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CRACK!
The barrage of gunfire came a second later from somewhere deeper inside. A bullet whizzed past, embedding into the wall not far from my head. I ducked and raced toward the sounds as Colt unleashed a savage howl of fury.
I charged forward and slammed into another soldier who’d turned toward me as he stood in the middle of the hallway, his gun in his hand.
“What the fuck?—”
He didn’t have time to finish before I fired. The shot hit him in the center of his forehead. Blood splatter arced through the air behind him as he dropped to the floor. Screams and sounds of chaos came from behind those double doors. A thud came as someone slammed into them as I lunged and pushed one door aside…and froze.
Bodies. Blood and butchery.
That’s all there was.
Colt lunged and took out two other men who held a woman down as his brother went to work with his daggers, taking out two men at a time. But my focus wasn’t on them, it was on the woman on the ground. One who was very…very pregnant.
Colt slammed his fist into the side of one attacker's head, knocking him out cold before he turned on the other.
“No.” The guard’s eyes widened. He shook his head frantically and tried to back away. “No, I didn’t mean...”
But there was no escape. I glanced at Vivienne, who was bloodied and beaten, her shirt ripped and her eyes wild as she shoved to stand. Only she wobbled, her hand going to her belly, cradling it as Colt wrenched his gaze her way, scanned her from top to bottom, then turned back.
The guttural sound that came from that male chilled me to the bone. But I wasn’t here for them…I pushed in, searching the rest of the room, and stopped.
A woman howled and raged at the far end of the library. One who was naked, straddling a man as she beat him with…a book?
Trouble.
I lunged forward as three men tried to drag her off him.
“The fuck you do.” I lifted the gun and took aim, squeezing the trigger.
Crack!
I hit one guy, causing the two others to spin around and face me. But it wasn’t just them. Two more stood at the edge of the room in front of an open single door near the shelves. They were dressed in black, no weapons that I could see. But that meant nothing. They stood there watching Helene as she lifted the mangled, bloody mess of a book over her head and brought it down once more.
Thud!
I swung my gun toward them, watching as one looked in my direction, piercing me with that detached, vacant stare.
They were Sons.
Sons.
But they weren’t here to kill us. Not yet.
The honed killer turned his attention back to Helene, watching her with a look of…pride.
He was proud of her. Proud as she unleashed all her fury on that, that thing.
“Don’t. You. Fucking. Touch. My sister. Again!” Helene slammed the book edge side down over and over in a sickening frenzied attack. One that made my stomach drop and my insides run cold.
She slowly rose on shaking legs, naked and heaving. Blood ran down her face and over her lips until she lifted her gore-splattered hand and swiped her mouth.
Then I looked down and saw the mess of the man she’d attacked. There wasn’t much left of his face…but what little remained intact told me all I needed to know.
It was Coulter.
A smirk tugged the corner of my mouth. Helene didn’t need saving. She never did. No, Hell hath no fury like a woman defending those she loves. And Trouble was that woman. She hadn’t needed saving, she’d saved her own goddamn self.
