“If you expected him here, fat chance, Ace.” He smiles wider, dripping blood onto the floor. “He knows what you were planning. He’s enlisted others.”
Others.
That means there is more than one leak in my organization. More men who would usurp me.
Slowly, spinning, I slip my phone from my top, dialing Killian’s number. My eyes coast over the crowd, snagging on different bodies in the far corner. Runners—myrunners—stare back at me. Tag, Brian, Cilly, and more. Hiding in the shadows, from above, on the dancefloor, they watch me. Waiting. Wishing for my fall.
It was never one leak. There was a group of them who wanted me out.
A woman can never lead.
“Princess.”
“It’s everyone,” I snap. “Get in here.”
The line goes dead. Two of Lex’s guards come over, unaware of the danger I see, and I pull on one’s wrist. Locking eyes with him, I warn, “Call Lex. Get ready.” Then I say the one phrase that Nico gave me years ago. The sentence all his men were supposed to know, react to, if we were discovered.
“The rest is silence.”
His eyes widen, but he nods, grabbing Reese’s shoulder. Without another word, the guards disappear into the crowd. Searching the room, I follow the word as it’s passed, men pulling their weapons.
In the center of the dance floor, the gleam of a silver Glock shines, and I exhale. Death was never frightening, and I’ve met it head-on in previous fights. Alone, in a crowd, it makes no difference. I’m not afraid of what waits for me.
When a warm hand slides along my waist, and the scent of mint hits my nose, I smile. I might not be afraid to die, but with the Reaper at my side, I know it won’t happen.
He’ll keep death from me. I know this in my bones as assuredly as I know of his devotion to me.
A bullet fires over the room, somehow louder than all the other music, and time stops.
31
KILLIAN
Iwrap my arm around Maeve’s waist, hauling her behind the bar. The bullet roars over the heads of the drunk coeds, but I keep myself between her and the enemies. Dropping her, I push her further down, leveling my gun over the bar’s edge.
Beside us, a pretty guy with blue eyes lies dead, the bullet striking his chest.
Screams ring out, the stampeding of heels pounding into the floor like an earthquake. Bottles shake and fall behind us, as glass explodes on contact. The bullets don’t stop. Most come from overhead, but a few fire from the left, and I hunker closer to Maeve, keeping her covered. They want her—not me. And I’ll be damned if they take her.
“What happened?” I growl, finger twitching to release the trigger. Not yet.
“It’s not just Ronan,” she shouts. “He’s swayed a few other men to his side. They’re here—they want me dead.”
“They’ll have to get through me,” I vow.
She moves, like she’s going to jump up, but I yank her back. Glaring at her, I tap her nose, and she flinches, annoyed. “Stay.”
“I swear to God, Killian?—”
“Trust in Lex’s men to have their establishment,” I interrupt. “They won’t let this last.”
“Are you saying we can’t take them on?”
I smirk. “Of course, we can. I’m saying I’d rather not drag you out bleeding from a firefight again.”
The bullets don’t stop, but to my glee, I hear the click of new guns. High frequency, a harder release, they begin shooting them through the bar. Grinning at Maeve, she rolls her eyes.
“See?”
