Dreams of Desire 5 by Cassie Wright

Author:Cassie Wright [Wright, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2014-03-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Four windows shatter inwards simultaneously. Dark clothed forms swing in through them, rappelling into the apartment in a shower of broken glass. Time slows. I scream and start to climb to my feet. Julian extends his hand to me, yelling for me to get down. The men clearly expected to surprise us, to burst in on our reunion while we were at our most comfortable, to catch us unawares and gun us down or capture us. I don't know which. I never have a chance to find out, because one thing they hadn't counted on was running into the most lethal predator straight out of New York City.

Jace St. Claire.

We're all moving slowly, forcing our way through the air as if it's congealed into honey, but not Jace. I've seen him move. I've seen him dance around men as if they were children, his speed unnatural. His body is one trained weapon, all muscle and sinew, and his reflexes are faster than a tiger's.

I see his eyes widen. The windows shatter. The men begin to swing into the living room. Jace is already moving. He surges forward, no doubt, no hesitation. Straight at one of the men, the frying pan swung from his shoulder like a machete. Its searing hot edge catches the man right across his temple. The left lens of his goggles shatter, as does the side of his head. He's not even reached the apex of his swing, still connected to his rope. Glass is still dancing on the floor as the other three men try desperately to orient themselves on our positions. Jace drops the frying pan and slides around and behind the man he's just killed. Simple as a dance step.

I stand, and get a slightly better look at the men. They're dressed in black paramilitary outfits. Goggles, knitted black caps and ski masks. Black bullet proof vests, each of them holding a machine gun in both hands.

Jace slides his arms around his man, under his arms, and grabs his machine gun where it dangles from a security cord attached to his chest. Julian dives over the breakfast table and catches me in his arms, bearing me to the ground as machine gun fire shatters the air.

I fall under Julian's protective mass, smack onto the marble floor. The machine gun fire is a riot of punishing sound. Julian rolls off me and into a crouch, only to gasp with pain and almost collapse. I steady him and look from under the table at what's going on.

Two of the other men are dead, lolling lifelessly from their rappelling cords. I turn to check on Jace, and my heart constricts. He's fallen to the ground. The wall behind him is a shattered ruin of bullet holes, and the man he'd sought to use as a shield is a shredded ruin of a corpse. But it wasn't enough.

Because no matter how fast and strong and dangerous you are, there is nothing you can do against hundreds of high caliber bullets.

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