Page 157 of Gabriel: Duke of Bencalor

But Quinn knew the woman was go­ing to kill Raul, no mat­ter what Luis said or did.

Quinn felt Gabriel’s mus­cles tense. She squeezed his thigh hard in a warn­ing not to do any­thing stupid. She hoped he got the mes­sage.

She slipped her hand all the way into her purse and wrapped her fin­gers around the Glock. She vi­su­al­ized how she would pull it out, bring her right hand up to grab the grip, aim it at Odette’s heart, and pull the trig­ger.

Now she needed to drag the woman’s at­ten­tion away from the king and Raul.

“What’s in Iowa?” Quinn shouted as she ripped the gun out of her purse and stood, all in one mo­tion.

Odette’s mouth was open in a shriek as she turned her at­ten­tion to Quinn, the pis­tol com­ing with her.

As the woman piv­oted, Gabriel hurled him­self off the sofa to­ward Odette. Quinn screamed and yanked her Glock up­ward to fire at Odette over his shoul­der.

She heard an­other gun­shot be­fore Gabriel slammed into Odette, grab­bing her wrist and smash­ing her gun hand against the mar­ble man­tel. The pis­tol pin­wheeled in the air be­fore it clat­tered to the floor.

Quinn launched her­self to­ward Gabriel and Odette, her Glock ready, as she tried to see if ei­ther of them was bleed­ing.

She caught a blur of mo­tion as oth­ers of the fam­ily moved too. “Stay back,” she yelled. Mikel’s peo­ple would need a clear view to quickly as­sess the sit­u­a­tion.

As she ex­pected, doors banged open, and peo­ple charged into the room. The king shouted at them, but Quinn paid no at­ten­tion to that.

She kept go­ing to­ward where Gabriel still strug­gled to hold Odette, their bod­ies locked to­gether. Quinn winced as she saw blood soak­ing the side of Gabriel’s shirt. She hoped it was Odette’s.

“Odette!” Quinn snapped. “Give up. I have a gun, and the guards are here. You’re done.”

“Shoot me!” the woman snarled as she freed a hand to jab her thumb at Gabriel’s eye. “I will not live with my fail­ure.”

Quinn raised her gun to call Odette’s bluff, but Gabriel was too en­twined with his neme­sis for Quinn to take a chance on fir­ing.

“No!” Luis’s voice rang out. “Dy­ing here would be too easy for her. She will suf­fer a life­time of im­pris­on­ment for what she did to Gabriel.”

Then a fig­ure in black raced past Quinn and twisted Odette out of Gabriel’s grip, fling­ing her face­down onto the floor be­fore yank­ing her arms be­hind her back. Quinn low­ered her arms as she watched Mikel kneel and slap hand­cuffs around Odette’s wrists.

Gabriel leaned against the man­tel, his arm braced on the shelf, his chest heav­ing as he gulped in deep breaths. Quinn flew to him, still hold­ing her Glock. “Are you hurt? There’s blood on your shirt.”

“Por el amor de Dios,” he panted. “What the hell were you think­ing? I thought she was go­ing to kill you.”

“Wait! You tack­led her be­cause of me? You’re crazy. I had a gun.” Quinn held up the Glock.

“Quinn.” Mikel spoke from be­side her. She turned to see his hand held out. “Why don’t you let me take care of the gun?”

She had been won­der­ing where to put it down safely, so she gave it to Mikel with alacrity. Now she could check to see if Gabriel was in­jured. “Does it hurt any­where?” she asked as she ze­roed in on the blood­stains on the side of his shirt.

“Not there,” he said. “My shoul­der, but it’s just a graze.”

“Shit!” She stood on her tip­toes to see a widen­ing patch of bright red blood on his left shoul­der.

“Mon fils!” Hélène pushed past Mikel. “Gabriel! You’re hurt! Come sit down.”

His mother tugged him to­ward the love seat by his right hand be­fore say­ing, “Mikel, we need an am­bu­lance.”

“On the way al­ready,” her boss said. “Paola, take a look at el duque’s in­jury.”

When Mikel’s EMT cut away Gabriel’s shirt, guilt clawed at Quinn. Had her bul­let hit him, or had Odette’s?

“How bad is it?” Quinn asked as Gabriel winced when Paola ex­am­ined it.

“It will need a few stitches, but it will heal up fine,” the EMT said, swab­bing it with an­ti­sep­tic. “Maybe leave a lit­tle scar.”

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