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But it wasn’t meant to be. She’d taken her eyes off the path in front of her for a few seconds to check her surroundings, and when she looked back, Zbirak was standing there, dead ahead, a gun in one hand and a smile on his face.
“You should’ve been quieter, little mouse. I could hear you from across the yard.”
Cassie swallowed back the bile that had risen in her throat. The feeling that had drawn her in this direction tugged harder, forcing her to circle around until Zbirak’s back was to the house. “You’re not going to get away with this.” It was the only thing she could think to say. “I have friends who will search for me. They’ll never stop until they find you.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Zbirak raised the gun. “Any last words?”
Cassie had been in this situation before—defenseless, staring Death in the face. She’d had her life flash before her eyes plenty of times before. But this time was different. This time, she felt like she was in the right place at the right time. “Do you have any regrets?”
Zbirak must not have expected the question because he hesitated, tilting his head ever so slightly to one side. “Come again?”
“Do you regret anything you did?” Cassie stood firm now, legs rooted to the ground. The cold seeped into her boots, but she didn’t move. She felt like she was waiting for something. A signal, perhaps. She’d know it when she saw it. “Killing people, I mean. Have you ever had regrets?”
“No.” Zbirak frowned. “Not until today. Not until you.”
“Me?” Cassie hadn’t expected that answer. “Why?”
“You’re different. Special. It seems a waste.”
“You don’t have to, you know. You can choose.”
“Oh, I know.” Zbirak was still frowning. “I am choosing. Choosing to live with this regret. I truly am sorry, Ms. Quinn. If it’s any consolation, I feel as though you’ll find solace on the other side.”
Cassie opened her mouth to say something, anything, to get him to extend the moment even a few seconds longer. She didn’t want to die, and as many times as she’d imagined how it would happen, she never thought it’d look like this.
Zbirak took a deep breath, holding the gun steady.
His finger twitched toward the trigger.
There was a loud bang, and Cassie jumped, waiting to feel the impact of the bullet.
But there was no pain. No fear. Zbirak’s mouth dropped open at the same time blood blossomed from the side of his head. His eyes went dark, and his body crumpled to the ground. The gun fell from his fingers, unused.
Cassie looked around wildly, spotting a figure running toward her through the trees. It took her a few seconds to put it all together. The dark hair in a high ponytail. The long coat snagging on branches along the way. The black gun gripped between her hands.
“Adelaide?”
“Cassie.” The detective was breathless. Slowing as she got near, she kicked Zbirak’s gun away from his hand and then bent down to check his pulse. He must’ve been dead because she tucked her own weapon away and grabbed Cassie by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt.” Cassie hadn’t realized how afraid she’d really been. Tears poured down her face. “I’m okay.”
Harris pulled her into a hug that stole her breath, lasting a full minute. Harris wiped sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her jacket. “What were you doing out here? Why didn’t you run as soon as you saw him?”
“I knew.” Cassie swallowed, trying to get her thoughts in order. “I knew if I just stayed there, it would be okay.”
Harris shook her head. “Someone’s really looking out for you, I guess.”
Cassie looked back toward the house, her stomach dropping as she remembered Zbirak’s other victim. “Bob! He’s injured.”
Cassie took off toward the house with Harris right behind her, calling after her to stop and let her go first. Cassie ignored her, bursting through the front door and charging down the stairs. She heard Harris curse behind her, but their attention was stolen by the man in the center
of the room.
The ice pick was still lodged in Bob’s chest, and though his rattling breath was certainly cause for concern, the weapon had kept him from bleeding out—at least for the time being.
Harris knelt next to him, checking his wounds. “He doesn’t look good,” she said. “We need to get him to the hospital.”
Cassie wasn’t about to argue. It took a few minutes, but they stripped the ropes from his chest, and together, they hauled him up the stairs. His head lolled back as they dragged him out the door, and Cassie had to fight back tears. After all that, she couldn’t imagine him dying. Not now that Zbirak was gone, and the danger was over.
