The Traitor's Bride by Alix Nichols

Author:Alix Nichols [Nichols, Alix]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

13

Adrenaline surging through his veins, Areg ripped a floorboard, blocked the door, and ducked beneath one of the windows.

The position gave him a view of the yard and allowed him to shoot through the holes in the glass. He wasn’t going to go quietly.

Not this time.

Oh, and the best part? The blaster he’d snatched on the scaffold was an advanced model. It came with night vision. Areg peered into the scope, fingering the underbelly of the gun for the stun switch.

The dogs’ barking and their masters’ voices grew louder. Flashlight beams crisscrossed the air. He counted five of them. The search squad would be bursting into the yard any minute now.

Frowning at his clumsiness with the switch, Areg flipped the blaster and inspected it. The weapon had no stun switch. With its counter showing an impressive 100 rounds, it was designed to maim and kill people—not to knock them unconscious. Equipping cops with that kind of tech was too fucked-up, even for a scumbag like Ultek.

When the crazed dogs started hitting their heads against the door, Areg whispered “Aheya help me” and took aim.

Someone gave the door a push from the other side, then another. The plank he’d propped against it gave in. A policeman in a blast-proof vest stepped inside, two large dogs growling at his feet.

Cold sweat beaded Areg’s forehead as he got the man’s right arm in the crosshairs. It wasn’t fear for his life. Getting gunned down here and now was probably the best card he’d been dealt since his arrest. What unsettled him was his inability to stop his war-honed instincts from kicking in. Those instincts and skills were about to cause him to kill a man—his compatriot—who was just following orders.

He pulled the trigger.

The cop’s shoulder exploded, splattering the floor with blood. He fell down, screaming. The dogs whimpered and backed out of the shack with their tails between their legs.

Areg lunged forward and kicked the wounded officer’s blaster away from him. Alerted by footsteps outside, he rushed back to the window, stuck the barrel of his blaster out and looked through the scope.

Two cops took cover behind a tree and started firing. A volley of shots hit the wall with a shockwave that threw him to the center of the room. Luckily, the shack’s thick walls absorbed most of the impact.

The roof turned out to be less solid. The wood screeched and cracked just as a beam fell, glancing off Areg. Sharp pain zinged through his left thigh. Making himself ignore it, he crawled back to the window and took aim.

He pulled the trigger once, twice. The shooters fell to the ground, contorting and bawling.

Beyond caring if they’d survive, Areg skidded along the wall, crawled to the opposite window, and scanned the backyard.

He spotted the dogs first and, using the scope of the blaster, he tracked two more men in the overgrown grass halfway to the outhouse. His palms were slick with sweat—or was it his own blood—as he locked the gun on the shoulder of one of the cops.

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