The day was quickly waning. I walked around the property despite the fact that two operatives from the Memphis office had escorted Truesdale and Neri to the cabin, and both were stationed outside to watch for trouble. I simply needed to know for myself that everything was clear.

Jack had gone back to Ellaville to soothe his wife’s nerves. I couldn’t blame him. I’m not sure I would have even left her in the first place.

Malaika, Truesdale, and Neri were still deep in numbers and codes in the living room, deciphering and rewriting the ledgers Truesdale had kept for more than five years. Five years. I couldn’t believe that this had been going on for so long, and no one had noticed. The Guardians hadn’t shown up until two years ago. That meant that whoever, or whatever, was behind all of this had a big end game coming up. And it was probably coming soon.

Jack thought it was an attempt to turn Ellaville into some sort of religious oasis. That the man behind all this wanted to rid the town of all the non-believers and welcome only those who were members of the church.

That seemed plausible. Even the buying up of all the land on the outskirts of town fit that plan. But there were problems with it, too. Like the violence. Wasn’t that inviting scrutiny? Wasn’t that bringing more of that unwanted element into town rather than getting rid of it?

And what about the trials that were coming up? Jack had led a raid on the Guardians’ compound months ago, taking down who we thought was their leader and several of his lieutenants. They were all due to go on trial at the end of the year. Wouldn’t that bring too much of a spotlight on Ellaville for some sort of religious oasis to work?

I thought whoever was behind this liked the attention. I thought bringing the violence, the trials, was just what this person wanted. He wanted outsiders to swoop in on the city. He wanted the chaos.

But why?

I couldn’t imagine, but I had this thought…what if it wasn’t about the church at all? What if the church was just a good disguise until this person’s true intentions were finally revealed? Was it possible that someone was just trying to cause chaos to distract us? Like a magician catching our attention with a card or a hat, taking our attention from his hands or the item hidden in his sleeve? Was it possible the Guardians were just a ploy, and the truth was actually in these ledgers, in the financial transactions that had been going on in secret right under everyone’s noses, and that were the real game here?

What if none of this had anything to do with the Guardians?

I came around the back corner of the house and, like the night before, caught sight of Malaika through the windows. This time she was in the living room, still on the floor where she’d been all day. She was handing something to Neri, speaking quickly from the looks of it. She was excited, color in her cheeks and her eyes bright. I liked to see her like that.

I wondered what her mother and father would think if they could see her like this. Would they still think she was a mistake? An inconvenience? Or would they see the beautiful human being they’d created?

I was grateful for their mistake. Maybe someday, they would be, too.

I started to turn when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. The operative stationed on the balcony toppled over, falling almost silently to the deck. I backed up, not sure I could believe my eyes. Maybe he’d just squatted down to pick something up? But then the wall behind me hissed, wood chips spraying out behind me.

A sniper.

I forced myself to stand still, to not react. I didn’t want them to know I’d seen.

I moved back, away from the living room windows. I couldn’t give them that easy a target.

Another hiss hit the corner of the house, spraying more wood chips. I ducked around the side of the house, yanking my gun from the holster. I’d left it there, thinking we were safe because of the other two operatives. Clearly, I was wrong.

And clearly, this wasn’t the typical Guardian.

I crouched low and ran to the front of the house. The second operative was down on the porch, a bullet in his throat. I hesitated, straining to see where the shot might have come from. There was literally no cover out here except for the occasional low cactus. I couldn’t see anything.

I made it into the house without another hiss. That told me that there was only one sniper. That could be to our benefit.

Once in the house, I engaged the security system and rushed around, pulling the curtains closed on all the windows. I could hear them talking in the living room. My heart was pounding because I was expecting to hear the shattering of glass and a scream. I was waiting for the sniper to fire through the tall windows.

But he didn’t.

That told me that he was waiting for something.

“Everyone out of the living room,” I announced, careful to stand with a wall between me and the windows.

“We’re busy, darling,” Malaika said, clearly distracted.

“I know that. But this is a little more important.”

“Than finding the name of the man behind all this insanity?”

