“Run to the woods and hide. There’s a girl there already. Stay safe until we come for you,” she murmured.
The boy slipped out without notice. She watched him make it to the line of trees and breathed a sigh of relief. For whatever reason, no one monitored the back door. Either Lobo was stupid or cocky. She’d place all her bets on the latter. He believed he and his men were invincible and had infiltrated the fitness center undetected, so they hadn’t bothered to guard the back.
Still, it was too odd. Rose couldn’t quite believe a mastermind like Lobo would let something slip by him like this.
She opened the door a crack and peeked to the right. Oh God.
A body lay crumpled on the ground, the man clad all in black like the rest of Lobo’s thugs, and he’d been shot in the back of the head.
Madeline. I love you, girl.
So the back door had been guarded, but the bodyguard took him out. That also meant there was a seventh man, and the number was too odd. Lobo must have more lurking outside the building.
It worked for us twice. I’m getting this third kid out.
It took her several long heartbeats to get the attention of the other boy hiding behind a rack of weights. He wasn’t as invisible as he believed. If one of Lobo’s men moved to the side, he’d catch sight of him in the mirror.
A new plan hatched in Rose’s mind, and she’d put it into play right after she got this kid out.
He finally spotted her. His mouth opened on a silent O that might have been a scream under other circumstances. His face mottled as blood rushed it and then whitened as it drained out again. For a mind-boggling moment, Rose feared he’d pass out and surely catch Lobo’s notice then. But to her tingling relief, he didn’t.
She waved him over. He belly-crawled, invisible behind the equipment for several feet. Then his head emerged. He got into a crouch and hopped to the next piece of equipment.
It took what felt like several minutes for him to reach the cycles. Rose gripped his elbow and put her mouth to his ear. “Get to the woods and hide. Your friends are there. Don’t come out until we come for you.”
She cracked the door just as a bellow echoed through the room.
“Stop!”
She shoved the kid in the back. “Run!”
Then she spun, weapon raised, and shot out the first mirror. She shot out the next, and the next. The place erupted with broken shards of glass and the piercing explosion of bullets and shattering mirror.
* * * * *
Oz launched from the chopper to the ground and bolted to the building. Shrieks and explosions sounded from within.
“Holy shit. We’ve got the Sister on board.” One of the six men he’d brought with him spoke with reverence into the comms unit. But the revelation just about fucking broke Oz. If Madeline was here, in the thick of this hell fight, then Rose had either been left alone or was also present.
He didn’t know which was worse.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He pushed faster, eating up the ground to the building in seconds. “What’s Sister’s position?” he barked out the question.
“Her chip’s showing on my screen on the west side of the building. Looks like she’s working for her dinner—her heartrate is spiked,” came North’s answer.
“She’s in fighting mode.” Oz twitched two fingers to Roman and Manuel, sending them to Madeline’s aid. They shot off.
Orange and red flames of sunset rode the sky, casting everything in a fiery glow. The windows reflected it back to them, blocking out all vision of the interior. But judging by the blasts of noise coming from inside, some big shit was going down.
Where the fuck was Rose? Then his mind caught up to reality. His sons were in there. His stomach bottomed out. He pushed on until he breached the back door. He had to step over not one but two dead bodies sprawled on the ground. One had been shot in the back of the head and the other had his throat cut from behind.
Madeline. He’d seen this from her before. Grisly and yet effective. The woman knew how to do her job.
He hit the back door and slipped inside with two of his men on his heels. When he saw the woman standing before him, gun raised, he understood where the blasts were coming from—Rose had shot out nearly every mirror in the building. Only a couple remained, and as he looked on, she fired on them too. The men fired on her, but the confusion of the flying glass and her dodging around stopped them from hitting their target.
Oz’s heart exploded along with the glass. Pride mixed with a fierce need to get her the fuck out of here.
The confusion of the shattering glass provided the opportunity his team needed. They shot two guys who were in plain sight in the center of the room. Screams ripped through the air from the kids there, and they flattened themselves on the ground.
Oz closed the gap between him and Rose. Her blonde hair and curves stood out in complete opposition to the power she displayed just now. When this all ended, he’d tuck her away someplace safe and never allow blackness to touch her again.
“Rose!” He grabbed her around the middle.
“Oz! Oh my God. They’re here. My boys. Our—” The fear and pain in her eyes proved too much for him to look at.
“I know. Come with me. You have to get out of here.”
“No. I can’t leave without Nick and Alex!”
He met her stare. The pain pounding in his chest reflected in her eyes. “Trust me to get them to safety. Right now, I need you safe. They need their mother safe.”
His words cut through her enough to make her lower the weapon in her grasp. He took her to the back door and shoved her out.
“Go to the woods and—”
But she was already off, sprinting as fast as she could. He didn’t wait to see her disappear into the brushy depths but turned back to face the hell going on around him.
“Sister’s taken care of two. Damn, I wish we had her patched into this party. But by my count, we’re looking at five down and five on the loose,” Roman said.
“Lobo?” North’s voice projected into Oz’s ear.
“He’s here,” Oz said in a deadly voice. “And he’s mine.”
Manuel peeled two kids at a time off the floor where they lay and dragged them to the back door. When a man with a soul-black stare came from the side, Oz raised his weapon and took him out. He fell with a thud. A girl near him scrabbled away on hands and knees. Manuel came back for her, scooped her up and ran her to the back door, while Oz moved in for the hunt.
“Six down,” Oz ground out.
“Our Father who art in Heaven,” Archer drawled, all Texas smartass. He and Frisco edged the room, picking through glass and equipment, in the lethal game of hide and seek.
A roar rose up, and Oz spun toward it. What he spotted near the side of the room where the cage workout systems stood had his bowels turning to water. The two blond heads near the very dark one of Lobos.
Lobo hunched over, recovering from a blow to the head. Dark blood flowed freely from his head wound, and as Oz looked on, one of the twins lifted a fifty-pound hand weight and used the momentum of the swing to hit Lobo a second time.
The man dodged it and recovered, straightened with his rifle swung up and Oz’s son in his sights.
His heart stopped. One spray of bullets would take out Oz’s universe before he ever claimed it for his own.