Page 36 of Lone Spy (Starstruck Thrillers #2)

Chapter Thirty-One

Ash stands on the far side of my bed, the gold dress I wore last night in his hands, my suitcase open in front of him. "We need to go. Now."

Weak late afternoon sun pours in the large windows, casting the space in light gray. A fire crackles in the hearth. He pushes the dress into the bag roughly.

"Alesana is getting the car." His eyes look past me. "Close the door."

"What’s going on?" I ask, glancing into the hall as paranoia crawls up my spine. There is no one there—Hamish intercepted Victoria and me as we came in and she went to take a call.

"I will explain everything once we are on the way. Get your toiletries." I don't move. His jaw tightens. This poor man's teeth. "Now." It's not a bark but it's not not a bark.

"Ash—"

He cuts me off. "Angela. Please. Just listen."

Fine. I start for the bathroom. Less than ten minutes later we are walking down the wide stairs. "I can't just leave without saying goodbye," I argue.

"They will understand."

Hamish appears at the bottom of the steps like an apparition. I stop short and let out a yelp of surprise that echoes in the large space. "Ms. Daniels, are you leaving us so soon?"

"We have an emergency situation," Ash says. He's on the step behind me, looming. He shifts, pressuring me to continue down. I do.

"Please tell Victo—her royal highness. All the royal highnesses." Wow, this is coming out super chill and awesome. "That I had to go. I will call them…"

Hamish's expression does not change. It's as set as the statues behind him. "Allow me to escort you to your vehicle."

"Oh, sure." I smile. It feels wooden. Get it together. Pick a part and play it. Pulling in a breath, I search for who I want to be in this moment. This moment of fleeing.

Martin's prone form and the blood lust I felt in that ambulance rises up, banishing the fear, and wrapping me in a cloak of craving. My steps become surer as I reach the bottom of the stairs. Hamish turns toward the exit, his hard-soled shoes echoing in the large foyer.

I follow him, the veiled female figures in their alcoves seeming to watch me go—watch me stalk. If I wanted to, I could kill Hamish. Wrap my forearm across his neck and grip my opposite arm, I could make him sleep. Then keep holding until his brain died and heart stopped beating. If I wanted to…

Alesana drives. Ash sits in the back with me. “What’s going on?” I ask as we pull down the drive in the SUV we arrived in.

“The queen is dead,” Ash answers.

I suck in a sharp breath. “Ben said she was doing…” Well, of course he did. Why would he tell me, a practical stranger, that Victoria’s grandmother was on death’s door?

Ash’s body is angled toward me, his focus on my face, gaze tracing from my eyes to my parted lips. “I don’t have many details, just that she passed.”

“That must be the call Victoria received when we came back.” I lean back into the leather seat. Poor Victoria.

“Probably.”

“But wait,” I look back at Ash. “Why do we have to leave?” I shake my head. “Why does the queen’s death mean we need to run?”

Ash holds my gaze. The large gates part for us and we pass through, but don’t turn to cross the bridge we came in on, instead continuing straight, following the river.

“I no longer have faith in the Crown’s ability to keep you safe.”

“Do you mean they don ’ t want to keep me safe?” I ask, Temperance’s warnings about Linda and her lieutenants echoing in my mind . Yet.

Ash’s eyes widen. I turn to look behind me, but before I can see anything the entire world becomes shattered glass and crunching metal as another vehicle smashes into our front end.

My body tries to bend with the forces, but I can't keep up.

The seatbelt burns across my body as we tumble down the river bank.

Up is down, down is up, and then we hit the water.

The river surges through broken windows, ice cold and chaotic. I'm upside down, held in place by the seatbelt. Until I'm not. It releases and I fall, body crumpling into the water pooling in the roof’s interior, arms up just in time to protect my head.

I'm moving, twisting, reorienting to this upside-down world. Mouth above the roiling river. Instincts drive me, sensations dulled. An arm around my waist. Ash's voice hot on my ear. "The water isn't deep." It's climbing up my body. Waist, breast line. "They will be waiting to shoot us."

My teeth are chattering but I don't feel the cold.

"Swim out, but stay close to the side of the vehicle. Grab for the wheel well. The current is strong. Don’t let it take you. I'll be right behind you."

His arm stays around me as Ash kicks at the broken window, making the opening wider. Then he's pushing me toward it. Hands on my back, helping my momentum.

I suck in a deep breath then dive, hands grabbing at the frame. Passing through the window, I twist to keep hold of the vehicle as I pull my legs into the current. Ash won’t fit through that space. How will he get out?

