Page 138 of Crave Me

I bolted back into the kitchen, wincing at an irritating static and buzzing that filled the space while the lights flickered ominously.

And then it was gone, an eerie silence descending, the lights going out, security cameras, appliances shutting down, everything crashing at once.

Caleb came running in. “Fuck, was that—”

“An EMP? It would seem so.” I took stock of everything, the way it had occurred. “A non-nuclear electromagnetic pulse, a NNEMP, by the looks of it.”

“There are lights in the distance, so it’s localized,” he reported.

That only meant one thing. “We’re under attack.”

I rushed to the knife block and yanked out two, handing one to him and readying one myself.

We rushed out down the corridor, intending to head to the sub-level and access the armory down there.

We didn’t get very far into that mission when yells out front in the courtyard reached us, followed by screams. A crash back the way we’d come had me swinging my head toward the kitchen to see three guys smashing their way into the place.

Before we could react to any of it, the entrance doors exploded, decimating them, the impact ripping Caleb and I off our feet.

I landed on my injured right arm, hissing at the pain, losing my grip on the knife in the process.

“Cas!” Caleb cried, pushing to his feet and choking from the smoke and debris.

He had his hands on me a moment later, trying to help me up.

He didn’t get very far into the task, though, when a boot slammed into his gut and blew him back.

Another boot came at me and I rolled to my side, avoiding the hit, then snatched up the handle of the blade, as I used the momentum to get back to my feet.

The moment I made it, the owner of the boot lunged at me.

I snagged his arm, jerked him into me, and drove my knife into his chest, stabbing through his tactical gear. His eyes went wide behind his mask and he choked as I wrenched it out, then kicked him away. As he smacked into the lobby wall and collapsed, gasping out his last few breaths, I spun just in time as another came at me. I lobbed the blade and it cut through the air and drove into his throat. Satisfaction sung through me as blood spurted, letting me know I’d hit my target despite the blade not being weighted or designed for this sort of use.

Another ran at me and I let him hit, twisting to the side and bending so as the impact came, I was able to use his weight against him to haul him over my shoulder. I gritted my teeth as my arm screamed in protest. Another few minutes and the painkillers would kick in, but that could actually prove detrimental to my focus and stability through this fucking home invasion.

A home invasion?

They thought they could come at me in my home?

They’d never fucking survive it.

As the guy I’d just felled tried to push back to his feet, I was there, fisting my hand in his hair and using it to smash his face into the hard floor. Once. Twice. Until he was out.

I wrenched his Beretta from his holster, cocked it and readied my aim.

They hadn’t drawn right away. It indicated that they needed us alive for something.

Likely, to take King. They needed me to do that in its entirety. It was a failsafe I’d set up.

Well, one of them.

I spun and fired off a shot at another assailant barreling through the mess of the entrance doors, the bullet driving through his skull and putting him out of the fight instantly.

Then I turned to see Caleb hauling a hostile down the corridor, then delivering a push kick to another in the next beat. Two others, he’d already downed.

But another three jumped on him.

He snarled as he was driven into the wall with jarring, disorientating force.

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