Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(83)

Taviano had a bad, bad feeling in his gut. He'd learned never to ignore that warning, and the moment it was confirmed that all attackers were down, he turned and ran back down the alley to the entrance of Giordano's. Emmanuelle hadn't looked good. He hoped his radar wasn't going off because of her. He heard footsteps running behind him, glanced over his shoulder as he yanked open the door and recognized Val Saldi. Great. Half the Saldis followed, including Val's bodyguard and cousin, Dario.



Shaking his head, Taviano bent over Emmanuelle. "Got half the enemy right in this room, bella. Probably thanks to the prince's fixation with you." He whispered it to her, but he was really inspecting every inch of her. Her shoulder looked bad. Painful. She'd need an orthopedic surgeon, but the wound wasn't life-threatening. He looked around, his uneasiness growing. "Where's Giovanni?"



"Shooter across the street," Emmanuelle whispered back, her voice hoarse. "On the roof."



She hadn't even gotten upset over him calling Val "prince," or him saying their enemy, a family with a long-standing feud against them, had a fixation about her. She was hurting bad and that was more than worrisome. 



He glanced to the front of the shop. He just couldn't shake the feeling. "Has Ricco checked in?" He was already moving. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stay in that room with the smell of his sister's blood and the sight of her beautiful face twisted in pain. There were others in the front of the shop, his people, but he couldn't stay there. He had to go. Be somewhere. The feeling was so urgent, he nearly caught a shadow right in front of everyone. At the last minute, he took off running again out the back door.



The moment he was alone, he caught the first shadow leading up over the roof. As he was hurtled along, he searched the buildings across the street he was heading for. He saw his brother coming up behind the sniper. Something else. Something he was missing. Then he saw it and his heart stopped. He jumped from one shadow to the next, desperate to get there before it was too late  – already knowing it was. Heart in his throat, he gained the roof where his brother stalked the sniper.



"Shooter, shooter!" he shouted. "Move now!" He hurtled himself across the roof, yelling at Giovanni as he did so.



Giovanni had already applied the pressure necessary, snapping the neck even as he turned toward the sound of his brother's voice and then dove. There was no cover, only the shadow, and it was several feet away. A bullet tore through his left thigh, dropping him to the rooftop just a foot from his destination. It hurt like a mother, and blood geysered up like a fountain.



Taviano reached out and yanked both of his brother's arms, dragging him into the shadow as a second bullet tore through Giovanni's calf. Taviano wrapped his arms around him and slid through the tube, gaining the necessary speed. The sniper above them, shooting from two buildings away, peppered the shadows as if he knew they were using them to escape.



Giovanni bit down hard to keep from screaming. He tried to apply pressure to his leg, but the magnetic effect of the tube was too strong to do anything but let it take him. Blood flew all around them, leaving a trail and coloring Taviano's shirt red. It didn't stop his brother; Taviano took them right to the front door of the butcher shop. He halted, shifted Giovanni to his shoulder, yanked the door open and rushed inside.



Someone screamed. A bullet hit the glass door and John Balboni, owner of the hardware store, fell backward. He'd come to help and his gun was still clutched in his hand.



"Get down!" Taviano yelled, carrying Giovanni on through to the back room. "Angelina, I need you right now. It's bad."



Angelina left Emmanuelle's side and rushed to help him. They eased Giovanni to the floor. Angelina calmly applied pressure to the wound while Giovanni swore over and over. Another bullet tore into the shop and someone screamed for help. It sounded like Claretta, Berardo Giordano's wife. She yelled for someone to help her get John into the back room, that he was bleeding profusely.



"I'm getting that fucking bastard," Taviano snarled. He didn't care if the sniper was shooting into the shadows.



"No. Don't go," Emmanuelle pleaded. "We can't afford to lose anyone else."



He bent to brush a kiss on her forehead. "You know I have to go, bella." When he straightened, Val Saldi was there, his bodyguard, Dario, right behind him. They followed him out.



"What do you need, Taviano?" Val asked.



Dario was silent, his eyes on his enemy, probably ready to slit Taviano from groin to chest if he made one move on Val. Taviano wasn't about to turn down a gift horse. "A distraction. Can you move your vehicles around that building? I don't want anyone taking a chance of getting hit, but I want him worried. Packing up." The shooter was probably already doing that.