Page 135 of Inked Athena

Then the shot rings out before I can scream.

My ears explode with white noise. Time warps and stretches like taffy as two things happen in rapid succession.

The first comes from below. Myles rises from beneath us, unsteady but roaring a wordless battle cry as he knocks Katerinaaside. She screams, too, and whirls the gun from my gut toward him. From this close, I don’t see how she could miss.

The second thing comes from afar. A blur comes flying in and Samuil dives in front of the gun…

Right as it erupts.

Boom.

Blood sprays across the mirror shards, turning their reflective surfaces into rubies. My throat burns from a scream I can’t hear over the ringing in my ears.

Katerina’s grip on me goes slack in her shock. I drive my elbow back into her sternum. Her hold breaks completely. The gun clatters to the floor as she stumbles.

FBI agents swarm the space, piling on top of Kat, but I’m already dropping and crawling toward Sam. His blood soaks into the knees of my black dress as I reach him. He’s conscious, gray eyes blazing as they find mine.

“The baby…?” His voice sounds far away through the lingering echo of gunfire.

I press my hands over his wound. “We’re fine. I’m— We’re— Fuck, somebody help me!”

Myles kneels beside us, pressing his balled-up jacket against Sam’s shoulder where it’s pouring blood. His face is pale from his own blood loss, but his hands are steady. “You really went and took a bullet for me, you melodramatic bastard?”

Sam’s laugh turns into a cough, then a grimace. “Consider us even for the boat rescue.”

Behind us, Katerina’s hysteric sobs mix with the sounds of handcuffs clicking shut. But I can’t look away from Sam’s face, can’t stop counting his breaths, because each one means that he’s still here, still with us.

He caught a bullet meant for his friend. Meant for me.

Just when I didn’t think I could love him any more.

I can’t stop shaking as Sam’s blood seeps between my fingers. The shoulder wound gushes with each beat of his heart, dampening his crisp white shirt into a grotesque watercolor.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, pressing harder. His muscles tense under my hands, but he doesn’t make a sound.

I glance over my shoulder in time to see a glimpse of Kat’s face through the tangle of black-clad limbs. She thrashes and screams, mascara turning her tears into black rivers. The blood of the two men she tried to kill paints her cheeks red.

“Target secured,” one of the FBI agents barks. “Room clear.”

Boyko appears beside us, his previous injuries now just yellowing bruises on weathered skin. He squats next to Sam and pats him on the knee.

“As agreed, Mr. Litvinov. Full immunity in exchange for your brother and the Andropov network.”

Sam manages a tight nod, his jaw clenched against the pain. “Make sure… Nova and the baby are protected, too.”

“Already done.” Boyko stands and retreats as paramedics rush in. “Your family’s safety was part of the deal from day one.”

The medical team works quickly, their practiced movements a stark contrast to my trembling hands. As they load Sam ontoa stretcher, his fingers find mine, squeezing with surprising strength.

“Krasavitsa,” he murmurs when he sees my shell-shocked face, “didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

I laugh through my tears, following as they wheel him out. “Next time, maybe fill me inbeforetaking a bullet.”

His answering smile is weak but genuine. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He catches my hand and brings it to his lips as his smile fades into something more serious. “It had to be done like this. I hope you know that. Your reactions had to be genuine for her and Ilya to believe.”

“You orchestrated all of this?” My other hand finds his face, fingers threading through his sweat-damp beard. “The raids, the FBI, everything?”

---