CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was a HALO jump into nowhere and then an ass-busting hump across the desert before they crested a dune and saw the cluster of buildings down below. There were five trucks pulled up near the compound and a group of men milling around a fire. Occasionally, someone popped off a few shots on a Russian-made rifle, and laughter burst into the night.
Drinking, probably, though alcohol was forbidden in Qu’rim. Never stopped anyone before. Garrett’s great-granddaddy had been a moonshine runner back in the day, and his family had proudly provided liquor to anyone with the money and guts to purchase it during Prohibition.
Not that you’d better say that to his mama, because Mary Beth Wright-Spencer made her living teaching the children of Paris, Georgia, how to be proper young gentlemen and young ladies. The suggestion that her family had ever been anything less than proper was not one she appreciated.
Garrett’s comm link crackled. “Brandy’s still in the third building, west corner, at the back.”
It was Billy the Kid talking.
“Copy,” came Big Mac’s answer.
Richie spoke next. “Dex and Hawk will provide cover fire. Ice and Knight Rider, go get our boy. The rest of us will take care of business on the exterior. If Victoria Royal isn’t with him, we’ll do a search of the other buildings. Copy?”
“Copy.”
“Let’s roll. No one left behind.”
“Fucking A,” someone said.
They flew down the dune like an approaching storm and broke over the compound with all the firepower and fury they were capable of—which was a fucking lot.
Brandy was coming home alive.
* * *
“Don’t,” Nick said softly, forcing the word from his dry throat as Victoria started to reach behind her for the gun her sister had given her.
He’d been saving his strength as much as possible for the moment when HOT would arrive. But now Victoria’s sister was begging for their lives, Zaran bin Yusuf was furious, and Victoria wanted to kill him for hitting Emily.
He understood it. He wanted to kill the asshole too. But they didn’t have the advantage. Even if she got off a shot, there were too many men in this compound. They’d burst into this room and kill the two of them—maybe the three of them, since Nick was certain Victoria would take out bin Yusuf at the minimum and no one else would give a shit about Emily’s life if that happened.
Maybe it was worth it to Victoria. It wasn’t to him. Any scenario in which she didn’t live was not a scenario he cared to contemplate. No, it fucking terrified him to think of her dying out here.
She stilled, facing bin Yusuf with her fists clenched at her side. Emily pushed herself up, clutching her cheek with both hands. Her eyes were filled with hatred when she looked at her husband.
“I told you to stay in our room,” he bit out. “To wait for me to return.”
“You tried to keep my sister from me,” she cried. “How could you do that? I hate you!”
Jesus, that was not what they needed right now. A fucking domestic. Bin Yusuf looked utterly furious.
“She is a bad influence on you, habibti. She does not care about you the way I do.”
Emily’s face was red and tears streamed down her cheeks. “You lie, Zaran! You always lie. I want to go home. I want to have a normal life again.”
“Normal? What is normal? Where you lie in a gutter and shoot poison into your veins? Where you drink so much you pass out and don’t know your own name? Who saved you from that, Emily? Who cared enough to lift you up and make you whole again?”
The whole time he spoke, he walked toward her until he could pull her against his side and press her head to his chest. She fought, but he was stronger—and determined to win this battle. The man had a savior complex. No doubt he’d helped Emily get clean, but hitting her and manipulating her were not in the least bit loving or caring. He wanted to control Emily, nothing more. Nick recognized the signs because it was exactly the way his father behaved.
But Emily did not want to be controlled. She screamed and cried and tried to shove him away, but his grip on her tightened.
Victoria’s knuckles were white as she struggled not to act.
“I will put an end to this,” bin Yusuf muttered. Then he reached for his gun.
But Victoria was faster. She had her gun pointed at him before he’d finished raising his. Still, her sister was plastered to his side and she hesitated, which gave him the second he needed.
An evil smile curled bin Yusuf’s lips as he slewed his own weapon toward Nick.
“Drop it or I will kill him.”
“Not if I kill you first.”
He pulled Emily in front of his body. “Go ahead. Will you risk your sister’s life?”
Emily was sobbing and squirming, which meant she was in danger if Victoria fired. And Victoria knew it.
Still, she didn’t lower the gun. A surge of emotion flowed through Nick at her determination to protect him. He should be the one protecting her, for fuck’s sake, not the other way around.
But he knew she didn’t need him to do so. She was a beautiful, lethal killer in her own right. She’d survived out here for two years, working for Black and methodically taking out the targets he gave her. Victoria was a force to be reckoned with.
And still he feared for her in this situation. Because her emotions were engaged, at least where her sister was involved.
“We’re at a stalemate,” she said, her voice cool. “I’ll lower the weapon if you will.”
Bin Yusuf’s laugh was sudden and sharp. “You don’t give me terms, woman. I’m the one in charge here, not you. And if you think—”
An explosion rocked the building and then another followed on its heels. They all jumped.
Zaran bin Yusuf was choking suddenly, and Nick wondered if he’d been hit by shrapnel. But the walls were intact and everyone else was remarkably untouched.
That’s when Nick realized what was happening. Emily Royal stood beside her husband with her fist wrapped around the dagger he’d been wearing at his waist. She’d shoved it in deep, somehow missing bone and cartilage and driving it into his torso.
He staggered backward, finding enough breath to curse in Arabic. Emily let go of the dagger as he stumbled. Her face was white. Ahmed, her bodyguard, had wide eyes and seemed immobilized. But it didn’t last as he began fumbling for his weapon. Bin Yusuf still had the gun he’d been holding when Emily stabbed him. As he fell against the wall, he raised it in a shaking hand, aiming for Emily.
