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He kept the gun pointed, waiting for movement. Sound. Anything.
There.
He pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked empty.
Impossible. He’d only fired once. He pulled the trigger again. The hammer slammed into place, making a loud metallic click.
No spark. No kick in his hand.
No bullet flying out to stop their opponent.
The door swung wide, and Hunter gathered Kate, intending to bolt into the kitchen.
If he could even make it that far.
She felt limp in his arms, and he wondered how much blood she’d lost. It wasn’t pooling on the ground, but his sweatshirt looked like it had soaked up quite a bit.
“Freeze,” said a voice thick with an accent. “Or not. I can shoot you while you move just as easily.”
Hunter kept his gun up, because it looked better than nothing. “I can shoot you back.”
Silver raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you having some difficulty with the ignition? Funny when the spark just won’t happen, isn’t it?”
Hunter stared at him and didn’t want to lower the weapon—was Silver saying he’d done something to prevent the gun from firing? That would take an insane amount of control, especially from this distance.
“Go to hell,” rasped Kate.
“I gave you a chance, Hunter,” said Silver. “One chance. And while you were allowing known Elementals to escape, I was doing a bit of research about you. Turns out your father wasn’t quite the man I thought he was.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Hunter said. He didn’t care, either, but talking meant no one was dying.
“I think you know what he did. You’re living proof.”
“Shoot him again,” Kate breathed. “Just . . . try.”
Hunter cocked the hammer, but now that Silver was talking, he didn’t really want him to stop.
Silver didn’t look concerned. “You both know what I came here to do. You know and you chose the wrong side. You both know the penalty.”
Then he drew back the hammer of his gun.
“Wait!” cried Hunter.
“No.” Silver’s finger pulled back on the trigger. But the shot went way off target.
Because Casper was just there, tackling Silver in a snarling hundred-pound mass of muscle and fur and teeth. Silver went down. The dog’s jaws locked around his forearm, and the gun went skittering across the foyer floor.
The man was swearing, trying to get free, but Casper was a trained police dog.
Taking down a man with a gun was something he knew how to do.
Hunter felt giddy with relief.
“Run,” whispered Kate. Her fingers were clutching Hunter’s. Her lips were pale.
Then Hunter had her in his arms, and they were bolting past Silver and through the door. Sirens were screaming somewhere down the street.
