Page 147 of Crown of Lies

My heart stops as I realize what it is, but there’s no time to react.

A massive bang erupts, followed by a blinding flash of light that sears my retinas.

44

ATLAS

The world explodes into chaos.One moment, we’re standing in the shop, ready to go confront Ambrose. The next, a deafening bang rips through the air, and a blinding flash sears my vision.

I stumble backward, my equilibrium shot to hell. The ringing in my ears is so intense it drowns out everything else. Smoke billows from the canister on the floor, quickly filling the space.

Blinking rapidly, I try to clear my vision, but it’s like looking through a haze. Shadows move at the edge of my sight. It takes me a second to realize what I’m seeing.

Men. Armed men pouring through the shattered front door.

“Watch out!” I shout, or at least I think I do. I can barely hear my own voice over the persistent ringing in my ears. “They’re coming in!”

The smoke is getting thicker, making it hard to breathe. I cough, the action sending a spike of pain through my head. But I can’t focus on that now. We’re under attack, and we need to move.

“Get down!” I yell, diving behind a nearby counter.

The air fills with the sharp crack of gunfire. Wood splinters above my head as bullets tear into the shop’s fixtures. I hear someone cry out in pain, and my heart lurches.

“Quinn!” I shout, but there’s no response.

A meaty hand grabs my shoulder, yanking me from my cover. I spin, coming face to face with one of the attackers. His eyes are cold, emotionless behind his tactical gear.

I don’t hesitate. My fist connects with his jaw, snapping his head back. He staggers but doesn’t go down. Instead, he charges, tackling me to the ground.

We grapple on the floor, rolling through broken glass and debris. His elbow catches me in the ribs, forcing the air from my lungs. I retaliate with a knee to his gut.

Around us, the fight rages on. I catch glimpses of my friends locked in their own battles. Nico darts between two attackers, his movements a blur. Somewhere to my left, I hear Killian roar in defiance.

My attacker pins me down, his hands closing around my throat. Spots dance at the edge of my vision as I struggle for air. In desperation, I thrust my palm up, catching him under the chin. His grip loosens just enough for me to twist free.

We both scramble to our feet, circling each other like caged animals. He swings first, a wild haymaker that I barely dodge. I counter with a jab to his solar plexus, following up with an uppercut that rocks him back on his heels.

But he’s tough. He shakes it off and comes at me again, this time landing a solid blow to my kidney. Pain explodes through my side, nearly buckling my knees.

Gritting my teeth, I surge forward, grabbing him by the vest. Using his own momentum against him, I pivot and shove him hard. He stumbles backward, arms windmilling, before crashing into one of the full-length mirrors lining the wall.

The mirror shatters with a thunderous crash, raining glass down on the stunned mercenary. He slumps to the floor, a thin line of blood trickling from his temple.

I step forward, ready to make sure he stays down, when movement catches my eye.

There’s a masked figure weaving through the chaos. He moves with purpose, dodging debris and skirting around the ongoing fights.

“Ambrose!” I shout, my voice hoarse from the smoke.

The masked man freezes for a split second, his head turning toward me. That moment of hesitation confirms everything. Vic was right. The Saint is Ambrose.

“Son of a bitch,” I growl, launching myself after him.

Before I can close the distance, the mercenary I’d just knocked down grabs my ankle. I stumble, nearly face-planting on the glass-strewn floor. Twisting, I aim a kick at his head, but he rolls away, pulling me off balance.

“Atlas, watch out!” Nico’s voice cuts through the din.

I look up in time to see another attacker bearing down on me, a wicked-looking knife in his hand. I throw myself to the side, feeling the blade whistle past my ear.

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