Friendly Fire: A Darkly Snarky Urban Fantasy Thriller (Hound of Hades Book 8) by Zoe Cannon

Author:Zoe Cannon [Cannon, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I could feel the danger in the air before I even reached the door to Lissa’s room. This wasn’t the usual steady hum of hovering flames. It was a scream of fire biting at my skin in a dozen places. It was a cacophony of whispers, drowning out my thoughts. I had my gun in my hands before I realized I had reached for it.

I eyed the door for a few seconds, debating the best approach. I settled for easing it open and peeking the gun barrel through as I scanned the room with one eye, searching for the enemy.

“All the way in,” a nervous voice ordered. “And put the gun down. Or I’ll kill them both.”

She stepped into view. She was wearing the nurse getup again. So much for hospital security. She had a syringe in one hand, hovering a finger’s width from Lissa’s arm. Lissa was lying still, awake but quiet, not calling out to Hades. The enemy was holding her gun in her other hand, and as I took in the sight, I had to spare a second to cringe. Forget shooting, she didn’t even know how to hold a weapon properly. Ravi probably could have gotten it away from her by now, if she didn’t have him handcuffed to one leg of the cabinet that was bolted to the wall.

He was undoubtedly capable of ripping the cabinet free, like I had in order to block the door to Lissa’s previous room. But he hadn’t done it. Which meant he must have figured out that it would draw attention, and that even as incompetent as she was, she would be able to put a bullet into him before he got to her. Good for him. Some of my lessons must have penetrated his thick skull after all.

The woman didn’t know what she was doing. If I hadn’t known that already, one look at her now would have made it painfully obvious. She was focused on too many threats at once, her eyes darting from me to Lissa to Ravi and back again. Her hands were sweating; the syringe was going to slip from her fingers any minute now. And judging by the way she was handling that gun, the only reason she had any prayer of hitting Ravi was that he was less than three feet away from her. Even then, her chances hovered around sixty percent. Come to think of it, why bother with the syringe at all? With Ravi restrained, why not just point the gun at Lissa’s head?

But incompetent or not, she had the upper hand. I knew it, and most importantly, so did she.

I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. I set the gun down on the floor and—as much as it pained me to do it, knowing how she was likely to handle my baby—slid it across the floor to her. She stopped it with her foot, and kicked it under Lissa’s bed so hard that I sucked in air through my teeth.

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