Page 35 of Lone Wolf

“Santiago,” I call, as she stalks toward the guy on the ground wailing and trying to crawl away. “Remember we need one alive.”

But either she can’t or won’t hear me. Her face has transformed, becoming something feral, consumed by rage. She’s no longer fighting tactically—she’s unleashed something primal and terrifying in herself.

It’s exactly the kind of thing Grandmother tried to evoke in all of her agents.

The man doesn’t stand a chance. I can only watch as Sunny drives her knife into him, striking again and again long after he stops moving. Blood sprays across her face, her hands, her chest.

“Sunny!” I hiss, moving toward her. “Sunny! He’s down. He’sdead.”

The women in the truck are screaming now, the sound echoing off the concrete walls, and I can hear people running. Syndicate? Or more Mancinis? I need to get these women out, get them safe, but I can’t leave Sunny like this.

I approach her carefully, the way you’d approach a wounded animal. “Sunny,” I repeat, gentler now. “It’s over. We need to move.”

She looks up at me, her face streaked with blood, eyes so lost it makes my chest ache. For a moment, she doesn’t seem to recognize me. Then clarity returns, horror dawning as she looks down at her blood-soaked hands.

“I—” she starts, but breaks off as new people arrive on the scene. I whirl on them, gun raised, then drop it immediately as I see my fellow Syndicate members, led by Scarlett. She stands there, taking in the carnage. Her gaze moves from the brutalized bodies to Sunny, still crouched over her victim, to the terrified women in the truck.

“What the fuck happened here?” she demands, weapon still raised.

I make my decision in an instant. “I lost control,” I say, stepping forward. “Santiago tried to stop me.”

Scarlett looks skeptical. “You?Lost control?”

I wipe other men’s blood from my face, smearing it deliberately. “Old habits,” I say flatly. “Grandmother’s training…it comes back sometimes. Surely you of all people should understand that.”

Scarlett looks at me. And then at Sunny. And then she moves to the truck.

“These women need medical attention,” she says, all business. “And we need to clear the rest of the building, make sure there are no others.” She touches the comm in her ear. “We’ve secured a clutch of hostages, first floor. Extracting now.”

While she coordinates with the rest of the team, I move to Sunny, who hasn’t risen from her position on the floor. I crouch beside her, keeping my voice low.

“Get it together,” I tell her. “We’re not done yet.”

She looks up at me, confusion in her eyes. “Why?” she whispers. “Why did you?—”

“Right now, these women need you to be functional. Can you do that?”

Something shifts in her face—a return of the determined woman I’ve come to know. She nods once, rising shakily to her feet.

“Good,” I say. “Let’s get them ready to move.”

As we begin helping them down from the truck, I feel Sunny’s eyes on me. I don’t look back at her. I don’t want to see the gratitude there, or worse, the understanding. I don’t want to examine why I stepped in, why I took the blame.

I tell myself it’s about the mission. About the Syndicate’s reputation. About keeping these women calm as we lead them to safety.

But even as I think it, I know it’s a lie.

I just couldn’t stand to see Sunny Santiago punished.

CHAPTER 13

Sunny

The rain continuesto fall as our convoy finally pulls back into Elysium. I’m soaked to the bone, my clothes filthy with blood that isn’t mine, and I can’t stop my hands from shaking.

I’ve killed before. That’s not new. But never likethat. Never with that kind of... I don’t even know what to call it. Rage? Madness? Something darker that I didn’t know lived inside me until I saw those women—girls, some of them—huddled in that truck like animals.

I close my eyes as the SUV rolls to a stop, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest. I should be proud. We saved lives tonight. But all I can think about is the look on Ariadne’s face when she pulled me off that man’s body.

---