Page 15 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

"Heads up," he called to the others. "Target is five minutes out. Get ready."

No. No, no, no.

Blade was almost here. Five minutes. Not enough time to get back to the safe room, call him, and hope he answered. Not enough time for anything but direct action.

Decision made, Lily adjusted her aim. Not the propane tank. It was too risky with Blade so close. Instead, she focused on the leader's position. If she could take him out, the others might be disorganized enough for Blade to recognize the danger when he arrived.

She steadied her breathing, finger poised on the trigger. The leader was partially concealed behind a tree, only his shoulder and part of his head visible. A difficult shot, but possible.

Just like the shooting range with Dad, she told herself. Breathe in. Hold. Squeeze gently.

She fired.

The rifle's report echoed through the cabin, impossibly loud. Through the scope, she saw the leader jerk backward, blood spraying from his shoulder. It was not a kill shot, but enough to incapacitate him temporarily.

Immediately, chaos erupted. The other men dove for cover, shouting to each other, trying to determine where the shot had come from. Two returned fire blindly, bullets splintering the cabin's exterior.

Lily didn't wait to see more. She scrambled down the ladder, rifle clutched tightly, and sprinted for the back door. If she could make it to the tree line before they surrounded the cabin completely…

She burst onto the back porch, heart pounding, adrenaline surging through her veins. Twenty yards to the trees. Fifteen. Ten.

"There!" a voice shouted behind her. "The girl!"

A bullet whizzed past her ear, so close she felt the displaced air. Another struck the ground at her feet, throwing up dirt and pine needles.

She didn't look back. Couldn't afford to. Every ounce of her focus was on reaching the relative safety of the forest.

Five yards. Two. One.

She plunged into the trees, the dense foliage providing immediate cover. But she didn't stop. Couldn't stop. They would be right behind her.

Keep moving. Away from the cabin. Away from the road where Blade will arrive.

She crashed through underbrush, branches whipping her face, roots threatening to trip her with every step. Behind her, she could hear pursuit, men crashing through the forest with less care for stealth than speed.

Her lungs burned. Her injured ankle, so recently healed, throbbed with renewed pain. But fear and determination pushed her forward, deeper into the wilderness.

Just need to lose them, she thought desperately. Just need to circle around, try to intercept Blade before he reaches the cabin.

A shout from behind her was much closer than expected. They were gaining on her position.

She veered sharply left, hoping to throw them off. The ground sloped downward, becoming steeper. Her foot caught on a root and she pitched forward, tumbling down the incline in a tangle of limbs and rifle.

She landed hard in a shallow ravine, the breath knocked from her lungs. Pain lanced through her side. Her ribs were either broken or bruised. For a moment, she lay there, gasping, fighting to regain her breath.

Get up. Get up NOW.

Footsteps crashed through the forest above her. Voices called to each other, coordinating the search.

With a groan, Lily dragged herself to her feet. The rifle was gone, lost somewhere in her fall. But she still had the Glock.

She drew the handgun, checking that a round was chambered, then looked around desperately for some kind of shelter or hiding place.

The ravine extended in both directions, carved by what was now just a trickle of water but had once been a more substantial stream. She chose a direction at random and began to move, staying low, using the ravine's walls for cover.

The voices behind her faded slightly. Not gone, but not immediately on top of her either. She'd bought herself a little time.

Think, Lily. Think.

She needed to get back to the road somehow. Needed to warn Blade. But she didn't know these woods, and had no idea which direction would lead her back to civilization.

As if in answer to her unspoken dilemma, the distant rumble of an engine reached her ears. A vehicle on the road, and close.

Blade.

She scrambled up the ravine's wall, using roots and rocks as handholds. At the top, she paused, listening intently. The engine sound was louder now, definitely approaching along the main road to the cabin.

But which direction was the road?

She closed her eyes, trying to orient herself. The cabin had been to the north. The ravine had taken her... east? Maybe southeast? Which would put the road…

A branch snapped nearby. Too close.

Lily froze, pressing herself against a large pine tree. Through the foliage, she could make out a figure moving cautiously through the forest. It was one of the men, hunting her. He hadn't seen her yet, but he was heading in her direction.

