Where did he go?
I can’t hear anything but horses.
Now I’m afraid for a completely different reason. What if Raylan comes back? The Djinn will ambush him. Raylan has no idea what’s going on—as far as he knows, Cal and Dante grabbed Josh and canceled the hit. He has no idea that anyone could come here looking for us.
I shift on my feet, wondering if I should try to cross the fields to find him. I can’t just stay here hiding while Raylan’s in danger too.
Right as I’m about to move, I see Penny’s ears stand up stiffly, and she takes a quick step to the side. I hear Brutus’s angry snort in the next stall over. The horses smell somebody else. Someone they don’t recognize.
The Djinn is inside the stable.
I stay perfectly still. Barely breathing. Time seems atrociously slow.
I don’t know if he saw me come in here, or if he’s just searching the most obvious places. I don’t know how carefully he’ll look, or if he’s just glancing around before leaving. I don’t know if he has a gun, or the fish knife.
I wait, my pupils so dilated that I can see every hair on Penny’s bright, coppery coat. She seems as tense as I am. She can probably smell my fear.
I don’t hear footsteps. I’m hoping, praying the Djinn has left.
Then Penny’s stall door creaks open.
I see the Djinn’s booted feet, standing just past her back hooves.
Without thinking, I slap Penny hard on the flank. She kicks backward with both feet, hitting the Djinn square in the chest. He goes flying backward, crashing through the door of the stall opposite Penny’s.
I’m running again, out of the stable, across the open yard.
I don’t scream for Raylan this time. The Djinn is too close. I don’t want him to hear me.
No . . . he’s not close . . .
He’s right behind me.
I can hear his boots on the gravel—it’s impossible to be quiet here. I hear his ragged breathing. He’s gasping for air, groaning with each breath. He’s obviously injured—possibly Penny broke a few of his ribs. But still that motherfucker is gaining on me. He’s fast and relentless. He’s never going to stop. I have no more weapons. If he gets his arm around my throat again, I’m dead.
He’s closing in. So close that I can feel his hot breath on my neck.
Then, out of nowhere, Raylan hits him from the side. He barrels toward us from the direction of the house, tackling the Djinn sideways, taking him out at the knees so they roll over and over on the crushed stone.
“Run, Riona!” Raylan shouts.
He’s wrestling with the Djinn. He’s got no weapon either, and I see a flash of silver as the Djinn swings the fish knife toward Raylan’s eye. Raylan grabs his wrist, barely twisting the blade in time. It cuts his cheek instead.
Raylan is actually the bigger of the two men, but I’ve never seen someone as fast as the Djinn. He sends slash after slash at Raylan, some blocked and some cutting Raylan on the forearm and the shoulder. Raylan has one hand on the Djinn’s throat and he’s squeezing, while trying to block the knife with the other hand. All this happens in the space of two seconds while I’m rooted in place, staring at them in horror.
I don’t know what to do.
We’re right next to the barn where Grady makes the saddles. Where Raylan and I had our encounter.
I run into it and grab two items off the bench: the lantern and an awl. I sprint back to Raylan, who’s locked in a trembling, static position with the Djinn: the blade of the fish knife pointed at Raylan’s throat, the Djinn bearing down on the handle with both hands while Raylan tries to push his arms back.
The Djinn looks inhuman, those bug-eyed lenses fixed on Raylan, and his face a rictus of fury. I turn the lantern directly at his face and switch it on.
The light flashes right into the night-vision goggles. The Djinn howls and staggers back, tearing the goggles off his face. He’s stumbling and blinded.
“Raylan!” I cry.
I toss him the awl.
He catches it in his right hand and plunges it into the Djinn’s chest. The Djinn shrieks, unable to even see what’s hit him. He feels for it blindly. But unlike the fish knife, he can’t pull the awl out. It’s too deeply embedded, in too vital a place.
Instead, he sinks to his knees with a long gurgling moan. He falls over on his side, the gravel biting into his face.
Raylan kicks the Djinn over with the toe of his boot. The Djinn rolls onto his back, his mouth still working soundlessly.
I step closer, looking down at him. I hold up the lantern so I can see his face.
Without his goggles, he looks . . . utterly average. He has a soft, plain, almost gentle-looking face. Brown eyes, wide and bloodshot now, but almost pretty with their dark lashes under his straight brows. Thin lips and weak chin. A man you would never look at twice, passing on the street.
I suppose that was helpful in his profession.
I look up at Raylan instead.
He’s panting heavily, his shirt slashed open on his shoulder, his right cheek bleeding.
His blue eyes find mine, and I see infinite relief in them as he looks me over, as he sees that I’m safe.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight against his warm chest.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he tells me.
I think he’s reassuring himself.
22
Raylan
I can’t let go of Riona. I’m holding her, probably too tight, but I can’t relax my grip.
I should never have left her alone at the house.
How the FUCK did the Djinn find her!?
It could have been the emails—he might have tracked the IP address. Or maybe it was the phone calls.
Either way, I wasn’t careful enough. That won’t happen again.
I kiss Riona, tasting the last remnants of adrenaline on her lips. I can feel her shaking from her sprint across the yard.
“What are we going to do with him?” she asks, looking down at the body of the assassin.
“I’ll bury him somewhere out on our land,” I tell her.
“Don’t go right now,” Riona says.
“I won’t,” I promise her.
I’m not letting go of her, even for a second. Instead, I scoop her up in my arms and I carry her into the house. I carry her all the way up the stairs to her room, and I lay her down on the bed, on top of the covers.
Then I kiss her, pinning her down against the pillows. Running my hands over every inch of her body, making sure that no part of her is injured.
We’re both still keyed up full throttle. We’re full of nervous energy that has to go somewhere.
Riona strips off her clothes and climbs on top of me. Her pale skin gleams in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her hair looks dark auburn, and her eyes are green as moss. She looks like a creature you might find deep in the woods. Something that would lure you off the path, that you would gladly follow to your doom.
She straddles my hips, stroking my cock with her pussy lips. It feels so good that I think I’m already inside of her, even though I can see that I haven’t even penetrated her yet. She’s just slowly grinding her clit against the shaft of my cock.
I could watch her slim body writhe on top of me for hours. She looks inhumanly beautiful. Almost too beautiful for me to reach up and touch.