Rafe slips forward into the shadows ahead, his eyes focused and lethal. He disappears with his gun at the ready. I stand frozen in the corridor, fingers trembling at my sides. I press my back to the wall, suddenly sick, knowing what Rafe is walking into. I don’t move. I can barelybreathe. Every second stretches, my pulse roaring in my ears. Then—
A door slams somewhere, echoing through the quiet halls.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
My chest jumps, my stomach dropping. Something heavy hits the floor. I recoil when my earpiece screeches for a moment. Then a rush of sounds: grunts, a scuffle, boots dragging against the floor, the hard smack of flesh. Fighting.
Rafe. Iknowit’s him. My hands keep me steady against the wall as I peek around the corner where he disappeared to. Behind the door, there’s a sudden loud, sickeningthud. Bilecrawls up my throat when I see blood seeping from beneath a door.
I immediately collapse, pressing my hands to the floor, nails scraping the stone.
No, no, no.
My mind screams to run, to dosomething, but I can’t. I’m frozen, every muscle refusing to obey what I know I need to do.Run.
Then I hear the unmistakable horror of a body being dragged across a floor, followed by a choked sound.
“Rafe,” I whisper into the comm, voice raw. “No. No, no, no—”
“Emma, get out of there,” Nico growls. “I can’t see inside the room. I don’t know what’s going on. Get away from there.”
My stomach twists in knots, my thoughts smashing against the raw, primal panic that curls inside me. “Do you think he’s—”
“Move!” he yells now.
He can’t be gone.
I close my eyes, rocking back on my heels, trying to force myself to remember what to do. My fingers dig into the marble in my panic-fueled desperation. I tell myself to breathe. One slow inhale. One slow exhale.
But Ican’t.
Damn it.
My legs finally move on instinct, carrying me into the dining hall and toward the stage. The music pounds between sets, bass shaking the floor beneath my bare feet. I suddenly realize that I left my heels back in the house. Everyone is still laughing and dancing, oblivious to the gunfire that just took place in the next building. Oblivious to the horror and the sound of my heart breaking.
Jude’s still there, perched on the edge of the stage, vodka bottle in hand. The clear liquid swirls as he lifts it to his lips. Mythroat tightens. I clear it softly, as I approach him.I can do this. I can do this.
“Do you…take requests?” My voice carries a weak Russian accent—Adela’s teaching paying off.
He doesn’t look at me. “No,” he says flatly.
I exhale and push further, reeling from the fact that I'm actually talking to him. “Too bad. I would’ve asked you to sing something special for me.”
His eyes flick toward me, just enough to see the black bodysuit and the masquerade mask hiding half my face, but not enough to truly register. My heart is racing now, because I know we don’t have much time.
Kieran’s voice comes through the comms. “No eyes on Vaughan. Several more men coming up the back.”
“On it,” Adela replies sharply.
I take a step closer, ignoring the comms as best as I can, and the possibility that Rafe is dead. That Adela just lost her husband.
It’s all my fault.
“The song…” I start, voice trembling more than I want. I drop my accent entirely. “Is‘Right Here’by Lil Peep.”
Fear crashes through me the second he freezes, vodka paused mid-lift. His gaze snaps to me, sharp, unblinking, searching even with my face half-hidden. My heart is racing. I hold his eyes for a breath, then duck toward the exit, keeping my pace quick but quiet.
Night has fully fallen outside the windows, and the air carries a faint chill. I can feel his stare following me as I slip away. Behind me, Micah purposefully emerges into Jude’s view, eyes trained on him. Then he falls into step behind me as we reach the side exit. We’re baiting him, controlling the chase.