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There was a yell, then silence.
She’d hit him, whoever him was.
Adrenaline shot through her. Time to take a chance. She went in low and fast, rolled across the floor, coming up in a perfect crouch, arms extended, facing the now open door. The shooter wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Another door—she yanked it open and ran through a bathroom and back out into the hall and saw splatters of blood. The hall was empty.
She heard Nicholas moan. She shut and locked both doors, and dropped to her knees beside him and pulled him into her arms. She saw a syringe sticking out of his neck. The plunger wasn’t depressed, and a thick, viscous gold liquid was still in the tube. Still, he must have gotten a bit of a dose. She jerked the needle from his neck. The wound began to bleed, and she blotted it with her remaining sleeve. His eyelids began to flutter; he was coming around.
“Nicholas. Wake up.” She shook his shoulder. His eyes opened. He shoved himself away from her with such force she landed on her butt.
She scrambled back to him, grabbed his arm. “Nicholas, there’s another shooter in the house. They cut our comms, I fired a shot outside, so I hope Penderley realizes we’re in trouble.”
Nicholas was on his knees, facing her, weaving a bit. Slowly, he raised his hand to his neck. She saw his pupils were dilated, saw he still wasn’t with it.
She shook him as hard as she could. “Come on, Nicholas. Pull it together.”
“Trying.” His voice sounded nearly normal.
“Okay, okay, stay still.” She rose and looked through the thick pounding rain down into the garden, but they were on the wrong side of the house. No Penderley.
Nicholas grabbed a chair and pulled himself up. “Whatever that ruddy bastard shot me with is strong. My head’s still spinning.”
“He got out through the bathroom, over there. When I got back to the hall, I didn’t see him, but I saw a blood trail, so I gave him a shot for you.” She helped him to his feet, her shoulder under his arm. She got him up and into a chair.
He tried to smile at her. “My lips are numb, and my hands, but I’m okay.”
“Good, because we need to get out of here in case that bastard comes back with reinforcements.”
“Where’s Gareth?” Nicholas got slowly to his feet. He finally managed to straighten.
“He was shot in the neck, but he’ll be all right.”
“Good. Good. You look like you had quite a dustup. You won, I hope?”
“I did. Rocky’s on his belly, nicely handcuffed. I blew out his kneecap.”
“Remind me not to get on your bad side. You’re all right?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry about me. We need to catch whoever’s running around this house with a gun and a stack of syringes. How did he get you?”
He looked surprised. “I have no idea. One minute the three of us were going up the stairs, the next I woke up in your arms.” He gave her a look. “Rather enjoyed that part of it.” And then he lightly cupped her face, then shook his head, and dropped his hand.
“Yeah, yeah, can you walk without help?” Actually, she’d have enjoyed it as well if she hadn’t been so scared.
He took three steps to test and nodded, then realized, “That bloody prat took my Glock.”
“Give me your spare magazine, I’m down three bullets.”
He handed it over and she switched them out. “Okay, let’s go. Slowly. You’re still not too steady on your pins.”
There was a clear blood trail down the hallway, then suddenly it stopped. He must have bound the wound. They went down another flight, paused on the small, dark landing.
They both smelled the blood. They heard him wheezing, each breath an effort. She’d lung-shot him, but he was still on his feet, still ready to fight, waiting for them by the main staircase. He probably realized Penderley’s men were right outside and he was stuck in here. And he was fully prepared to kill them.
Mike dropped and rolled to the top of the stairs, came up on her elbows, and as the man raised his gun, she pumped four bullets center mass. He stared at her in surprise, dropped his gun, then quietly fell backward onto the beautifully appointed foyer just as Penderley’s tactical team burst through the front door.
66
Nicholas watched the paramedics wheel Gareth to the curb. His face was white, he was clearly in pain. He touched Gareth’s arm as he passed. “I’m glad you’re okay, mate.”
