Page 20 of The Enemy's Defector
She held the gun but proved she was out of ammo.
The masked man growled, getting up to a squatting position to charge at her again, not me. Before he could reach her, I spun and drove the knife into his back, near his kidneys. Stopping him with that impalement bought me more time. She grabbed his head, her fingers gripping his hair, as she pulled his face down at the same time she brought her knee up swiftly.
Bones crunched. His nose was broken. With the precision of her hit, she had probably killed him with the impact driving straight to his brain.
I wasn’t taking chances, though.
“His gun. Get his gun,” I ordered roughly.
She didn’t balk. She didn’t hesitate. Reaching around him as he slumped lower from the knife I’d driven into his back and her knee hit to his nose, she got his gun then pressed it to his head.
Turning slightly with a wince, she pulled the trigger and ensured he was dead.
Lights turned on, nearly blinding me. Footsteps pounded overhead. More men were coming, and this rescue wasn’t going to end well if we didn’t bolt.
“Let’s go,” she said, grimacing with what seemed like a great effort to talk with a dry throat.
As I let the man drop, I held onto her knife. Handing it to her, I stared into those soulful blue eyes that I worried I’d never see again. Those dark, oceanic azure eyes I wanted to gaze at and know she was the other half of my soul.
Trusting her with this complete shock and surprise at seeing herhere, of all places, I willed her to cut the ropes on my wrists so I could finish protecting her.
With a guarded, worried frown, she took the blade and sawed at the rope with fear shining in her eyes as the sounds of footsteps increased.
“We’re trapped,” she said.
“No.” I watched as she worked on cutting the rope.
“I came down the only stairs,” she argued.
“But there’s a ramp, too. That’s how I was brought in.”
“But—”
I lifted my face to glare at her. Arguing had always come way too fucking easily for us. But now wasnotthe time for it. Thrusting my hands apart, I pushed the limits of the rope. The last threads snapped, and my arms were free.
Without another word, without a chance to ask a single question from the barrage of them that filled my head, I grabbed her hand and turned to run.
9
KATERINA
Between the vise grip of that man’s fingers on my neck and the clog of emotion that stayed stuck in my throat, I couldn’t fully swallow. Breathing came easier with that man dead and no longer trying to choke me. But as I ran with Nik to get the hell out of here, shallow intakes were all I could get. Every bit of air cleared more of that nauseating dizziness that swamped my head as I fought to free Nik.
Until we were out of here, though, I’d be struggling to catch up.
Nik’s fingers were sticky and grimy, but strong. He didn’t let go once, no matter how much he seemed to be hurting. Every step we took was harsh, and I worried he might be too wounded to fully run away with me like this.
“That way.” He stopped short, correcting our direction through the slight maze of tunnels and corridors underneath this cabin. A secret subterranean pathway didn’t shock me. Nor was I stunned that Nik would know the way out. As long as this man was breathing and able to form a thought, he would be spying and observing. Noticing the best exit route was instinctfor him. Paying attention to his surroundings was second nature for him.
This man was a spy and always would be. It was with that conviction that I put all my faith in him to get us out of here and away from what sounded like a stampede of men rushing after us.
Running as fast as we could, sticking together, we aimed upward. The hurry to go up this ramp felt like the race of a lifetime. The closed trap doors were so near. Too near. And I had no way to guess what could be waiting for us on the outside. With the men coming in and the gunshots I’d fired, they had to know that Nik was on the loose. No matter how many people were at the mansion, they’d be directed here.
We were literally running for our lives.
But as Nik slammed his shoulder against the diagonally propped trapdoor, the wood slimy and sticky, but solid, he winced and tried again.
I let go of his hand to position myself to join in the efforts. From watching how he braced himself, I timed the hits of my shoulder against the wood in time with his.
