Chapter 47
forty-seven
“Everyone, get down,” my father shouts. “Seamus, secure Katherine.”
Marianne is barely fazed by the sudden onslaught of gunfire and smoke. Her grip on my hair tightens even further as she drags me into the kitchen, the gun at my temple again.
“Fucking have to ruin everything, you stupid bitch,” she hurls under her breath. “Lucky that bastard wants you alive, or I’d just stick a bullet in your skull.”
Who wants me alive?
Dread washes through me as I eye the bodies of the kitchen staff. There’s no way Marianne killed them. My heart pounds in my chest, thumping against my ribs.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Is she returning me to Kellan? The scars he left on my body ache at the thought of being at his mercy again. I narrowly avoided being raped by him. I wouldn’t survive him like my mother survived Elias. I’m not that strong.
“Finally. Took you long enough.”
Ugh. I’m trying to decide whether this is a better or worse predicament than I imagined. Bright side, it isn’t Kellan.
Instead, Christian waits for us as we exit the heavy metal door that leads to the alley between the buildings. He’s lounging against the wrought-iron fence that keeps the homeless out at night, looking pleased with himself.
“Things got chatty in there,” Marianne tells him as she shoves me into his waiting arms. “Hopefully, your men are good at pest control.”
Christian smirks. “They’re excellent.”
I snort at that statement.
He glares down at me dispassionately but turns his attention quickly back to Marianne. “Everything has been transferred. There’s a private jet waiting to take you wherever you want to go.”
Marianne nods, her cold eyes shifting to mine. It looks like she wants to say something, but instead she bites her lip and runs off like the coward she is. If she thinks she can hide, she has another thing coming.
“Let’s go,” Christian commands, taking my wrist in a bruising grip.
Fuck that. I’ve learned a lot since my time with him, and I’m not about to be his fucking bitch anymore.
I take a small step back, keeping some distance between us, and twist my arm to the inside before shoving it forward and catching him off guard.
Christian falters, stumbling backward slightly, giving me just enough room to bring my foot up to connect with his groin.
Growling, he pivots at the last second, and my foot catches the inside of his thigh instead. His hand grabs my ankle and pulls. The breath whooshes from my lungs when I hit the concrete, and I struggle to take in air.
“Fucking bitch.” He gets to his feet and towers over me. “Still haven’t learned your fucking lesson.”
“Fuck you.” The words come out slightly croaked, but they get my sentiment across.
Christian laughs cruelly. “Oh, I’m going to, little lamb,” he taunts. “You just wait.”
I plant my feet, wrenching my arm from his grip and swinging my elbow into his chest. He grunts but barely falters.
I stomp hard on his foot, then jab my knee into his midsection.
Pain sparks through my ribs, but he barely blinks.
I hiss in frustration, swinging a wild punch to his jaw—he catches my wrist effortlessly and twists, forcing a grunt out of me.
“You’re strong,” he sneers, shoving me backward. “But not strong enough.”
I spin, kicking at his thigh, catching him off balance for a fraction of a second.
I shove him with all my weight, hitting his shoulder, then lash out with another fist to his stomach.
He doubles slightly, and I dare a triumphant glance—until he grabs me again, one arm like iron around my waist, the other pressing the gun against my temple.
Dread coils tight in my stomach. He’s relentless. Every blow I land only seems to fuel his aggression. My chest heaves, sweat slicking my hair to my forehead, but I refuse to go down without a fight.
Movement behind him catches my attention. A lithe figure clad in black moves stealthily among the shadows. Christian is a fool to be out here by himself with no backup. Not that it matters. No one can stop what’s coming, and God help anyone who tries.
I let out a breathy laugh and wait.
“You think this is funny?” he snaps, his hand coming down to slap me across the face.
Christian never sees it coming. The knife slides across his throat like butter on toast. His eyes bulge from his head, hands clutching at his bleeding throat as he sinks to his knees.
It doesn’t take long for him to bleed out, his body hitting the ground with a cold thump.
“Certainly funny now.”
A gloved hand enters my vision, and I take it, groaning as it assists me to my feet. Shaking my hair from my face, I stare into the azure eyes of my sister.
“You always find yourself in the worst predicaments,” she teases. I scoff and wave my hand dismissively.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say primly. “Unlike you, I’m not some badass ninja.”
“Assassin,” she corrects.
I shrug. “Same thing.” We laugh, the sound pure and untainted, even with Christian’s blood seeping into the cracks of the alley. “What are we going to do about him?”
“Bonfire?” Kenzi suggests. “I read about a lady who roasted marshmallows over the man who tortured her.”
What the fuck? That’s the look I give her.
“Is this a real lady or one of your imaginary friends?” I question. Kenzi shoots me a glare.
“It was in a book I read.”
“So an imaginary friend.”
“Where do you get imaginary from?”
I snort a laugh as we leave Christian’s corpse behind, walking back through the kitchen. Shit. Dad’s going to be pissed that all his kitchen staff are dead. The people who worked here were like family to him and the boys.
“When you were younger, you used to play act with your imaginary friends from the books you read.”
“No, I didn’t,” she denies vehemently.
“Yeah, you did,” I tell her. “Thank God you stopped doing that before Twilight came out. Shit would have gotten weird.”
Kenzi blows out her lips. “Never fucking read Twilight.”
“Say that to the journal decorated in Team Jacob stickers you used to hide under your bed.”
Kenzi shoots me a colorful string of swear words that would have a sailor blushing. “I knew someone read it.”
“Oh, Jacob.” I throw my hand up on my forehead and dramatically swoon. “You can take me like an animal.”
“Gross.” Kenzi sticks her tongue out at me. “I did not say that.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did—”
“Girls!” My father’s voice booms from the bar lobby. “Do you mind having some sense of awareness here? What if there are still hostiles? You two arguing over sparkling vampires would have easily given you away.”
Kenzi and I exchange a contrite look.
“I was just following the assassin.”
Throw her right under the bus.
Kenzi gasps. Drama queen. Ninjas don’t gasp like that.
“Ava got herself snatched again.”
Traitor.
I point my finger in her face. “She knifed someone in the alley.”
“And I’m about to ground both of you.”
That shuts us up.
Not that he could actually ground us, but it would be fun to watch him try.
Kenzi shoots me a sly smile, her eyes sparkling. I had been worried I lost the sister I grew up with. The one who was always full of smiles and sass. Maybe I didn’t lose her.
Maybe there’s hope after all.