Page 85 of Scarlet Mark
“Yeah, but I don’t know what the fuck she’s trying to tell me.” He started to reply when his jaw tightened. “Oh. Oh, fuck.” I watched as he pulled the first letter of each sentence into a new message.
K - I. T. S. A. T. R. A. P. - R
I didn’t know how he caught that so quickly, but imagined it went with the territory of his job. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back down the stairs toward the kitchen, his movements sharp and precise.
But a familiar face stood waiting for us at the bottom.
One that made my blood run cold.
Killian stood before me as if protecting me from the sight of my former “fiancé.”But the sound of heels on the stairs behind us had me turning to see another nightmare come to life.
Clarissa pointed a gun at my head, her aim very likely to be true at this close range. Unfortunately, she was smart enough not to move within grabbing range. Killian had taught me a few ways to disarm someone, none of which would help me at this angle.
Shit!
Taviv appeared beside Malcom, nudging him to the side and aiming a weapon at Killian. “Weapons. Now.” The authority in the male’s tone scattered goose bumps across my skin.
“Or she dies,” Clarissa added, as if it wasn’t clear by the barrel aimed at my skull.
“All right. Everything is in my jacket,” Killian said, removing his hands from his pockets slowly and opening them to show he held nothing. He slid the wool from his shoulders and tossed the clothing downward, where it landed at Taviv’s feet with a thud.
There go our guns.
“Shoes,” Taviv demanded next.
Killian kicked off his shoes, sending them down the stairs. Then bent to show off his socks. “Nothing there.”
“Walk down here. Slowly. Amara stays.”
Killian shrugged, completely at ease. How he managed to feel fine about all this floored me. Did he have a secondary plan we hadn’t discussed? Because none of our ideas involved being surprised by Malcom and Taviv.
Which meant Amir lurked nearby.
My stomach twisted in the worst way, my mouth going dry, my hands beginning to shake.
And Killian left me on the stairs, his steps slow and even as he descended toward Taviv.
What if he shoots Killian? He’s my only hope at escape!
Sweat trickled across my brow despite the ice swimming through my veins. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Clarissa and Geoff were supposed to be here with a bunch of sex-possessed monsters, stewing in a world of violence that we intended to make even bloodier.
Not this.
Not Killian walking toward Taviv with his hands raised.
He had to have some sort of idea to get us out of this.
As he hit the last stair, Malcom’s fist met Killian’s face, sending him backward into the wall. Rather than fight back, he merely looked at him. “I see why you went into politics, Senator. You wouldn’t survive a day in my world throwing punches like that.”
Taviv hit him next, the butt of his gun slamming into Killian’s skull and sending him to the floor with a grunt.
He didn’t move.
Knocked out.
Oh God… This is really happening.
Because Killian wasn’t faking it. He would never stay down like that. Right? Maybe? Fuck, it could—
