Page 7 of Javier

The sharp reports interrupted my path to death. The sounds echoed in the clearing—curt, brisk, and startling. The bastard whirled around and whipped his rifle into his hands. Floundering on my hands and heels, I scuttled backward until my back hit the wall. I caught a glimpse of the other thugs, falling like dominos around the nuns, one after the other.

My attacker ducked behind the stairs, lifted his rifle, and scanned the hills. When he didn’t find a target, he whirled around, pointed his weapon straight at my face, and muttered through his teeth, “Change of plans.”

Thena, Cece, Affie. I love you. I shut my eyes and conjured an image of my sisters’ beloved faces.Goodbye.

Crack.

The sound thundered in my head. For a moment, it drowned out the frantic pounding of my heart. I opened my eyes. Time slowed to a crawl. The side of my attacker’s face caved in. His rifle dropped out of his hand, clattering to the ground with a distinctclank.

Crack, crack, crack. More shots rang in the courtyard.

Everything happened in slow motion. The brute pitched forward. His fall lasted forever, until he finally landed at my feet with a thud. By the time he hit the concrete, he didn’t have a head anymore. Blood pumped from his neck as if his body had turned into a spigot.

A scream caught in my throat as an atmospheric haze swooped down, muting most of the noises around me. My vision tunneled, and the black veil began to pull over my eyes again.

Don’t pass out, Missy. Not now.

I blinked hard to dispel the darkness. My blood swished in my ears, louder than anything else. I couldn’t breathe. Or move. Somehow, I was still alive.

How? Why? Who?

The yard whirled around me. My stomach distended and contracted like an accordion. Trapped in a time warp, the nuns’ voices filtered through, low and warbled as they stretched out in my head.

“It’s… a… miracle!” Sister Janet made the sign of the cross in slow mo.

“Thank… the… Lord!” Sister Elsa lifted her arms to the sky and joined her hands in prayer.

The seconds stretched out. My limbs weighed a ton. Gravity squashed me down. Through the haze, I squinted at the surrounding carnage. All that blood. All that death.

I was in shock, trapped inside the shell of my unresponsive body, fighting not to pass out, a witness to thedeadly morning with no will of my own. The questions crawled out of my brain one word at the time, as if hammered out by an old-fashioned dot matrix printer.

Who were these men? Did they work for my father? And if they did, why did they want to kill me? Was my control freak of a father so furious with me that he wanted me dead? Most pressing: who had killed the killers?

From the corner of my eye, I caught a blur of movement. It took all I had to turn my head. I blinked to clear the haze. The rustle of my lids sliding over the balls of my eyes sounded like sandpaper scraping on wood to my ears. When at last I was able to squint beyond the courtyard, a man stood at the center of my vision’s tunnel.

A formidable warrior stepped through a slit in the fence and broke through an exuberant tangle of magenta bougainvillea. I opened my mouth to warn the nuns, but no sound made it out. Danger sparkled in the air as he crossed the yard, advancing with his rifle tucked against his cheek and his finger on the trigger.

He swept the space with his weapon several times before he lowered it. His attention turned to me. He pinned me down with fierce brown eyes that made me want to burrow underground and hibernate until the world became a better place.

The man stalking toward me wore military gear and was armed to the teeth. He was impossibly tall, big, and menacing. He sported muscles everywhere, a thick corded neck, wide shoulders, ripped arms, powerful thighs, and an unwavering stride. I was trapped like a deer, caught inhisheadlights.

He was terri-freaking-fying.

His well-worn boots crushed the mud. The earth seemed to shudder beneath his feet. I knew without knowing that he was here for me. There was no running from him, no escape.Whatever happened next, this man was inevitable to me.

Oh, God. I covered my mouth with my trembling hands.

Death had arrived for an encore, and this time around, we were out of miracles.

Chapter Three

Missy

Real time slammed into me, leaving me gasping for air. Beneath my bewildered stare, the man detoured to inspect the dead. Working systematically, ignoring the questions Sister Janet tossed at him, he collected the dead men’s weapons, and after muscling open the iron grid at the center of the courtyard, tossed them down the well.

“You two.” He pointed from the nuns to the well. “Drop the bodies in there. Now.”

His tone was intractable. His command absolute, and yet, paralyzed by shock, I watched as Sisters Elsa and Janet hesitated.

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