Where was her gun? Back in that blood-soaked room? Perfect time to be unarmed.
Simon grabbed her shoulder. “We’ve got to run for it,” he whispered.
That didn’t seem like the best option, but then, sitting there and waiting for the assholes with guns to come and shoot her right in the face didn’t seem like such a fine plan, either.
He pointed to the right, to a closed door. “Garage,” he mouthed.
Five feet away. Maybe six. But where were the shooters? Still outside? Or working their way in?
The faint groan of wood reached her ears. The porch was wooden. Old, faded wood. Fuck. Their attackers were getting too close.
“Go!” Simon heaved her up, moving at the same time to cover her back. Dee lunged for the door. How had they found them so quickly? How had—
Bam. Bam.
One bullet cut right across her shoulder. Sonofabitch.
Using her left hand, she jerked open the door.
Simon hit a button on the wall even as he fell into her. They tumbled down three steps, hit the concrete, hard, and staggered up in a tangle of limbs and curses.
The Mustang waited. Black coat gleaming. Dee jumped into the passenger seat even as more bullets flew. Simon took the wheel.
The garage door was opening—must have been a door control that he hit before—
“Here.” He dug under the seat. “Get those bastards off our backs.”
A gun. A sweet, black Beretta that fit perfectly in her hands.
Two assholes in black appeared, heading down the steps into the garage. Ski masks covered their faces and their guns were up.
Simon jerked the gear shift into reverse. Dee hoped the garage door was open enough.
Bullets plowed into the windshield. One. Two.
Dee shot right back. The bullet hit the guy high in the shoulder. Not a flesh wound, a deep thud of bullet into muscle and bone. And so down went one jerk in black. The other dove for cover.
“Fuck! Behind us!”
She spun around. Two more men, revealed now by the opening in the garage. Guns up. Since when did vamps hunt in the daytime? And wear ski masks?
“Hold on,” he growled and the car flew backward even faster.
Because he was aiming right for the men.
They jumped away at the last second, flying to the overgrown side of the road before the Mustang rammed them.
Simon shifted quickly. The Mustang snarled forward, horses pounding away.
Dee stared back at the men. Not giving chase. Not yet. Too busy picking their beaten butts up off the ground.
And the way Simon was driving…hell, no, they wouldn’t be following them anytime soon.
The Mustang was easily pushing one hundred on the long, empty stretch of road.
Dee took a deep breath. The first she’d had since she’d risen from her cover in his den. Her shoulder burned like a bitch. Carefully, she unlocked her white knuckled grip and clicked on the gun’s safety before she put in on the floor-board.
Wincing, she touched the wound. Okay. A lot of blood, but the bullet hadn’t gone in the shoulder, just grazed her. No big damage. She’d keep living.
Dee eyed Simon. “Are you hit?”
He growled at her. Seriously, growled.
Dee reached for him. “Simon?”
His head jerked toward her. “Back off.” His teeth snapped together.
What? Her hand hovered in the air between them.
He shook his head even as his knuckles whitened around the wheel. “Don’t touch me now.”
Her fingers fisted, then fell. “I-I didn’t think someone would come after me.” Not so quickly. But, hell, she should have known. Someone could have easily followed her and Simon from that death pit.
And that someone had wrecked his house. Nearly killed him.
Yeah, because all that will put a smile on a guy’s face. No wonder he was growling at her. She’d just brought her usual death and danger into the guy’s life.
“You didn’t ask for this,” she said, even as she glanced back to make sure they still weren’t being followed. This time, she was alert enough to spot a tail. Being unconscious had really slowed down her game before. “I-I’ll contact Zane at the first safe stop. Get him to come for me and—”
“The hell you will.” Guttural, but without the dark fury of before.
“Dammit, don’t you see what being with me is doing to you?” He had to see it. “Those bastards were after me, Simon, they wanted—”
“Fuck what they wanted.” He spared her a burning glance. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
What?
He shifted in his seat, flinching a bit. “And those weren’t vampires, babe. Since when do vamps hunt in the daylight? And use guns on prey?”
Hardly ever. Vamps didn’t explode in the sunlight. That was just some BS myth Hollywood had invented. Good old Bram had been right when he’d said that vampires could walk in the daylight. They were just weaker in the hours of light—human weak. Dee had always figured Bram must’ve had the inside track on the vamps.