I gasp, stumbling back.
The man on the other side is dressed head-to-toe in black, from his hat, to the mask over his eyes, to his long-sleeved shirt, and his very black boots.
And one thing is immediately apparent—he’s not Noah.
I try to shove the door closed, but the man blocks it with his foot and forces himself inside.
I grab the basket from the side table and heave it at him, sending magazines flying. He knocks it away and comes after me.
Going straight into panic mode, I scream and run into the living room. Which way do I go? If I run out the back, there might be vampires waiting for me in the dark. And only stupid girls in horror movies run upstairs.
The intruder makes the decision for me. Before I can get very far, he catches my arm and yanks me back.
I flail and kick, wishing Noah and I had carved out some time for those self-defense lessons.
He turns me around so I’m facing away from him, holding me against his chest. He pins my arms, working so quickly and deftly I briefly wonder how many times he’s done this.
I scream again when he pries my arm up, fighting even harder when I realize he’s bringing my wrist to his mouth.
“Hold still,” he commands, his voice forced lower than sounds natural. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
As hard as I can, I smack the back of my head into his jaw.
Swearing, he releases me. I stumble forward, almost falling on my knees, quickly realizing I didn’t fight him off myself.
The man faces Noah now, and the two are engaged like martial arts fighters in a movie.
I crawl back until I hit one of the couches, horrified.
The man ducks a punch and then pulls a gun. But before he can use it, Noah knocks the weapon out of his hand, sending it flying toward me.
I scramble forward and snatch it off the floor, not having the slightest idea how to use it.
But the man in black doesn’t need to know that.
“Freeze!” I yell as I lift the weapon, my voice shaking, feeling like a child pretending she’s a cop.
The man goes still, holding up his hands and edging away from Noah.
And then he bolts out the open front door.
Noah swears and takes off after him, running as far as the porch.
“Why’d you stop?” I ask, gasping, gun still in my hand. “I’m glad you did, but I expected you to keep going.”
Noah frowns as he scans the dark night, relieving me of the gun. “He and his men ambushed me on the way to the mailbox right after Cassian left. I’m not sure how many of them are still out there.”
“They must have taken your phone. I answered the door because you texted.”
Noah feels for it in his back pocket and then swears when he finds it missing. He then nudges me back inside, closes the door, and sets the lock. “I need to warn Cassian.”
I hand him my phone. “And Sophia and Larissa.”
He nods as he pulls up Cassian in my contacts. Sharing the news with the vampire prince only takes a few minutes, and then he returns the cell. “You need to leave our circle. Now that they have my phone, they can track you.”
“How did they get past your passcode?”
“They must have been watching me.”