Page 76 of Sapphires and Snakes
“Got it,” Darius’s voice comes from the hallway.
Pat shoves Marcus forward, and he stumbles. I let him lead the way, keeping my gun trained on his head and my knife at his kidney. Tamayo follows behind me.
Her hand hovers at the small of my back, like she wants to touch me but is holding herself back. Whether because of the ambiguity of our relationship or because she doesn’t want to distract me, I don’t know. All I know is she could have stayed in the library with my parents and I would still be distracted by her presence.
“Hold fire!” Darius yells ahead.
It doesn’t do much. The barrage continues in short bursts, like everyone is hunkered down and only shooting when they catch a glimpse of their target.
“Tell them, Marcus.” I dig my knife harder into his suit jacket, the fabric giving way under the sharpened blade. “Tell them to stand down.”
He grits his teeth.
“Tell them you failed,” I taunt.
I watch his whole body clench, ready to lunge for my throat. But he holds himself back. Barely. And that micro-movement stretches my smirk into a wide, beaming grin.
“Accardis!” he yells. “Cessate il fuoco!”
The house is quiet again, save for the shuffle of feet and labored groans from injured bodies.
“Gallos, our guests are leaving,” I call.
We round the corner to stand at the top of the grand staircase in the foyer. Darius stands on the second landing amongst shattered crystal from the chandelier, dirt spilled from a few of the potted plants, and a body folded into the wrong shape. I let Pat, Darius, and Tamayo take in the rest, unwilling to allow more than a cursory distraction from Marcus at the end of my weapons.
We stand at the top of the stairs, blood and destruction surrounding us. Gallos and Accardis peek out from where they’ve taken cover. I stand beside Marcus, changing my smile to something more beatific than conniving.
“Marcus Accardi has agreed to leave peacefully with his men,” I speak loud and clear. “Accardis, gather your injured. Marcus and I will follow.”
No one moves. I cock my head and shove my gun forward until it’s pressed against Marcus’s cheek, indenting the skin.
Marcus snaps, “Fuckin’ move!”
His men scramble to obey—only a few are still able—each of them throwing me nasty looks, which only make me sneer. They support their injured comrades as they line up at the door, waiting for their prince to accompany them in their defeated retreat.
I keep my gun hard against Marcus’s cheek, my knife poised against his kidney, as he and I descend the stairs. He growls low in his throat, hating every moment of this while I could be purring with the relish warming my body from the inside out.
“I’ll be back.” Caustic words spill from his lips. “I’ll get what’s mine.”
“You just might,” I murmur as I halt on the final step. I drag my knife down his hip. “But the game has changed—there’s a whole new board now. And you and Alonso are not known for your… flexibility.”
And then I smack his ass with the flat of my blade as I shove him forward, off the steps. He slides on the tile, almost tipping heels over head, but catches himself at the last second with an angry huff.
He yanks at his suit jacket, buttoning it closed and pulling his cuffs out from under his sleeves. I watch as he rolls his shoulders, striding for his men. He must give them a specifically terrifying look, because they all jump into action, one pulling the door open to show a calm, winter wonderland outside. Their SUVs are coated with a layer of packed snow after only an hour inside.
Cold wind sweeps inside my robe, but I don’t flinch. I keep my gun trained on Marcus’s head as his men file out of my house and into their cars. He stands in the doorway, studying the scene, my house, and finally me.
“I’ll be seeing you.” He smirks.
Two hours ago, those words might have sparked dread in me. But now, it only makes me want to laugh. So I do. I laugh with absolute fucking mirth, eyes scrunched and head thrown back. And Marcus’s face loses the little confidence it had gained.
I let a feral smile take over my lips. “God, I hope so.”
TAMAYO
The moment the door slams shut, Zarina slumps against it. The Gallos in the foyer set to gathering their injured, helping them toward wherever the infirmary is. They don’t spare Darius and me more than cursory scowls, like they’d much rather be watching our backs walk out the front door. I don’t have attention for them, either.
My entire body is yearning toward the woman in front of me.