My lungs burn. Kicking, my booted feet heavy, I curl my fingers into the back wheel well and my head breaches the water.

The SUV is nose down, the back end sticking out. I’m on the far side, the road we were pushed off obscured by our vehicle. It seems to be stabilized. My feet kick against a hard surface but when I seek purchase it’s a slippery boulder, not the flat bottom of the river.

Behind the tinted windows I can make out movement inside. Ash must be looking for another way out. Is Alesana okay? A strong kick at the back windshield shatters it, cubes of glass tinkling into the water.

The SUV shakes with impact as bullets smash into it. The assault pauses. Ash pops up, firing at the shore I can’t see, then ducks back into the SUV’s rear storage area as bullets rain again.

My jeans, sweater, jacket and boots drag at me as I pull myself with quickly numbing fingers toward the side of the vehicle to try to see what the fuck is going on.

Peeking around the edge, I see there is an SUV eerily similar to ours, the front smashed from when it hit us, driver and passenger doors open, two men crouched behind them.

A man pops up and fires at us again. I recognize him with a jolt.

Martin.

My heart thunders in my ears, almost as loud as the rushing water. He’s not wearing his glasses, but the dull light is glinting off his auburn hair.

Ash fires again and the men duck behind their open doors.

Ash hauls himself through the back window and drops into the water with a splash.

He disappears under the rushing, brown water for a brief moment before breaking the surface, water streaming off his shorn head.

With one strong stroke he grabs onto the SUV.

Seeing me, he frowns. Reaching out a long arm, Ash grabs my sleeve and drags me back to the wheel well. “Stay here,” he orders, gripping the SUV with one hand, the other holding his gun above the water.

A black backpack lands in the water—it must have been thrown out by Alesana—thank god he’s okay! Ash lets go of the SUV to grab one of the handles, slipping it down his arm so he can hold on again. His body brushes mine as he maneuvers past me, heading to the vantage point I was using.

He fires off several shots and Alesana splashes into the river. His eyes meet mine and he grins at me, a dimple popping, as he joins me at the wheel well. “Your hair is messed up.”

I choke on a laugh. Alesana slips past me and takes the bag from Ash, settling it onto his back while a fresh wave of bullets shakes the half-submerged vehicle.

Ash moves back to me, his body pressing against mine—a wall of warmth in a world of cold.

“We have movement,” Alesana says. “Red is moving.”

“He’s from the ambulance,” I say, meeting Ash’s gaze. He ’ s the one I wanted to kill.

Bullets explode into the water. Alesana fires back.

Martin has moved up the shore to gain a better vantage point.

A suspension footbridge is another thirty yards away—once he crosses it we won’t have any cover.

Ash’s gaze travels to the forested shore opposite our attackers. “Can you make it?” he asks me.

“Yes.” The word comes out garbled, my body already struggling to function in the cold water. My boots are laced and will have to stay on but I wriggle free of my jacket. The oilskin coat sinks as I release it.

“On three,” Ash says, his eyes holding mine. I nod.

“One, two, three.” Alesana starts to shoot as we kick off the SUV, moving toward the shore opposite the road. The current carries us downstream, away from the bridge and our would-be assassins. My legs feel leaden, the cold water numbing them and my wet jeans dragging.

I slip under for a brief moment but surge back to the surface, fear and desperation renewing my strength. I’m not going to drown in a fucking shallow river!

Ash’s arm comes around my waist and he pulls me close. He can stand now. Maneuvering me in front of him, he pushes me toward the shore. Bullets strike the water around us, and Ash makes a sharp sound as my feet find purchase on the river bottom.

I turn back to look, but Ash pushes me forward, forcing me to watch where I’m going. “Get to the tree line.” His voice is tight with pain. Was he shot?

We splash up the bank and digging my hands into the cold, damp soil, I start to climb up to where the trees grow thick and solid. One of Ash’s hands lands on my ass, helping me up the steep incline.

The firing stops as we reach the cover of the trees. I lean against a thick trunk, panting. Ash joins me, his chest also heaving from the exertion. My teeth chatter and the wind brushing against my wet clothing leeches more warmth from my body.

“Take off your clothes,” Ash says. “They will pull heat. Better to have less on.”

“I will if you give me a gun.”

Ash nods. “On my left hip.” He pushes off the tree and stands in front of me, close enough that we are both still protected by the tree. Blood soaks the left sleeve of his coat, mixing with the water so that his entire arm is dripping in a pink cast.

“You’re shot.”

“Take the gun.”