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And then, it hit me, what had woken me up—the coarse, heavy scent of smoke, filling my nostrils. I sat bolt upright and looked around. And, sure enough, underneath the door, I could see the flickering light of flames in the hallway.
"Shit!" I exclaimed, and I sprang out of bed, grabbing the gun I kept in the nightstand and pulling on my shirt and pants. Morgan woke beside me, a furrow in her brow.
"What is it?" she mumbled, but then, she seemed to catch the same scent I did.
"We need to get out of here, now," I told her urgently, tossing her a tee and some pants from my wardrobe. I knew they weren’t going to fit her, but that was the least of our worries right now. We needed to put as much space between ourselves and this place as possible. Someone had attacked the mansion—and I had a pretty good damn idea who.
She scrambled out of bed, and I kicked the door open. Sure enough, a broken bottle smelling strongly of alcohol was lying next to one of the windows, a Molotov cocktail intended to burn this place down from the inside out.
"Guards!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Who’s here? Roll call, now!"
But before I could make out anything in return, the sound of a gunshot rang out from downstairs. I rushed to the balcony that would give me a look into the entrance hall, and my stomach dropped when I saw what was waiting for me. My guards were there, alright—dead. Lined up and taken out by a group of five men, all holding revolvers, faces wrapped in masks to keep out the smoke. This attack had been planned down to the detail, and I knew they weren’t going to let me and Morgan out without a fight.
But if they thought I was handing her over that easily? Oh, they had a whole heap of other things coming. I darted back to the bedroom, where Morgan was waiting for me, her entire system trembling.
"Here, wrap your face in this," I ordered her, handing her a jacket hanging on the back of the door. "Get as far away from the door as you can until I give you the word, okay?"
"Okay," she replied, and I caught her face in my hands, looking deep into her terrified eyes.
"Nothing’s going to happen to you," I promised her, and I planted a kiss against her lips before I darted back to the door, pressing my back against the wall farthest from the flames that were beginning to lick up around the window frame. There was a way out, on the other side of the balcony that ran around the entrance hall, but we wouldn’t be able to get there without attracting the attention of the men below.
Which gave me one option. Taking as many of them out as I could.
I snuck to the balcony’s edge, the heat of the flames sending beads of sweat dripping down my face. I didn’t have long before that fire spread out to consume the rest of the house, but I didn’t have time to think about that now. None of the staff stayed here overnight, so at least I didn’t have to worry about them. No, the only person I had to think about right now was her.
I checked the gun was locked and loaded and took aim at the man who seemed to be giving instructions to the group below. They hadn’t seen me yet, but as soon as I let off this shot, there was going to be no way for me to stay hidden. I took a deep breath, lining up the gun with the back of his head, and then squeezed the trigger.
The noise was deafening, but I made the shot. The man collapsed to the ground, a splatter of blood and brains spreading across the polished wood floor below him.
"Morgan, now!" I yelled to her, praying she could hear me. We had to take this chance, in the confusion, to get out of here while we still could. I ducked down as a hail of bullets flew in my direction, and Morgan rushed from the bedroom to join me, keeping low, her feet bare.
"Behind me," I told her. "Keep down. Below the banister."
The banister was slatted, which gave their weapons access to us, but I had to hope that the smoke and chaos would give us enough in the way of confusion to make a break for it. I led Morgan as quickly and quietly as I could around the edge of the balcony, ducking behind the large busts that my father had put up when he had been alive; one of them shattered into pieces next to my head, and Morgan let out a cry of shock.
"They’re up there!" one of the men yelled, and I peered around the marble bust to see him pointing up at us, but none of the others had spotted us.
"Where?" one called back, but before he could turn around, I lined up the gun and took the shot. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to expose us like that, not a hope in hell. The bullet slammed squarely into his chest, sending him flying off his feet and crashing into one of the pillars behind him.
"Now, run!" I hissed to Morgan, and I grabbed her hand as we sprinted around to the far side of the balcony. I could feel the adrenaline throbbing in my chest, the blood pulsing around my head, but there was only one thing I could think about—keeping her safe. I just had to keep her safe.
Another bullet whistled over our heads, one more splintering the banister beside us, but we made it to the far side. I hustled Morgan in front of me to the steps that led to the garden, rushing her downstairs and out into the dew-soaked grass below.
"Go, go!" I told her, pointing to the stone door at the far end of the walled garden. It wasn’t something you would notice if you didn’t know it was there, and it might just give us the break we needed to get out of here.
I glanced over my shoulder at the house as I ran after her, taking it in one last time, and I knew, the moment I saw it, that it would be the last time. Smoke was billowing from several different windows; the firebombs targeted at every corner of the place to try and flush us out. The mansion would be reduced to ashes in a matter of hours, and I was sure they would spend a whole lot of time sifting through the remains to confirm that we had been in there when it had happened. I didn’t know whether this punishment was aimed at Morgan, me, or both of us, but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
Morgan rushed, barefoot, across the grass until we reached the stone gate. I pushed it open for her, eyes darting around to make sure nobody was there to catch us before we could get out, but the coast was clear.
"We need to get to the garage," I told her hurriedly. "There’s a spare key in there for one of the cars, come on."
But she had frozen to the spot, turning back to look at what remained of the house. The flames were reflected in her wide eyes, her gaze glassy, the shock clearly just beginning to set in.
"Alex, I …"
"We can talk about it when we’re safe," I promised her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tight. "Come on. We need to go. Now."
Chapter Eleven – Morgan
