Page 21 of Wyatt

Wyatt sidestepped him and grabbed his arm, sending him into the wall. The man whirled and jabbed his elbow into his ear.

Wyatt’s head spun, and he stumbled, hitting the bureau.

His attacker kicked him in the chest, and he went down.

Get up, get up!

He could almost hear the chanting, voices from the past.

He rolled, found a shoe, and flung it at the attacker, scrambling to his feet just in time to ward off another hit. He landed a right—the man grunted, and Wyatt grabbed him, whirling him to the wall. The man hit the table—the vase of roses went flying, crashing in shards against the wall.

The man bounced off, grabbing Wyatt’s shirt.

Then he slammed his head into Wyatt’s and threw him back.

Wyatt stumbled, pain exploding through him, dazing him. He hit the nightstand, fell off it, blinking fast.

Had the presence of mind to get his hand around a book that had fallen and slammed it against the man’s head as he jumped on him.

It barely slowed him down.

Wyatt caught the attacker’s fist, throwing his own, kneeing the man over his head, into the nightstand.

Get up!

The lamp had fallen and he swiped it up and threw it at the attacker, who had bounced away. It smashed against the wall as he rolled away to his hands and feet.

Too late. The man jumped on his back, his arm around Wyatt’s neck, pressing against the carotid and jugular and in a second, the room dimmed.

No! He jerked back, putting everything into his movement, and his head hit the man’s face.

By the shout, he’d broken something. Hoo-yah, as Ford would say.

The man fell, and Wyatt turned and sent his fist into his face.

The man stumbled, hit the balcony door, and Wyatt threw up a protective arm as the door shattered.

The man rolled out onto the cement.

“What the—”

Jace’s voice came barreling into the room just as the man on the balcony climbed to his feet.

His face was bloodied, his nose gushing, his eyes hard.

Then he smiled and held up the USB drive.

Oh— Everything else dropped away, Jace’s shouts fading as Wyatt leaped through the door at the man.

But the thief took two steps and jumped off the balcony.

“No!” Wyatt lunged toward the edge but hands around his waist pulled him back.

“Guns—breathe!” Jace, bigger than him, holding him, dragging him to the corner of the balcony.

“He’s got the drive!”

Then Deke and Kalen were there, eyes big, Deke staring out into the night.

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