There was no way Victoria could shoot two men at once, which is what she needed to do to save both herself and her sister. Bin Yusuf targeted Emily while Ahmed targeted Victoria. And Nick knew, without a doubt, she was going to fire on bin Yusuf and save her sister. He understood her compulsion to do so, but he couldn’t lie here and let her sacrifice herself for Emily.
Because the world would be a darker place without her in it.
Time slowed until it seemed he could see the scene in slow motion, the men aiming weapons, the women in their sights. Outside, the explosions and gunfire grew as HOT—it had to be HOT—infiltrated the compound.
But inside, all he cared about were the next few seconds and stopping Ahmed from killing Victoria. Because HOT was here, but they wouldn’t reach this room soon enough to prevent Victoria’s death if she was determined to save her sister first.
And she was. He could see it in her eyes.
With every last ounce of strength he had, he launched himself from the bed just as the crack of a gun sounded.
* * *
Victoria dropped to the floor with a cry. Her thigh burned as if someone had jabbed her with a hot poker. But she had no time to worry about herself. She’d fired at Zaran bin Yusuf, and Ahmed had fired at her—but not before Nick launched himself at the man. She scrambled to right herself and bring the gun up.
Zaran lay still, and she knew her shot had gone true. Right between the eyes. She’d killed him, and she’d saved Emily. If she gave herself time to think about it, she would probably start to shake with the enormity of what had happened. Not killing a man, because she’d done that before, but finally killing the one man who’d hurt her sister for so long.
Though Emily had already done that, because Zaran wouldn’t have survived the stab wound. Victoria had only finished the job.
But she had no time to dwell on it because now she had to kill Ahmed. Nick had taken Ahmed down by launching himself at the other man’s legs. Ahmed had shot wide, thanks to Nick, but he’d still hit her.
Victoria rolled forward, gripping the gun, and aimed for the tangle of men on the floor. But Ahmed’s robes made it difficult to tell where he ended and Nick began. They moved too fast for her to get a clear shot. If she timed it wrong, she’d hit Nick when she aimed at Ahmed.
The men continued to struggle—and then Nick’s arm wrapped around Ahmed’s neck. Nick flipped until he was behind Ahmed, squeezing the man’s windpipe with all the strength he had left.
It was a surprising amount for a man who’d been prone on the bed until just a few moments ago. Victoria struggled to her feet. Her leg nearly buckled from beneath her and she cried out in pain. But she had to get to Nick’s side, had to press the gun against Ahmed’s temple and make him stop struggling.
She was certain that if he fought hard enough and long enough, Nick’s strength would give way. And she had to stop Ahmed before it did.
Outside, there was gunfire and an explosion, closer to the building this time. The walls shook and chunks of mud-brick dropped from the ceiling.
A quick glance told her that Emily was alive. She was leaning against the wall, her hand to her throat and her eyes averted from the scene. Her shoulders shook, and Victoria knew her sister was crying.
She wanted to comfort her, but first she had to help Nick. She hobbled toward him, each step agony. Blood seeped from her wound and stained her torn pants. For all she knew, Ahmed had hit her femoral artery and she’d be done for soon—but she didn’t feel light-headed so much as sick from the agony of moving across the room.
Ahmed’s legs kicked out and Nick’s arm tightened. Ahmed’s face was turning purple—then he went limp, sliding to the side as Nick finished the job and shoved him away. Nick looked up at her, his hazel eyes feverish in the flashes of light that made the room so much brighter than the lantern alone did. Ahmed’s body was still partially covering him, but he dragged himself from beneath the dead weight of it and staggered to his feet.
Victoria didn’t know how she did it, but she closed the distance and threw herself into his arms. He squeezed her tight, his head bowing to her neck. His skin was hot, and fresh fear ricocheted through her.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he said.
She pushed away and cupped his face in both her hands. God, he was burning up. “You scared me too.”
He was still scaring her.
“Victoria?”
It was Emily calling to her. She turned to see her sister staggering toward them, her hands outstretched, staring at the blood on them like a demented Lady Macbeth. Emily’s gaze bounced to Zaran, where he lay in a pool of blood with part of his head blown away.
That’s when she started to shake.
“Go to her,” Nick said. “She needs you more.”
For the first time in her life, Victoria was torn. Instinct told her to go to Emily, to comfort her sister and take care of her as she always had.
But a different emotion told her to stay with Nick, to never let him go. If she let him go, she had the irrational fear she would never see him again. That things would change so irrevocably she would never get back the man she’d spent the past few days with. The man she’d grown to love, as impossible as that seemed.
How did you fall for someone so quickly? How did they become the guiding star in your heavens practically overnight? It shouldn’t be possible, and yet…
“Victoria,” Emily cried again.
Victoria closed her eyes. If ever she needed to be reminded of what falling too quickly for a man could do to you, she only needed to look at her sister. Emily had followed that urge that told her Zaran was her guiding star, and look what had happened.
Victoria shuddered. And then she stepped away from Nick and held her arms open. Emily closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Victoria’s waist just as two spec-ops warriors burst into the room.
They were big and lethal-looking, and she’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Once more, she’d been saved by the Army. Odd, considering the Army hadn’t shown her much sympathy in the first place.
“About fucking time,” Nick grumbled.
“Got here soon as we could, Brandy.” The man who’d spoken was tall and broad. His greasepainted face looked menacing. “See you got yourself shot.”
“Fuck you, Iceman.”
The other man laughed. “You’ll live. Thank God.”
A second later, Nick crumpled to the floor.