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A purr builds inside me.
Before I can figure out what it means, Lilah stiffens and my fantasy dies in a flare of knife-sharp panic.
“Down!” she screams, kicking my feet and slamming me to the ground.
***
Twenty-Four
LILAH
I spot the shooter half a breath before the first scream.
“Down!” Before I can think, I react, dragging Orion from the bullet aimed at his back.
The shot echoes in my ears, a world-ending snap that sounds ten times louder outside the firing range.
A line of fire cuts my arm.
Then it’s fucking bedlam.
The room erupts.
A dozen shots pepper the ballroom, and I don’t have to look to know the guy who just tried to assassinate Orion is meat paste. But are there more shooters? I keep low, looking for cover to duck behind, somewhere safe to drag Orion.
“Lilah. Your arm.” He holds me against his chest where he caught me, his scent thin and sharp.
A wave of nausea rolls through when I spot the blood gushing from my bullet hole.
It’s not a graze.
It goes all the way through my arm. I clap a hand over the hole. Hot blood flows between my fingers, spattering Orion’s white collar, but I can’t feel pain. Yet. “We need to get out of here.”
“Hunter! Finn!” Orion shouts over the chaos.
The alphas barrel to us.
“Babydoll.” Finn plucks me off Orion, covering my bloody wound with a broad palm. When he lifts me into his arms, bridal-style, my legs are jelly.
Finn holds me to his rumbling chest. He and Hunter sandwich Orion between them. Together, they push through the crowd, snarling at anyone who comes too close to our tight group.
I relax in Finn’s hold. I should be on guard when another assassin could pop out from anywhere to finish what he started. Maybe blood loss is already settling in because I know the guys won’t let that happen.
I know they’ve got me.
They beeline to Jett, who stands in the foyer with a handgun cocked. His gaze snaps to my bloody arm, and his lips pull back, flashing teeth. “What happened?”
“He was aiming for Orion,” I say.
“So you took a bullet for him?” Jett snarls.
Why the hell is he mad at me?
“Pretty much.” I tuck myself tighter against Finn. As my adrenaline drains, my veins fill with pain. “Do we have to talk to the police or…?”
“Fuck the police.” Finn hugs me, covering my bullet hole with surprising gentleness. “Wyvern Clinic. Now.”
“Atlas is with Dom.” Jett falls into formation, all of them making a square around me. “Fucking bastard.”
