Page 113 of Edge of Darkness (Night Prowler 4)
“Are you—Jesus, your face. Baby, what did he do to you?”
“I’m fine! It’s worse than it looks—my hands—”
He saw her bound wrists, removed a folding knife from a pocket of his cargo pants and, in one quick move, cut the plastic zip tie. She moaned as her hands slipped forward and sensation came flooding back into her numb arms.
He touched her face and growled, “Get off the boat! Jump off the back—swim—we’ll talk about your stupid fucking plan later—”
“It was your stupid plan first! And I can’t swim!”
At his look of disbelief, Ember said, “I grew up in Taos, for God’s sake. It’s seven thousand feet above sea level! Nobody even had a pool!”
But he didn’t respond to that. He’d frozen, and was staring in what looked like horror at her face. At the blood smeared all over her broken nose, mouth, and chin.
“I told you, it’s not as bad as it looks—”
He knocked aside the hand Ember covered her nose with, put his face nearer to hers and inhaled. Then he jerked back as if
she’d stabbed him. He went pale. His eyes burned with some unidentifiable emotion.
Without another word, he lifted her in his arms and took off through the living area, headed to the stern of the yacht.
Just as they flew through the open glass doors to the rear patio and stepped onto the teak deck out into the cool night air, they were hit by something hard from behind, and they went down.
Christian landed on top of her, but immediately rolled off and started fighting with Nico, who’d jumped on his back. They rolled over and over on the polished teak deck, punching and hissing savagely as they went, until they hit the low deck wall with a muffled boom, and Christian gained the advantage. In one blinding motion, he was atop Nico, pummeling him in the face with his fists.
Across the deck, a slender, silver shape rolled toward Ember and came to rest only inches away.
Her mouth fell open. Her lungs stopped working. Her heart jumped up into her throat.
The detonator. Nico must have been carrying it.
“Jump, Ember, jump! I’m right behind you!” Christian screamed, still punching Nico, who was barely managing to keep his arms in front of his face to ward off Christian’s blows.
But then Caesar appeared in the doorway. Ember snatched up the detonator and hid it behind her back.
In his hand Caesar held a gun. Which he pointed directly at Christian.
“Stop!” he shouted.
Christian froze, looked up at him, and his lips peeled back over his teeth. “A dozen bullets won’t stop me from taking you down,” he growled, murder in his eyes. Nico lay bloody and unmoving beneath him.
“Okay,” said Caesar mildly, “but this might.” Then he turned the gun to Ember and smiled.
Everything screeched to a halt. Her heartbeat, her thought processes, time itself.
Christian’s livid face burned with hatred. “Son of a—”
“Very smart man, as it turns out,” Caesar interrupted. He slowly moved closer to Ember, all the while keeping the gun pointed right at her head. “I never really got it when he was alive, but my father was truly a genius. Farsighted in a way I can now respect.” His smile turned mocking. “Unlike you.”
He’d reached Ember’s side. Without looking away from Christian, he said, “On your feet, rabbit,” and waved the gun.
Shaking uncontrollably, Ember stood. Caesar reached out and pulled her against him with a hand fisted in her hair. She cried out but he silenced her by shoving the gun against her cheek and growling into her ear, “Another noise and I’ll blow your head off. But I’ll blow his head off first so you can watch.”
By now they were perhaps half a mile away from the docks. Barcelona burned bright against the dark hills that rose up from the sea. Wind whipped Ember’s hair into her face and salt spray stung her eyes. The gun was cold and hard against her cheekbone.
“On your feet,” Caesar directed Christian. With a grim glance at her face, Christian complied.
And Ember saw what was coming.
