Page 48 of Gilded
LUKA
“ M alia!” I scream her name as she goes limp and hits the floor so hard, her head bounces off the marble. I drop to my knees with panic ripping through me. Her dress is stained with blood, but I don’t know if it’s hers or her father’s or one of the guards who’ve been shot. “Malia!”
Guests scream and scramble toward the exits while Xavi and Jairo keep them out of the narthex. I barely hear Malachi’s voice as he elbows me away from Malia. “Move over, boss.”
His experience as an army medic far outweighs my knowledge, and I move to her head and cradle her in my lap, wiping blood from her face. “Malia, baby, wake up. They’re gone. You’re free.”
Malachi presses his fingers to her neck. “Strong and steady.”
Then he checks her body, starting at her head and palpating to her feet. “I don’t think she was hit, but this damn dress could be hiding a lot.”
He pops his watch off his wrist and slides it onto Malia’s, then pushes a button. Police swarm into the cathedral. It feels like it took forever for them to get here, but it’s probably only been a few minutes.
Simms is all over the situation, and he didn’t come alone.
He’s got a handful of undercovers with him.
He’s blocked the narthex and ordered all guests to exit out the side doors.
My guys have all the living guards on the floor, hands zip-tied behind their back, and Simms orders the officers to take them to jail.
“As soon as you see the medics, send them to me,” Simms yells to a cop across the atrium. “She goes first. Be careful where you’re stepping, this floor is slippery as hell, and don’t move a fucking thing.”
I glance around for the first time since Malia went down, and I realize why it’s slippery—there’s blood everywhere.
Zeiger lies feet away from Tarik. And James lies feet away from Zeiger.
I shot them both when I took the weapon from Tarik.
Xavi and Malachi shot Toby and Tim, the guards who pulled weapons.
The others were taken to the ground by Diallo and Roux, who closed in when I entered the narthex. Along with Simms.
The watch beeps, and I read the high blood pressure and heart rate on the display.
“Probably a panic attack,” Malachi says, taking the watch back. “If this was her blood,” he says, referencing the quarts covering the floor, “her BP would be in the basement.”
I close my eyes, lower my head, and exhale hard, pressing my face to Malia’s hair. “Thank God. He really is looking out for you, love.”
More cops arrive and handle crowd control. The street is lined with police cars and gawkers.
Jairo stands over us. “Is she okay?”
“I think so. At least physically.”
“She’s going to come around any minute.” Malachi stands and turns to the medics coming up the stairs. “Here.”
They enter the atrium, and their eyes go wide as they take in the scene. By the time they get Malia on the gurney, she’s trying to come around.
“I’m going with her,” I tell no one in particular.
“We need to talk,” Simms says, standing back, arms crossed.
“We will. After she’s settled.”
He shakes his head. “She’s fucking lucky I was here to see what happened.”
“Right. I’m sure she feels like the luckiest person on the planet right now.”
As I head out to the ambulance, Swag’s voice fills my ear. “This sucks. I hate missing all the action. Jairo, you’re flying every mission for the next year.”
“Bro,” Jairo responds, “you lost rock, paper, scissors. Take it like a man.”