Page 188 of Protecting You

It creaked open. A figure moved into the gap.

Callan peeked at Ghazi in time to see him swing the gun toward whoever was coming inside.

Callan took aim at the man who’d tried to kill Peri—and thousands of other souls.

Who’d tracked the Wrights and a double-agent across continents on his quest for revenge.

Who’d ordered Alyssa’s murder.

Who was, after all, just flesh and blood.

Callan fired.

And that flesh-and-blood enemy went down.

Prepared to shoot him again, Callan crossed the space and stood over Ghazi. The bullet had ripped through his chest, and blood oozed, turning his gray shirt red and shiny.

He was still alive.

Callan grabbed a towel and pressed it to the wound. Not that he wanted to save him, but the man’s life belonged to God.

Ghazi glared at Callan, nothing but hate in his expression. And then his eyes dulled.

And he was gone.

CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN

Alyssa's world was dark and heavy and painful.

From far away, someone said, “He killed her, Daddy. She’s dead. She’s dead.”

Who was dead?

Had she heard right? The sounds were strangely muffled.

A howl, long and tortured, twisted something inside her.

All was not well. She didn’t know what had happened, but somehow, it was her fault.

She’d failed. Again.

With that thought, she drifted away.

Hammering.

Someone was hammering, and each bang pounded in her head.

Wake up.

She had to figure out what was going on.

Where was she? What was she supposed to do?

Something, something vital. Something…

Scraping sounds. Voices.

“Daddy.” A little girl. She sounded like she was crying.

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