“No, Amy! That’s crazy. We should run. We should have gotten the hell out of here sooner. Victor probably knows that⁠—”

“Hands in the air,” came a hard, cold voice.

Both turned slowly, cringing at the tall man from the alley standing over them, a gun pointed at their heads.

Amy put her hands up, followed by Spencer. They had to think fast. Do something.

She kicked the man in the shin. He cried out. She leaped up, taking off her shoe and throwing it in his face. The heel hit his nose. Spencer punched him, and the gun clattered to the ground, sliding under someone’s car.

“Run!” Amy cried.

No sooner had she said this than someone fired at them from across the lot. A bullet pinged off a nearby car, shattering a mirror. Amy ducked and rolled, cursing her dress and tearing off her other heel.

“Go!” Spencer shouted.

I’m fucking trying!

Amy tore across the lot, evading bullets as they flew.

I should have never come to this fucking gala!

Another man stepped in front of her, but it was too late. She skidded to a halt, prepared to dash behind a van. The man raised a pistol and fired. She tried to duck, but she tripped on the end of her dress and pitched forward. The concrete was coming up to meet her face. She heard the gun go off, then a low moan.

Amy caught herself, her palms stinging against the asphalt. Her knees barked in pain, but the scream that wrenched from her throat felt worse than anything. It was caused by the sight of Spencer staggering in front of her, clutching his side, where red bloomed. His face was white with shock and pain.

“No!” came her strangled cry.

He had leaped in front of her, taking the bullet meant for her.

Spencer had a gun in his hand, though. He fired at the man who’d shot him. Struck him right in the chest. The other man stumbled, dropping his gun.

Curses flew from Amy’s mouth as she staggered to Spencer’s side. “Holy shit. I’m so sorry, Spencer. Come on, get up. Let’s go.”

He lifted a shaking finger. “Th-there.”

Amy spun. There it was. Their car!

Thank fuck.

She hoped it wasn’t too late. With Spencer leaning against her, she stumbled to the car, wrenched the door open, and helped him into the passenger side. He tried to insist that he could still drive.

“Absolutely not!” Amy hissed.

A man shouted from somewhere in the lot. “Come back here, bitch!”

Shaking like a leaf in a storm, Amy fled to the other side of the car and fumbled with the door. She saw the key inside, on the seat. Another bullet whizzed past her. “Shit, shit, shit.” She got the door open, threw herself in, and started the car as a bullet hit the side paneling, then another struck the window. She screamed, but it hadn’t hit her.

“Go!” Spencer managed, his voice coarse. He was still clutching his side, more blood seeping from his wound. Sweat poured down his face. He was fighting to remain conscious.

This can’t be happening. Spencer could not be hurt.

Amy peeled from the lot, driving with bare feet because she’d gotten rid of her heels. She didn’t care. “I’m bleeding all over the fucking seat,” Spencer got out. “Stacy will skin me alive for staining it.” He was trying to be funny for Amy’s sake, but she was pissed.

Her voice shook as she managed, “You shouldn’t have done that. You⁠—”

“Protecting you is my job.”

Amy made it onto the street, certain those men would be after them in cars in no time. Victor wasn’t messing around. He must have discovered their plot and was coming after her. If he couldn’t kill Stacy, he’d try to kill her.

She clutched the wheel and sped down the street, grateful the traffic had thinned. “We need to get you to an emergency room.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Stacy grabbed the files she’d pulled from Victor’s desk and shoved them into a satchel for later inspection. For now, they had to deal with the reinforcements he’d sent. Stacy guessed Victor himself was on his way. Would be, anyway, after he tore himself away from the adoring crowd at his gala. She didn’t want to think of what vengeance he had in store for her.

“We should go,” Rowan urged.

Stacy turned to him. “We’re going to face them. Teach them a fucking less⁠—”

Men’s shouts and beams of light filled the halls. They were searching for the infiltrators. The force of them storming the house shook the walls. Holy shit, there were a lot. Stacy encased herself in a shield of magic, holding Rowan’s gaze with firm resolve in her green-gold eyes. “I will see this through.”

Kiera spotted the encroachers in the hallway and flung up a wall of shadows. “There are too many!” she shouted over the rising commotion.

Rowan reached for Stacy’s arm. “I know you hate to run. You’ve never quit anything in your life. I understand. You’re like your mother.” A smile tugged at his lips. “And your father. Neither of them have ever been quitters, but if we stay, we can’t hope to make it out alive. I’m your sworn protector, Stacy. If I have to drag your ass out of here to keep you alive, I will.”

Stacy’s heart sank. Rowan was right.

The only thing she could think for them to do was venture deeper into Victor’s stronghold and hope they found another way out. She knew of several. The only question was, could they escape through those avenues without being trapped?

Gunfire filled the hall, and Kiera’s wall of shadows flickered. Strain tensed her body. “Go!” she shouted.

Stacy gave Rowan a look, and they ran. “Come with us!” Rowan cried after Kiera as they fled Victor’s office into a series of interconnecting corridors with several smaller rooms off them. Kiera dropped her shadows and vanished into thin air as a spray of bullets filled the room.

Victor didn’t seem to care about the state of his home. He’d allow his guards to destroy whatever they needed to get to her.

I’ve pissed him off. Good.

Kiera reappeared at Stacy’s side, running like hell.

Stacy had felt good about the operation until the guards stormed into the house. Now, she felt the desperation of the situation. The cost had gone up, and she had to face the reality that they might lose. She hated the feeling that squirmed inside her.

She yanked on her magic, casting more protective shielding around herself. At least they had taken down most of Victor’s guard. It was a start, but this was a battle she might lose, and the war was still on the horizon.

We have to be careful going through this house, she thought. She didn’t want innocent staff members dying in a fight. She resolved to maintain stealth and minimize casualities. That would get harder with how much they were being shot at.

Rowan reached the end of a hallway and yanked a door open, ushering Stacy and Kiera through. They stumbled into a dim library lit only by a sliver of moonlight seeping through a crack between the drawn curtains. Stacy hit a side table with her knee and stumbled over the arm of a sofa. Rowan used his magic to give them more light. A green orb bobbed above his palm.

“This way,” he whispered, but he didn’t have time to show where they would go.