Page 48 of King of Omen

I froze when a movement caught my eye, the shift of dark booted feet under the drapery edge in the corner of the study.

The curtain rustled, and my eyes flew up along its border to glimpse a snub-nosed revolver aimed straight at us.

Without a thought, I grabbed Lorenzo’s Sig Sauer from him.

The unsuspecting man’s grip was loose, so the weapon slid from his hands into mine as I turned.

Time slowed, my perspective narrowed, and my focus tightened as I fired seconds before the hidden assailant did the same.

My shot knocked his gun down and must have ricocheted into his flesh with a thud, followed by a grunt.

Almost at the exact time, a spit bullet from their firearm whizzed past Lorenzo’s temple and hit the far wall.

The entire curtain ripped as the assailant’s body fell forward.

Blood roared in my ears, I gasped, and Lorenzo cursed.

Mauri, although injured, launched from the couch.

Lorenzo stepped before me, acting as a shield, while Mauri lurched towards the second fallen assassin and fell on him, pinning him down.

Ragged, harsh breaths filled the air as we all took stock.

Lorenzo’s dark blue eyes dilated, chest heaving as he canted around to stare at me for a long, drawn moment.

‘The fuck?’

‘There were two of them,’ I murmured, stating the obvious.

His eyes swung to the wall where the bullet meant for his head had sunk in.

‘You don’t say?’ he muttered. ‘May I have my weapon, please?’

I swivelled to face him, heart pounding, limbs trembling, hands still raised with the gun clutched tight.

My inadvertent movement caused the barrel to face him.

‘Do you intend to use it on me?’ he murmured, arching a brow. ‘Fai del tuo meglio. Take the best crack of your life.’

The words penetrated my stupor, and I let go of the weapon so fast that he had to rush to scoop it up with a curse before it hit the floor.

Not knowing what to do with my hands, I stuffed them into my pockets.

He turned to me, eyes glittering. ‘You’re quite the shot.’

I slow-blinked and took a long inhale before responding. ‘My father taught me.’

I kept my statement spare, not wanting to say more.

Lorenzo’s eyes swept over me, blazing with unspoken emotion for a second before settling into a cold, icy glare.

Still, he managed to ask, ‘You OK?’

I raised a brow. ‘Are you?’

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me. ‘Am I? To put it mildly, I’m embracing my inner unicorn and spreading glitter everywhere I go. As for your stunt with the gun, I guess we’ll unpack that later.’

We clashed gazes, and I sensed a deep sentiment in him, edged by a sadness that floored me.

---