Page 71 of Forbidden Empire

Not much, but I could work with it.

Something in my head snapped into survival mode. The zip ties had left angry red welts on my wrists, and as I pressed my ear against the door, my heart pounded so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. One breath. Two. Nothing. Absolute silence beyond.

Fuck it.

My fingers were shaking as I gripped the cold metal knob, turning it millimeter by excruciating millimeter. The hinges whined—a whisper, but enough to make me freeze. A sliver of light. Then a little more.

One guard. Broad shoulders, back toward me. Pistol on his hip, black and gleaming under the washed-out fluorescents. Holster strap open. Sloppy. He shifted his weight, keys jingling on his belt. Scratched the side of his neck. No clue I was even there.

The razor felt pathetically fragile between my fingers as I stepped into the room. Three careful steps. Bare feet againstfreezing concrete. I kept my breathing shallow, steady. Close enough now to catch the cheap, pine-scented aftershave.

I rose on my toes. One arm wrapped around him for balance. The blade drew across his throat, deep and clean, opening him ear to ear. Hot blood sprayed, covering my hand, my wrist, dotting my face, warm and wet.

He convulsed, grabbing at the wound as he collapsed to his knees. He turned his head to the side, his eyes were wide, disbelieving. Then empty. The gurgle as he tried to talk. The way the light vanished as he fell forward.

I wiped my hand on my dress and grabbed the pistol from his holster. The weight of it was grounding. I ejected the magazine. Full. Popped it back in, racked the slide, safety off.

Another door. More captivity. Like Russian nesting dolls, just layers of locked rooms. I pressed my ear to the next door.

This time: voices. And then, his.

"Where the fuck is Esme, Rhea?" Aidon’s asked, clipped, cold, furious.

A jolt went through me. He came. He came for me.

I cracked the door, ready to spring out, but stopped cold at what I saw. Aidon and Rhea were in each other’s faces, and Rhea was grinning that nasty, twisted grin of hers.

Two of her men stood behind her, both of them looking pissed, blood all over their clothes, guns pointed at Aidon. His hands were up.

My heart pounded so loud I thought they’d hear it.

I had to move. Fast.

If I hesitated, Aidon and I were dead. This was one of those situations where you didn’t get a second chance.

I slid the door open and crept behind them. One shot. Then another. Both bullets went straight through the backs of their heads. They dropped like rocks.

That was all it took for Rhea to snap. She launched herself at Aidon, punching him hard as she closed in. Time practically froze as the two of them went at it.

Aidon shook off her punch, blocked the next, then slammed his elbow into her face. Her nose gushed blood, but she kept going, landing another punch on him.

They were both fighting like they’d been waiting for this.

Rhea stepped back, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then gave him this bloody, twisted sneer. And she laughed.

Aidon’s face twisted, all sharp lines and fury. “You think you can just take what’s mine?”

Rhea grinned, blood staining her lips. “Darling, I already did.”

“She was never yours to take,” he snapped, low and dangerous.

Rhea dove at him again. He knocked her fist aside, but she spun on her heel, and her boot slammed into his thigh. She landed lightly, and suddenly there was a knife in her hand, pulled from her boot like she’d done it a thousand times.

The blade caught the fluorescent light. It sliced, ripping cloth and nicking his skin; a thin red line appeared on Aidon’s thigh.

The gun felt steady in my grip. I squeezed the trigger. Rhea screamed, grabbing at her arm, blood pouring between her fingers where my bullet tore through.

I stepped forward, gun aimed right at her, finger tight on the trigger and ready to finish it.