Page 165 of Carnal Wagers

“I mean,” Alizé whispered, “I like being avenged as much as anybody else, but buy me designer shoes or a purse with a big bouquet of carnations and peonies, and those will make me swoon.”

“Before or after you’ve had your own chance of revenge?”

“After, of course.”

I arched a brow, unimpressed, still assessing the situation. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

To our left, one man had taken up position in a far tree, his sniper rifle trained on Paulie and Shiner’s position, while three more fanned out on the ground. From where we were, the sniper had no visual on us, but his legs stuck out in my line of sight. I aimed for it.

With one shot, the man nose-dived and hit the ground with a sharp thud and cry, but he managed to pick up his rifle and shot back in our direction with rapid fire. The bullets struck dirt, trees, and hidden rocks. I dropped to the ground, and Alizé leaped for safety behind another oak tree a few feet away. Debris sailed through the air. Dirt clung to my tongue, and wood dust buried itself in my nostrils. Every time I tried to join her, more bullets rained down between us, forcing me back.

“Stay there,” I mimed, my palm up and out.

“Like easy prey?” She mouthed, then shook her head.

She pointed at me and motioned for me to join my men. Next she pointed at herself, walked her index and middle fingers in the air, gestured to a cluster of trees, then tapped on her newly acquired set of throwing knives.

“No. No.” I knocked my forearms together in an X, but she’d already turned away. I gritted my teeth. “Alizé, for feck’s sake, get back here.”

Chapter 40

Before her, this was the kind of shite I normally lived, ate, and breathed. Then a stubborn woman, a head shorter than me but clearly just as lethally protective, became the center of my world. Now that beacon in my head, normally telling me to race into the storm, was warning me to grab her and run.

I shot blindly at the ground where the sniper hid and raced after her to the next tree over. Another quick set of bullets cracked against the outer edges of the tree trunk and stopped me short.

By the time I got another look, Alizé was long gone, barely a shadow among the brush and trees. She snaked closer to the sniper’s position as I tracked her advance and scouted around her for any movement. Luckily, no one had seen her yet. The sniper’s focus stayed on me, bullets popping left and right, while his cohorts advanced.

At the next peek, a flash of silver flew at the sniper and struck him in the side of the head. He was dead. She’d done it. Of course she had. The woman was a force of nature when she put her mind to it.

Another volley of gunfire aimed her way killed my relief. Her sputtered curses as she dove out of view practically stopped my heart. Both of the bastards nearest to me had pivoted and were aiming in her direction.

I didn’t second-guess myself. I ran at them. Neither saw me until I was on top of them. By then, it was too late for the first. One clean gunshot to the head. The second whirled around in time to smack the gun out of my hand. We grappled together as I fought to get the upper hand. After rolling atop him, I pinned his feet and landed one solid punch to his shoulder, my fist raised to deliver another blow.

“Stop, or she dies.”

I froze, my panted inhales searing my chest. A mercenary held a gun to Alizé’s head as she slouched against him, her limbs oddly limp. A syringe stuck out of her neck, the plunger flush with the barrel of the syringe. Bile rose in my throat.

“Let her go, or your man gets it.” I yanked my prey by his collar, then shoved him face down in the mud to prove my point. His coughed exhale was the perfect appetizer to fuel my wrath.

“That’s not how this works,” her captor rumbled from deep in his chest, his tone measured and withdrawn behind his balaclava. “You’re both coming with us. I need you. I don’t need her. You get my drift?”

“What’d you give her?”

“Nothing she won’t sleep off, if she survives that long.”

I tossed my gun and inched off the mercenary beneath me, my hands raised. “You have me.”

“Now step toward me. Slowly.”

My muscles coiled. When I got my hands on him, I was going to tear him limb from limb, then dissect his insides for ever thinking he had the right to touch her.

I took my first step forward, then the next.

The man below me scrambled to recover his gun, then bolted upright. I should have expected the blow of his retaliation. He smacked the barrel of his weapon against my temple, once, twice, and when I slipped under a sudden wave of lightheadedness, he gave me a kick to the gut for added humiliation.

The crack of a gun popped through the air, and my prey-turned-attacker wailed a sharp cry.

“Shit. Leave him. She’ll have to do for now,” the apparent leader grumbled. “You just had to fucking hit him.”