Page 14 of Blood Oath Christmas
Something small and hard knocks against my foot. I glance down.
Another carving.
Wooden, delicate, smoothed by careful hands. A bird this time, wings spread as if ready to take flight.
My breath catches. Whoever’s leaving these—they’re here. Watching. But are they friend or foe? My fear tangles with a thin thread of hope, confusing and wild.
A bullet shatters the window down the hall. I scream this time, the sound torn from me before I can stop it. The door to my room bursts open and two agents rush in.
“Move!”
Hands grab me, pulling me up, shoving me toward the hall. My legs barely work. The air reeks of gunpowder and smoke. Shots ring out outside the walls, each one making me flinch harder.
They shield me with their bodies, ushering me down the hallway toward the back exit. Bullets slam against the siding, the sharp ping of ricochet bouncing in my skull. My ears ring, my chest heaves, my stomach churns so violently, I’m not sure I can keep going.
But I don’t have a choice.
We hit the back door and it blows open into the icy night. More shouting. More gunfire. My bare feet slip on the frozen ground as the agents push me forward, blocking me from every angle.
“Keep your head down!” one of them yells.
I do. Tears streak down my face, hot against the cold air. My teeth chatter from fear, not the temperature.
They half-drag, half-carry me toward a dark SUV, bullets still popping in the distance. The wooden bird digs into my palm where I clutch it, desperate for something to hold on to.
And then I’m shoved inside, the door slamming shut, the engine roaring to life.
The last thing I see as the SUV tears away is the glow of the safehouse behind me, windows broken, shadows moving across the snow.
We’re not safe. Not anywhere.
8
KONSTANTIN
Viktor’s voice is tight when he calls. “Vadim’s men found the safehouse.”
For a heartbeat, my mind goes blank. Then the words slam into me, jagged and merciless.
I don’t think. I move.
My coat is in my hand before the call ends, my gun already holstered. I yell for my car and hurry into the freezing night. My driver is there in an instant. I pay my drivers well, so they are always on duty, always alert and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Like now.
Frost clings to the windshield as I pass by and get into the car.
“Drive,” I snap at the driver as soon as the door shuts.
The engine growls awake and we take off. The city lights bleed into streaks of red and white as we fly down narrow streets. Every second that passes tightens a vise around my chest. I’ve been in a hundred firefights, orchestrated ambushes, and survived betrayals. But this—knowing Ivy is in danger—turns my blood to fire.
I’ve always told myself that watching over Ivy was my duty. My obligation. A blood oath to a man who once saved my life. But even as the car eats the distance between us and the safehouse, I know it’s a lie. I am terrified of losing her. Terrified in a way that has nothing to do with promises and everything to do with the way her blue eyes haunt me.
By the time we arrive at the safehouse, the night is already alive with violence. Gunfire rips through the dark, the staccato chatter of rifles echoing off the house as the FBI agents, clearly outnumbered, battle Vadim’s men. Muzzle flashes spark like lightning, painting the frosty ground with brief, brutal light.
Viktor waits for me, just out of sight of the house, the expression on his face so still it’s as if it’s carved from stone. As I walk over to him, two more cars show up. My men, on Viktor’s orders from me, are here to keep Vadim’s men from getting to Ivy.
“It’s not time to play nice,” I growl when the others reach me and Viktor. “Take them out, but don’t hurt the Feds.”
I’m not surprised when several of the guys look at me with surprise. Yeah, it’s not everyday they hear a Mafia boss tell them to pretty much protect the law. But this is different, and they don’t need to know my reasons.
