Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 151345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Callendine smiled, but there was little humor in it. None in his eyes. This was a man who had tortured—and ordered torture—on more than one occasion. He didn’t mind. He was the type of man who ordered the deaths of two women and a child as well as burning down an establishment with the guests, police and firefighters inside in order to create a diversion for himself.
“I’ve got a lot of respect for you, Dr. Fortunes, but I can’t have you standing in the way of my mission.” He stepped back and gestured at Mills.
As Mills sprang at him, Malichai leapt into the air and kicked the man hard with his good leg, putting every bit of strength he had behind it. The man’s face imploded inward, disappearing into a mask of blood. At the same time, the door to the left flew open and Amaryllis was there, moving so fast she was a mere blur. She went for Major Salsberry, who had pulled out a weapon and was aiming it at Malichai’s head.
The two women went down just inches from where Mills thrashed on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, mouth and eyes. Callendine backed up, his weapon in his hand, but he couldn’t take the shot, as Malichai landed awkwardly on the one leg he’d kicked with, smashing into him, knocking him off-balance. When his bad leg touched down, pain spread through him like a burning torch, robbing him of breath. Of momentum. Of even his vision. Blackness swirled around him until everything went dim and he had to fight to stay conscious and in the present.
Amaryllis rolled away from the major and brought Callendine crashing to the cement floor with a scissor takedown, threading her legs through his and rolling again. Outside the storage unit, the sound of gunfire erupted. Callendine scrambled toward the door, yelling to the major. She crawled over Mills, putting his body between hers and Amaryllis.
Callendine aimed at Malichai and squeezed the trigger just as Mills reared up, throwing blind punches. He connected with Malichai just by chance. The blow glanced off his jaw and Malichai pitched sideways. The bullet from Callendine’s gun took Mills through the throat.
Major Salsberry caught at Callendine, jerking him out of the unit and into the parking lot where both the SUV that Mills had used to bring Malichai and the van were waiting. She threw herself into the driver’s seat of the SUV.
“Stay down,” she hissed at Callendine as he joined her, his weapon out, ready to help his team as they fought off Malichai’s people.
Callendine ignored her, watching as one of the unknown soldiers came flying off the roof of the storage unit, wrapping his legs around one of Callendine’s men’s neck, clearly breaking it, and then leaping off to rush at the next one. Callendine had the superior force by the numbers, but they were going to go down. The men they were fighting were too fast, too accurate and they disappeared like ghosts. He roared the signal to retreat. That was all the time he had before the major had their vehicle racing away.
Amaryllis knelt beside Malichai, running her hands over his leg. “I should have killed that bitch,” she whispered. “Who did this?”
Malichai closed his eyes, trying to absorb the pain into his body. He could hear the fight dying down outside as fast as it had begun. They had Mills’s body, but little else to figure out what the hell was going on. Nothing made sense. Absolutely nothing. He gestured toward Mills. “He has the boots on. He kicks like a mule.”
“Honey. This is bad.” There were tears in her voice.
He opened his eyes to look at her. She was beautiful. So damn beautiful. “Thanks for following, baby,” he said. He was exhausted, so tired he could barely move. “You saved my life.” He laid his head back, uncaring if blood from Mills’s body was spreading across the concrete floor. He couldn’t move. Every breath seemed forced through his lungs. Raw. Burning.
“I don’t like the way this feels, Malichai, but there’s too much negative energy swirling around this place. I need to get you out of here, even if we just make it to the parking lot.”
He wanted to try for her, but it seemed an impossible task. His leg. He wasn’t certain he could feel it anymore, and did he really care?
“Malichai.” She said his name sharply. “Look at me. I’m going to have to try to repair that tear. You’re bleeding internally and I’m not losing you. Where is Rubin? He has to be close. I can keep you safe until he gets here.”
His lashes fluttered and her face swam into his line of vision. “Sorry, baby.” He thought he said the words. He tried to lift his hand to her face, to brush away her tears, but his arm weighed a ton.