Page 177 of Blood Stone
“You really are here,” he said. “What the hell, Kate…”
“I came to get you back.” Her voice was hoarse and her eyes were tear filled. “Wecame to get you back.”
Roman stepped around to face them both. He was breathing heavily, the price a vampire paid for moving at top speed like that. He would have to feed, soon, too. But for now he was looking at Garrett with an expression that seemed half-angry, half…
Garrett abruptly started to shake, deep in his core. “This isn’t a game, Roman. Ye can’t pick up and wander off when ye feel like it over and over. I’m done lettin’ ye think that’s okay. I don’t think Kate would ever let ye do it. She’s got more grit than me.”
Kate smiled. “No I don’t, but my life is a lot shorter, so I can’t screw around with my time like you two. But I don’t think it’s an issue anymore. Roman?” She looked up at him.
Roman was watching him. “Kate told me why she calls you Micheil.”
Garrett frowned. “Never could come right out and say it, could you?”
“What? That I love you?” Roman sighed. “Of course I do. I’ve been a fucking idiot for two hundred years and I’ve been tied up in knots for these last ten weeks, because I’ve fallen in love with Kate just as badly. Between the two you I haven’t known which way to turn. I love you, Calum Micheil Garrett of the mighty Bruce Clan. Always have, always will. It just took me a while to settle to the fact.”
Garrett felt something loosen and relax inside him, similar to the release of tension Winter had created when she had masked his need to feed. “A while to settle to it? Six hundred years? And you call me impatient.” He shook his head.
Roman kissed him and Garrett let himself drown in the kiss. He didn’t give a damn about who might be witnessing it.
The loud gunshot and the blow to his back were simultaneous. He was punched forward by the blow, rammed into Roman’s chest. Large calibre, his over-taxed mind calculated, to deliver such force.
But before he could even straighten himself up, there was another two shots, both quiet retorts muffled by a silencer.
Then silence.
Roman pushed him to his feet and Garrett turned around.
“Sweet Mary Mother of God,” Garrett breathed.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door and Sebastian and Nial pushed back into the room. Garrett hadn’t been aware of them leaving. They had slipped out discreetly, giving them privacy.
The guard Winter had put to sleep still lay peacefully in the corner. But the two guards Garrett had overcome and Nial and Roman had choked to unconsciousness now lay dead on the floor. Each had a neat bullet hole in the centre of their foreheads. One of them was holding a stubby little Smith & Wesson revolver. His trouser leg was rucked up, revealing an ankle holster. He had clearly roused enough from the temporary lapse of consciousness to pull his gun and shoot Garrett in the back.
Kate stood where Garrett had been standing, her legs spread. She was lowering her arm. In her hand was a Glock with a silencer attached. She was staring at the guards.
“What the hell?” Sebastian said, looking at her.
“Where did you get the gun?” Nial demanded.
“I took it off the guard we ran into, out the back,” Kate said, her voice remote and dreamy.
“And you just happen to be a crack shot?” Sebastian asked.
“Just lucky, I suppose,” she said, her voice still distant.
“She was an archery champion,” Garrett said. “In high school.”
Nial glanced at him. “We don’t have time. Sebastian, clean the gun off and leave it here. We need to be gone. And we need to finish the last of this business. You take Roman and Garrett. I’ll take Kate and Winter. I’ll meet you there.”
Sebastian lifted Kate’s hand and gently plucked the gun from it.
“Meet us where?” Garrett asked, lost.