That was Truesdale. He’d suddenly grown deeply interested in uncovering this man’s name, deciding it was some sort of puzzle he just had to solve.

It was annoying.

“Please, indulge me.”

Malaika sighed, slamming closed the notebook she’d been furiously writing in. She came to me, a twisted grin on her full lips. “What’s so important, babe? You need a little me time?” She reached up and kissed me. “Feeling neglected?”

“I wish that was all.”

As I said it, the sound of vehicles approaching—multiple vehicles—came rushing toward us from the front of the cabin.

I saw the panic in her eyes at the same moment the sound I’d been waiting for burst through the house. One of the back windows shattered. Immediately, Neri screamed.

“Daddy!”

“Listen to me,” I said to Malaika, taking her face in my hands, “I need you to go into the guest bedroom and hide under the bed. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, I need you to stay there. Do you understand?”

“Quentin—”

“Promise me, Malaika. I can’t do this while I’m worrying about you.”

“I promise.”

I pulled her close and kissed her hard. Her lips trembled, but she kissed me back just as hard.

“Go!”

I turned her around and sent her running up the hall. The spare bedrooms didn’t have the massive windows that adorned the rest of the house. With any luck, no one would see her dive under the bed.

Another burst of gunfire announced itself with the shattering of more glass in the living room. But I didn’t have time to do anything about it.

Jack had shown me the access to the crawlspace under the house. Hidden there was a locked box that was filled with guns and ammunition. I dug it out and managed to get it out, saying a silent prayer to the gods and Jack for the thoughtfulness of whoever packed this box. Heavy as all hell, it was filled to the brim with four different handguns and a single rifle. I grabbed the rifle and a backup 9mm, stuffing as much ammunition as I could handle into my pockets. I shoved the box into the oven when I was done, needing it to be handy, but not an obvious gift to anyone who might come flying through the front door.

Just as I was back on my feet, I heard Neri scream again, but this was a different sort of scream. And then a voice.

“Little piggy, come out, come out, wherever you are!”

I didn’t know the voice, but I recognized the lack of emotion in it. Like Billy’s back at the hospital, this voice suggested a lack of basic human empathy, a glee associated with the idea of hurting people.

It had the sound of a sociopath hell-bent on death and destruction.

“Come on, Quentin Forrester! We know you’re in here. You and Ms. Gray! Give us what we want, and we’ll get out of your way!”

“Take them! The ledgers are right there,” I yelled back.

“We don’t want the ledgers. We want the woman who can decipher them!”

That wasn’t good. What did it mean? Did they not know what was in the ledgers? Or were they trying to eliminate all loose ends?

Either way, they weren’t getting Malaika.

I made my way to the kitchen door, leaning against the wall closest to the living room. I could see the alarm console on the wall by the front door. It was flashing red, which meant a silent alarm had been sounded. The local cops would be here soon.

But how long would that take, and how many people would die before then?

“Come on, Quentin,” the voice yelled again. “I know you’re in the kitchen. I know you’re armed. Come show yourself, or I’ll put a bullet in this pretty girl’s head like my friends did her father’s!”

Neri whimpered.

I had two choices. I could do what he asked. Or I could attempt to keep my presence hidden until he got frustrated and came toward me. Neither seemed like a good option.

I held up my hands, still holding my gun in one hand and the rifle in the other. I stepped into the living room to face a tall, blond man in combat gear, a flak jacket over his chest. He was holding Neri in front of him, her slight body even smaller in comparison to his impressive height. She was shaking, her chest and arms covered in blood. Her father, just as the man had claimed, was on the floor with a large-caliber bullet hole in the back of his head.

I’m sorry, Truesdale.

“Good choice,” the man said. “My friends outside were primed and ready to take you out if you hadn’t done what I asked.”

“Who are you? You’re not a Guardian.”

“I’m a friend of the Guardians.”

“A mercenary.”

His grin widened. “A very expensive one.”

“They must be paying you well. But my boss could pay you more.”

He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t think so.” He gestured at me with his gun, a 9mm not unlike mine. “Why don’t you put your guns down and join us for a minute?”

