Page 39 of The Sniper

She swung her aim toward the killer and the other remaining assailant.

The scene erupted into chaos.

Gasps and startled cries rippled through the guests, some scrambling away, others frozen in perverse fascination. The killer, now aware of the sniper’s presence, spun, a blur of motion as she bolted toward the far exit.

Reyna squeezed the trigger twice.

The next shot clipped the killer’s shoulder, staggering her. The second bullet should have been a kill shot, but at the last moment, a guest inadvertently moved into the line of fire, forcing Reyna to shift her aim just a fraction too late. The killerdidn’t hesitate, disappearing into the mass of bodies, using the chaos as cover.

Damn it!

The last attacker was faster than the first two. He lunged low, going for Daniels’ ribs.

Reyna’s breath caught.

Daniels twisted, but not fast enough. The blade glinted in the dim light before it sliced into him. Then she saw the knife in Daniels’ side.

Blood.

Reyna’s heartbeat slammed against her ribs.

Daniels didn’t hesitate. Even when he was wounded, he moved like a phantom. His knee came up, slamming into the attacker’s gut, then he drove his elbow down hard on the man’s spine. The assailant crumpled, gasping for breath.

Blood—too much of it.

Panic tried to claw its way up her throat, but she crushed it. No distractions. No emotions. She had a job to do.

Daniels straightened, his hand pressing against the wound, his eyes sweeping the room. He knew they were losing the killer and Rowe.

“Move,” Reyna said through the comms. “I’ve got this, I’m coming to you.”

Reyna didn’t waste another second. The killer was gone; they’d missed their chance. She was already dismantling her rifle, stripping it down with practiced efficiency. The mission had shifted. The sniper’s role was done; now she needed to get to Daniels.

She left the study and moved quickly until she reached his side, barely resisting the urge to touch him, to check his wound. “We need to get you out of here.”

Daniels shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Daniels...”

“Rowe’s still in play.” His jaw was tight, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “We find him first.”

Stubborn asshole.

She wanted to shake him, to make him stop being so goddamn reckless, but she knew better. He wasn’t going to back down. And neither was she.

The chaotic movements of the crowd made it difficult to spot anyone, but she could feel the shift in Daniels’s energy and body posture when he spotted Rowe. He moved ahead with surprising grace and speed for a man who’d just been knifed.

Daniels was already moving by the time she noticed the shift. He caught up to Rowe, gripping him by the collar of his expensive suit and dragging him toward an exit while keeping his arm tightly against the injured side of his body.

Daniels shoved Rowe behind the wheel of the SUV. “Drive,” he barked at Rowe, his voice like gravel, dark and commanding. “Unless you want to be next.”

Rowe didn’t hesitate. He was pale and shaken, but he didn’t argue, his hands gripping the wheel with white-knuckled intensity.

Daniels slid into the backseat, followed by Reyna. “You’re bleeding.”

Daniels pressed a hand to his side, where blood had already seeped through his dress shirt. “We have bigger problems.”

She clenched her jaw. “We lost them.”

---