Page 12 of Savage Assassin

I yank the door open with one sharp gesture, that spark of courage all I can summon for a moment.Just hang on, and there will be another.I try to breathe through my nose and out of my mouth, interrupted by every sound of gunfire from downstairs.

My mother will be at the stairs to the wine cellar. Down there already. She didn’t come get me because–

I can’t think of any reason for it that doesn’t make me want to burst into hysterical tears. So instead, I force myself to stop thinking about it, to stop thinking about anything other than the next step forward, the next breath, the next spark of courage that can get me to the edge of the stairs and starting to go down, looking around wildly as I crouch low for anyone who might spot me and try to attack.

“Elena!”

I nearly scream before I realize that it’s my father’s voice. A wave of relief washes over me, so strongly that I’m almost dizzy, before there’s the sound of more gunshots. I feel as if I’m about to come out of my skin all over again.

“Volkov, quickly!”

I see Levin appear behind my father; his face is taut and determined, his jaw set as he steps quickly up the stairs, reaching for my arm. “We’ve got to get out of here, Elena,” he says calmly, and I look up at him, feeling slightly dazed.

There’s a smear of soot on his jaw, and a red mark on his throat, as if someone clawed at him with fingernails. However, he still has that devastatingly quiet danger about him that sparked my curiosity earlier, that would make my heart race if it weren’t already beating at full capacity. His hand closes around my upper arm, broad and strong but gentle, and he tugs me carefully towards the side of the stairs that will lead me around my father and down. “We need to go,” he repeats, and I shudder, twisting around to look at my father.

“No, I can’t! I can’t leave you–”

It had been bad enough to imagine leaving when we’d spoken about it yesterday or the day before, when the sun had been shining brightly enough to wash away the memories of the guerrilla attacks from Diego’s men, José’s attack on me, or the countless threats that have come our way since Isabella ran away with Niall. Now, with parts of my home on fire and the sound of gunfire in my ears, a look of fear on my father’s face that he can’t entirely hide, it feels impossible.

“Elena.Querida. You have to.” My father reaches for me, briefly pulling me out of Levin’s grasp as he puts his hands on my arms gently, looking at me with the expression of love that I’ve grown so used to over the years, trusted so deeply. “You’re not safe here. You know that. Volkov will get you out. You can trust him, but youmustdo as he says. Do you understand me?”

My throat is so choked with tears that I can’t speak. All I can do is shake my head, a wordless plea not to be sent away, and I see my father’s face fall as he pulls me into his arms, embracing me tightly.

“Querida,please. Don’t make me watch another of my daughters go to the hands of a man like Diego, or worse. Please go.”

He leans back, stroking my hair with both hands as he looks into my eyes. “Joya,I love you. I’ll see you again, I swear. But I need to know you’re safe.”

He stands, passing me off to Levin as he starts to walk back down the stairs, two at a time, and I see with a sudden shock that there’s a gun in his hand. Somehow that chokes me up even more, knowing that he’s going into danger, defending himself and the others in the house, in the compound, and I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks.

I want to be sick. I feel alternately numb and as if my entire body is vibrating with fear. It takes me a minute to realize that Levin’s hand is gently on my arm again, guiding me down the stairs.

“You’ll be safe,” he says, his voice full of a calm reassurance that I find astounding in the present situation. “Your father told me where to go. All will be well, Elena–”

There’s another burst of gunfire, and Levin spins, pushing me behind him as he levels a gun that I never even saw him reach for. I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle a scream, freezing in place as I watch him scan the area around us, head turning slowly before he lowers the gun and nudges me in the direction that I know leads towards the wine cellar.

“Quickly,” he says, staying just slightly behind me. “We have to get out of here.”

From the corner of my eye, I see the doorway that leads into the formal living room, and the flicker of flames from just beyond it. My entire body tightens with fear, and I feel myself shrink closer to Levin instinctively as I realize that the house itself is being set on fire.

“Stay close to me,” he says tersely. “You’ll be safe.”

Somehow, despite the fact that I met him only yesterday, I believe him. It’s something about the way he holds himself, the calm confidence with which he moves, looking around every corner and gauging our next steps before he guides me forward. His hand touches the small of my back, urging me towards the stairs that lead down to the wine cellar, and I feel a jolt go through me.

No one has ever touched me like that before. No one would have ever dared–except José, and that was nothing like this. I feel my breath catch in my throat for an entirely different reason, but before I can think too much about it, Levin is gently pushing me forward.

“The fire is going to spread. We need to move.”

The words are terrifying, but his voice is so calm, so certain, that it doesn’t inspire the kind of horror that I would have thought.

“Keep moving, and we’ll be fine, Elena. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.I feel a pinpoint of calm in my stomach, spreading outwards. I have a brief moment to wonder if that’s normal or if I’m somehow going into shock, before I suddenly feel Levin push me forward a little harder and the swift movement of him spinning to face away from me.

The sound of the gunshots deafens me for a moment. I let out a surprised shriek, and I only know what Levin shouts to me because I see the motion of his mouth as he yells out, “Run!”

This time I don’t hesitate. I get one glimpse of bodies on the stairs before I bolt for the wine cellar door, fumbling madly with it before I rush inside, leaving the door ajar for Levin.

Dimly, I hear footsteps behind me, and I hope they’re his. I hope so even more when I hear the door slam, and I turn just as I reach the trapdoor at the back of the cellar, heart in my throat as I wait to see who is going to come around the row of shelves.

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