Page 46 of Chain Me Knot

I leave the shower running as I pace to the window. Let them waste time thinking we're still in there. The sound of water hitting tile might buy us precious seconds. I snag a blanket from the bed one-handed, the soft material catching on my wet skin as I wrap it around Emma's naked form.

Soren opens the window as I draw close to him. The cool night air hits us and I adjust the blanket around Emma.

“I'll go first,” Asher whispers, already swinging one leg over the sill. “When I’m down, hand her down to me.”

Then he’s out the window, dropping fifteen feet to the ground. He lands in a crouch, immediately straightening with his arms raised toward us.

I lean out to lower Emma as much as I can. She stirs, making a small sound of confusion as I release her into Asher's waiting arms. He catches her easily, cradling her against his chest.

The half open door slams into the wall and four figures surge into the bedroom, faces hidden behind balaclavas. Soren and I move automatically, years of training kicking in. I drive my shoulder into the first intruder's solar plexus while Soren's leg sweeps the second one's feet from under him.

The third attacker comes at me with a knife. I catch his wrist, using his momentum to slam him into the wall. The drywall cracks with the impact. The fourth tries to circle around us, heading for the window. Soren's elbow catches him in the throat, dropping him to his knees.

I block another knife thrust with my forearm. My wet clothes hamper my movement, but rage and instinct fuel my strikes. The first attacker rises, joining his friend in pressing me back. I duck under a wild swing, retaliating with an uppercut that sends one of them staggering.

Soren drives his knee into one attacker's ribs, following with a palm strike to the nose. His head snaps back and he drops unconscious to the floor.

“Your six!” Soren grunts. I spin, barely avoiding a taser aimed at my back. My roundhouse kick sends the weapon flying, followed by a combination of strikes that drives the attacker toward the door.

The intruder stumbles, off-balance. I capitalize on his moment of weakness, sweeping his legs and driving my knee into his sternum as he falls. The impact knocks his sidearm loose. I snatch it up and chamber a round. Four shots, four targets. I aim for legs. Clean. Precise. The intruders groan on the floor, clutching non-fatal wounds. They won't be following us anytime soon and we’ll need them alive to question after I call for reinforcements.

“Phoenix. Get out!” Soren shouts as more shadows fill the doorframe. He's already at the window, one leg over the sill.

I back toward him, keeping the gun trained on the door. Two more figures appear, but my warning shot sends them diving for cover.

“Go!” I tell Soren, laying down suppressing fire as he disappears through the window.

The moment I hear his feet hit the ground, I follow. The fifteen-foot drop lasts forever, then I hit the grass in a roll that drives the air from my lungs. We move like shadows, staying low and close to the house. We step through the kitchen door that’s still open from when we picked Emma out of the pool while Soren covers our rear.

Emma stirs in Asher’s arms, making a small sound of confusion. “Alpha?”

His lips are set in a firm line as he hunches over her, protecting her with his body. He presses her face against his neck, splaying his fingers along her nape and through her damp hair. “We have you, Moonbeam. Stay quiet for us.”

The intruders are skilled, unlike the thugs from the hospital. Not hired muscle but professional operators. I bend and scurry behind the island counter. The pantry is dark, but my fingers find the false panel. Three quick taps, then slide left. The mechanism clicks, the compartment opens, and I grab weapons.

Movement in the doorway.

I spin, shielding Asher and Emma with my body as three figures surge into the kitchen.

“Here!” I thrust a Glock into Asher's free hand. Emma’s confused whimpers tear at my heart as she starts to stir, but we have no time for gentle.

Soren and I meet the attackers head-on. The fight is brutal, efficient. No wasted movement, no pulled punches. These aren't street thugs. They move in a familiar formation with familiar moves.

Soren takes a hit that would drop a normal man, retaliates with an elbow strike that cracks bone. I grapple with an attacker twice my size, both of us crashing into the kitchen island. Pots clatter to the floor, the noise deafening in the enclosed space.

A third intruder circles toward Asher and Emma. Asher’s Glock barks twice. Two precise shots that find a shoulder and a knee. Disabling but not lethal.

My attacker drives a knee into my ribs. I return the favor with a palm strike to his throat, following with a combination that sends him staggering. Behind me, I hear Emma's frightened cry as she becomes more aware of her surroundings.

“Hostiles incoming. Ten o’clock!” Asher rasps, shifting to keep Emma protected as a massive figure charges through the doorway.

I meet the attack head-on, ducking under a wild swing to drive my fist into his solar plexus. He's big but telegraphs his moves. When he stumbles, I sweep his legs, following him down with an elbow strike to the temple and he drops unmoving to the floor. His balaclava tears off in the struggle, revealing Carl Jones's face.What the fuck?

He should be on our side. Or he would be if he hadn’t been bought. How many of our own are we fighting? The betrayal burns, but I don't hesitate to take his weapon from his limp hand. His phone peeks out of his pocket and I take that off him too, shucking it into a damp pocket of my cargo pants.

Soren dispatches his attacker with a combination that ends with the man crumpled against the refrigerator. Asher's shot takes out the third, the intruder dropping with a knee wound.

We’d normally stop to investigate who these men are. At least pat them down for evidence, but none of us are willing to stick around and risk more hostiles finding us. Not with Emma so vulnerable.

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