“I’d rather keep them.”

“Suit yourself.” He pressed the muzzle of his gun against Neri’s temple. “It’d be a shame to waste this beauty, though. They promised me I could do whatever I wanted with her after they got what they wanted.”

Neri stared at me, her eyes wide with fear.

“Okay,” I said, carefully bending over and dropping the guns to the floor. “Let her go.”

“I didn’t say I’d let her go. I just said I wouldn’t blow her brains out.” He moved the gun, holding it down at his side. “Are these the ledgers everyone is so up in arms about?”

I nodded.

“And the rest?”

“Notes.”

He gestured with the gun. “Gather them up for me, will you? And then we’ll discuss Ms. Gray’s location.”

I did as he said, spotting his rifle leaned up against the door where he must have come in through the shattered glass that once comprised it. He was brave, leaving it there like that. It showed how cocky he was.

But he was smart, too. He twisted around, watching my every movement. He wasn’t about to leave his back unguarded. Poor Neri lost her footing a time or two, and he just held her by her throat, choking her without seeming to notice. It was what I would have done in his position.

I gathered the papers, taking my time, trying to figure out how to get the drop on him without hurting Neri. It had to be quick, had to be a moment when he wasn’t paying close enough attention. It had to be—

Now!

Neri bit his arm, and he looked away, slamming his gun against her head out of anger. I slipped the spare 9mm from the back of my waistband, thanking the gun gods or whoever that it didn’t snag on my jeans, and fired. I hit him in the knee, destroying the joint in the blink of an eye.

He screamed, turning his gun on me. He fired, but I didn’t move. I had a perfect shot at his head, and I was going to take it. Just like his friend, Billy, a perfect hole appeared in the center of his forehead. Like Billy, he crumpled, pulling Neri down with him.

She screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

I crawled over him and slapped her hard across the face.

“Listen to me! There are more of them outside. You have to be quiet and let me think!”

She immediately shut up.

I got up and grabbed the rifle from where it was still leaning, not even taking notice of its owner’s passing. I snatched up my own guns and led the way down the hall, hoping Neri was following. We were barely past the front door when it burst open, more men in combat gear coming through without taking so much as a second to look around. Confident. Or stupid.

I pushed Neri ahead of me and fired the shotgun, hitting two in the side before retreating behind a turn in the hall. Neri was shaking, leaning against the wall not much farther ahead of me. I gestured for her to go into the bedroom to her left, but she was frozen from panic. She wouldn’t move.

Goddamn it!

“He killed Wallace!” someone called.

Heavy footsteps warned me of their approach. I fired blindly, hearing a groan as one of my bullets hit its mark.

“Get out before I kill you all!” I yelled.

“We just want the girl. Give her to us, and we’ll leave!”

“You’re not getting her.”

“Then we’ll burn the house down around you!”

They were retreating. I could hear their footsteps heavy on the cabin’s wood floors. I closed my eyes and counted to five. Then I followed.

The smell of gasoline was heavy in the air. I had less than a minute to get everyone out.

“Malaika!”

She came out immediately, her face pale. I snatched her hand and pulled her down the hall. She grabbed Neri’s arm, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Come on!” Malaika cried. “We have to go!”

But the girl wouldn’t. She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “No,” she said. “I won’t leave my father.”

She stood there, her eyes so wide that they seemed impossibly big.

“They’re going to burn the house down, Neri. You heard them!”

She just shook her head.

“Come on.” Malaika grabbed my arm. “We have to go.”

I hesitated, but then followed her. She stooped to grab the ledgers, and we ran for the back door. Three men stood in the yard beyond the doors. I fired, hitting two before the third knew what was happening. They fell like dominoes, one right after the other.

The flames lit up the sky at the same time the emergency lights from the local sheriff’s office lit up the front drive. I don’t know who did more of the pulling and who did the following, but Malaika and I ran like it was a race. We rushed out across the desert, running so fast that my chest couldn’t get the air it needed, the burn worse than the pain of the gunshot wound.

We just ran and ran, holding onto each other, running into the desert until the danger couldn’t possibly get us ever again.