She had two choices: engage or evade. Fighting would reveal her position to the others. Fleeing might lead her further from the road, further from Blade.

The engine sound grew louder. Closer. Almost to the cabin now.

No choice then.

She took a deep breath, steadied her grip on the Glock, and stepped out from behind the tree.

"Stop right there," she commanded, aiming at the hunter's chest.

The man froze, his own weapon half-raised. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other, a silent calculation passing between them.

Then he smiled, a slow, confident smile that made her blood run cold.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Quite the little wildcat, aren't you? Zeb said you'd be a handful."

"Drop your weapon," Lily ordered, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her.

"I don't think so, sweetheart," he replied, his gun now leveled at her. "How about you drop yours instead? Make this easy on yourself."

"So you can take me to Zeb?" she spat. "I know what he has planned for me."

The man shrugged. "Not my concern. I'm just the delivery boy."

"And if I refuse to be delivered?"

His smile widened. "Then I bring you in with a few more bruises than strictly necessary. Zeb wants you alive. He didn't specify what condition."

Lily's finger tightened on the trigger. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Something shifted in the man's expression, A hardening, a loss of patience, terrifying her. "Have it your way."

He lunged forward with surprising speed, batting her gun hand aside before she could fire. The Glock discharged harmlessly into the forest floor as they grappled.

He was stronger, more experienced in hand-to-hand combat. But Lily was fighting for her life, for Blade's life, and desperation lent her strength.

She drove her knee upward, connecting solidly with the man's groin. He grunted in pain, his grip loosening just enough for her to wrench free. She scrambled backward, bringing the Glock up again.

Too slow. He recovered quickly, closing the distance between them with two swift strides. His fist connected with her jaw, snapping her head back and sending her stumbling. The Glock flew from her grasp, disappearing into the underbrush.

Stars exploded behind her eyes. Copper flooded her mouth, blood from where her teeth had cut into her inner cheek. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision as the man advanced on her again.

"That was stupid," he growled, all pretense of casual confidence gone. "Now I'm going to hurt you."

Lily backed away, searching desperately for a weapon, an escape route, anything. Her heel caught on a root and she nearly fell.

The man's hand shot out, grabbing her by the throat. "Zeb's going to love breaking you," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "And I'm going to enjoy watching."

Spots danced at the edges of her vision as his grip tightened, cutting off her air. She clawed at his hand, his arm, fighting for breath.

No. Not like this. Not after everything.

With the last of her strength, she reached for the only weapon left to her, the tactical knife strapped to the vest Blade had given her. Her fingers closed around the handle, withdrew it from its sheath.

The man saw the movement too late. His eyes widened in surprise as she plunged the blade into his side, between his ribs, angling upward just as her father had taught her.

His grip on her throat loosened. A wet, gurgling sound escaped his lips. He staggered backward, looking down in disbelief at the knife protruding from his torso.

Lily gasped for air, rubbing her bruised throat as she watched him sink to his knees. Blood bubbled from his mouth, his eyes already glazing over. The knife had found his lung, possibly his heart.

She had killed a man.

The reality of it hit her like a physical blow. She had taken a life. Ended someone's existence. The fact that it was self-defense, that he had been trying to hurt her, didn't change the fundamental horror of what she'd done. Bile rose in her throat.

For a moment, she stood frozen, staring at the dead man at her feet. Then the distant sound of gunfire jolted her back to reality.

Blade.

He must have arrived at the cabin, run straight into the ambush. The remaining men had engaged him.

Ignoring the trembling in her limbs, the nausea churning in her stomach, Lily bent to retrieve the dead man's weapon. It was a Beretta, similar to the one she'd field-stripped for Blade. She checked the magazine. Nearly full.

Then, using the ringing gunfire as a guide, she began to run toward the cabin. Toward Blade. Toward danger, rather than away from it.

Because that's what you did when you cared about someone. You ran toward the fire, not away from it.

The gunfire grew louder as she neared the cabin. Through the trees, she could see muzzle flashes, could hear men shouting to each other. She slowed her approach, moving more cautiously now, trying to assess the situation before rushing in.