Page 59 of Property of Azrael

With a cry, I manage to get my legs out from under him and roll him over, onto his back. His face is covered in cuts and blood. It’s not until I peer lower that the red bloodstain in the middle of his chest sinks in.

The boom. How the world tilted on its axis until I woke up with him on top of me. They shot him.

“Azrael!” I scream. “Please, wake up!”

He can’t be gone. I won’t allow it.

His eyes flitter open, and a groan escapes past his lips.

“Call Asher,” he manages to get out.

“I don’t have his number.”

“Pocket.” His voice weak, with a slight tremble.

I dig into his pockets, feeling for his phone. The cool metal grazes my fingertips and I pull it free, the cracked screen illuminating. Thank god. It still works even after the wreck. Something else brushes against my hand. Azrael’s gun. Without thinking, I grab it. The realization that I’ve never held a gun before in my life seems unreal, but knowing those men could circle back at any moment, I hold it close while I pass the phone over his face to unlock it. Trembling, I pull up the contacts list and press Asher’s name.

It connects, and before he can say a word, I start screaming.

“Az has been shot!”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. Everything is so dark here.”

“Tell me what you see. Landmarks, anything.”

Peering down the road, I see an illuminated sign for a gas station, and I read off the name to Asher. He at once starts barking out orders to the guys.

“Is he alive?”

“I think so,” I convey, my voice cracking. “He’s been shot in the chest.”

“We’re coming, Hallie. Just hold on. Stay on the phone,” Fox yells in the background. “We can track it.”

Az makes a noise. I put the phone down next to us, giving him all my attention.

“I love you,” he groans.

I tell him I love him too, but he goes unconscious. “Azrael? Azrael!” I continue to scream his name, shaking him. “Come back to me, baby. Please, come back to me.”

I don’t know how long we set there on the edge of the road. Time moves so slowly, I can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours. The only thing I’m paying attention to are the rise and fall of Azrael’s chest, and every raspy breath he takes. As long as he’s breathing, there’s hope.

An approaching motorcycle comes up the road from behind us, its headlights blinding the closer it gets. A man, hidden by the lights, swings off the bike and runs toward us. I cover Az with my body and aim the gun at the man approaching, protecting him as much as I can. And then I see Fox’s face.

“It’s me, Hallie. Put the gun down, sweetheart.”

I lower the weapon and drop it to the ground. Fox is there in three long strides. Kneeling next to us, he pulls out his phone.

“We need an ambulance,” he barks into the receiver, rattling off our location without missing a beat. “Get them here. Now!” Setting down his phone, he turns to me. “Tell me everything, Hallie. Tell me what happened, what you saw, what you heard. Anything you can think of.”

My voice shakes as I recall everything. “There was a white van. We’d just left the salsa bar when it came speeding up behind us. He tried to lose them, but they pulled up beside us and started shooting. They hit Az, and we went down on the bike. That’s all I remember.”

“What did the van look like? Make? Model?”

“It was older,” I recall. “White… Wait, there was a logo on the side. A snake, I think.”

“Good, Hallie. What way did they come from?”

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