn dropped to his knees at her side and cupped her face in his hands. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she croaked, raising her hands to her neck. “Hurts to talk.”
Quinn’s eyes hardened. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“No, you won’t,” Harper said from behind him.
Marina glanced over Quinn’s shoulder, taking in her sister’s appearance. She had a smudge of blood across her cheek, the knuckles on one of her hands were broken and bleeding, and most of her curls had escaped her ponytail, but the relief in her eyes made Marina feel better than she had since this whole mess had started. The worst was over now.
“The hell I won’t,” Quinn muttered.
“You won’t,” Harper said, “because Hunter’s sending Council members to pick all of these idiots up. Hunter wants to figure out who they are, who they’re working for, and why they needed Anton out of Midvale.” Then she shifted her glance to her sister. “You okay, Sis?”
Marina smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up. “Peachy keen, jelly bean,” she croaked out the silly saying that used to crack Harper up when she was a little girl.
Harper chuckled. “You’re such a nerd. OK, Quinn, can you get my sister out of here? The rest of us will stick around and make sure all the hostages are safe and that the vamps are rounded up for when Hunter’s guys get here. Then we’re going to go talk to this Anton guy and figure out what’s so important about him that vampire mercs got involved in this whole mess.”
Quinn’s eyes never left Marina’s as he stood and pulled her to her feet in front of him. “My pleasure.”
“Betcha ten bucks he kisses her,” Lucas said from the ballroom doorway.
Benny shook his head. “No way. Not with Harper looking. He’ll wait until they get in the car.”
“You’re on,” Lucas said, then shook Benny’s hand.
Mischa rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to think you have a gambling problem, Lucas.”
“Hey, you gotta do something to keep these little missions interesting. They’re entirely too easy lately.”
Quinn would later remember that moment as the one where Lucas jinxed him by saying working for Harper Hall was easy.
“Gun!” Seven shouted.
Davis had staggered to his feet, recovered his rifle, and was aiming it right at Marina and Harper.
Riddick dove on top of Harper, while Lucas and Benny and Nikolai shielded the hostages who were between Davis and Marina.
Seven kicked out and caught Davis’s wrist, snapping it neatly and knocking the gun out of his now-limp fingers. But not before the bastard managed to get a shot off.
Quinn shoved Marina behind him and to the ground. His adrenaline was running so high he barely felt the bullet rip into his chest. But he knew that Marina’s scream would haunt him as long as he lived.
Even if that was only for a few more minutes.
***
“He took two bullets tonight—one to the chest, an inch north of his heart, and another to the side. But both were clean shots, and even though he lost a lot of blood, with his dhampyre healing ability, I have no doubt he’s going to make a full recovery very quickly.”
Marina couldn’t seem to stop herself from grabbing the harried-looking ER doctor with the thick-framed glasses and the wrinkled scrubs and pulling him into a bone-crunching hug. “Thank you so much,” she whispered, fighting back tears.
Watching Quinn take the bullet that had been intended for her was without a doubt the worst moment of Marina’s life. Until the moment in the ambulance on the way to hospital when he’d passed out and she’d thought he was dying, that is.
Harper put her arm around Marina’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze before asking the doctor, “Can we see him?”
The doctor glanced nervously at their entire motley crew, which had taken over pretty much every seat in the ER waiting room.
Benny was sprawled in a chair by the vending machine, flipping through what looked to be a decade-old copy of Highlights. Mischa and Lucas sat at a little round table and appeared to be arm wrestling. Marina had no doubt a bet or a dare was somehow involved. And Riddick was passed out in a chair next to Benny with his head tipped back against the wall.
Marina could have made it through her whole life without knowing that her brother-in-law snored like a congested grizzly.
Only Nikolai and Seven were missing. Nikolai had gone home to check on his pregnant wife, and Seven was in the cafeteria getting everyone coffee.
“Um,” the doctor began, “we have him on lots of pain meds. He’ll probably be more than a little loopy. But one of you is more than welcome to visit with him for an hour or so. Then he’ll need his rest.”
Harper and Marina thanked him as he scurried off to check on his other patients. Harper nudged Marina’s shoulder. “You go ahead. Tell him thanks for me. He did a good job tonight.”
Marina nodded. “I will. And, Harper, I’m sorry.”
She cocked her head to one side. “For what?”
“For attacking Davis like that. I should’ve known you had everything under control.”
“Nah, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Harper said, smiling. “You did great. Now, get in there and see your man. I’m sure he’s dying to talk to you. He was a mess when you were taken. I could hear the panic in his voice when he called. I thought I’d have to shoot him in the leg to keep him from charging in blind to rescue you.”
<
br /> Hearing that made Marina feel warm all over, which reminded her of the conversation they’d had before their evening had fallen to shit. Which brought to mind what they’d done in the bathroom after that conversation…
Harper yanked her hand off Marina’s shoulder and grimaced. “Wow. Whoa. Too much information. Psychic here, remember? Try to keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself, m’kay?”
Marina probably would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t so tired. As it stood, she could barely work up the energy to blush as she pulled her sister into one last hug before heading into Quinn’s room.
He was sitting up in his hospital bed with a few pillows behind his head and an IV in his arm. A giant white bandage peeked out the top of his hospital gown. He rolled his head in her direction as she approached the bed and gave her sleepy smile.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting gingerly down on the side of the bed, doing her best not to jostle him or cause him any pain.
He grabbed her hand and attempted to raise it to his lips for a kiss, but missed and ended up swatting himself in the forehead with her wrist. But he didn’t seem to notice as he slurred, “I feel great. I have this morphine drip, and it’s awesome. Have you ever had a morphine drip? Drip.” He paused, frowning. “Have you ever noticed what a weird word that is? Drip. Drip. Drip.”
She couldn’t hold back a little giggle. “How much morphine did they give you?”
“A fuck ton, best I can tell.”
“I guess so.”
He grabbed her hand again and placed it on his cheek. “You know,” he began conspiratorially, “I really like you. I’m actually kind of obsessed with you, Marina Petrocelli.”
Only he was too doped up to pronounce her last name correctly and it came out more like Pemfrotelli. But it was the sentiment that counted. “I really like you, too, Quinn Connell. And the obsession is mutual.”
“When I get out of here,” he said, “I want to take you somewhere. Dinner. A fancy one. Like normal people do. I can’t think of what you call that…when someone wants to take you somewhere and prob’ly have sex with you afterwards.”
Semi-Obsessed Page 11
