Page 63 of Rescuing Ember

“Ember,” I say softly, approaching her like I would a spooked animal. “Are you okay?”

She lets out a choked sob. The rolling pin clatters to the floor. I pull her into my arms, feeling her shake against me. Her heart hammers against my chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

“You did good,” I murmur into her hair, breathing in the scent of her—lavender and adrenaline. “You did so good. But we need to move. There’ll be more coming.”

Ember nods against my chest, pulling back to meet my eyes. The fear is still there, but underneath it, a steel core.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.” I’m already moving toward the back door. “Fast and far. Don’t stop for anything.” Except I grab my gear with my spare magazines. “This way.” I reach for Ember’s hand.

She pulls back.

“Wait.” In a flash, she darts back into the master suite.

I haven’t cleared that room.

“Ember.” Panic claws at my throat.

She reappears seconds later, old sneakers in hand. “Can’t run barefoot in the city.” She shoves her feet into the worn shoes.

Smart girl. I forget sometimes she knows these streets better than I do.

We burst out into the night, the cool air a shock after the heated chaos of the fight. I grab Ember’s hand and take off down the street, leaving the safe house and the bodies behind.

As we race through the darkened streets, my mind whirls. How did they find us? Who betrayed us?

But those are questions for later.

Right now, putting as much distance between us and our pursuers as possible is all that matters.

Ember keeps pace beside me, her hand gripping mine like a lifeline. We’re too exposed.

A car engine roars behind us. Headlights flare to life, sweeping across the street. More men. The vehicle lurches forward, tires screeching against asphalt.

The headlights grow brighter. They spot us as we sprint toward a narrow alley.

The pungent stench of urine and rotting garbage assaults us as we plunge into the darkness. Behind us, tires squeal. They’re trying to run us down.

We race down the alley. My boots pound the pavement. Ember’s sneakers slap beside me. The alley ends in a high chain-link fence—no time to find another route.

“Up and over,” I grunt, lacing my fingers together to boost Ember.

She steps into my hands like she’s done this before, and I heave her upward. She scrambles over the top with surprising agility.

Headlights flood the alley, blinding me. Car doors open. Footsteps approach.

“Shit.” I draw my weapon, squinting against the glare. Three silhouettes emerge from the light. I fire twice, aiming low. A cry of pain tells me I’ve hit at least one.

No time to finish this. I holster my weapon and leap for the fence. The chain-link rattles as I climb.

A bullet pings off the metal near my head. I throw myself over the top, landing hard on the other side.

“Come. I know where to go.” Ember pulls me to my feet.

I follow her lead, trusting her street smarts. We weave through a maze of alleys and side streets, the sounds of pursuit never quite fading.

Ember darts into a narrow passageway between two crumbling tenements. The stench of garbage and stale urine assaults my nostrils. Rats scatter as we pass, their eyes gleaming in the dim light.

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