The soldier didn’t so much as glance at him, already dismissing him as a threat. He smirked at Pepper. “I’ve been wanting to meet up with you again. This time it isn’t going to end the way it did last time.”
She kept gliding backward, drawing the soldier toward her and away from Malichai. “You mean when I wiped up the floor with you? Is that what this is, Pierre, revenge? You and the others? All seven of you?”
Pierre spit on the roof and kept walking toward her. “We agreed whichever got to you first got to keep you.”
Pepper didn’t so much as glance at Malichai when she reached for him. Can you get off the roof? Slide down the side, if you can. I’ll keep him busy until you’re safely away.
Wyatt will kill me if I leave you alone with that monster. He tried to move and nearly panicked. His body felt paralyzed. No matter what his brain said, he couldn’t get on his feet.
Without warning, his brother was there, coming up over the side of the roof, one arm hooking around Malichai’s chest, under his arms and then he was over Ezekiel’s shoulder and Zeke was dragging him right off the roof. Leaving her. Pepper. Wyatt’s woman. Alone with the hyped-up monster.
The moment Ezekiel had Malichai safe, Pepper moved with blurring speed, racing straight at Pierre, the man who would take her children, probably kill them and then do whatever he wanted to her. At the last minute, when he’d braced himself, ready for her, she took a dive, sliding under him, slamming her blade into him and continuing on to the other side of the roof and then over.
She heard him scream, a terrible, ugly sound she was certain she would never forget, but she landed softly, on the balls of her feet and raced around toward the back of the house where she knew the other three soldiers were working their way through Trap’s intense security system.
Wyatt caught a glimpse of Pepper running fast, using her crazy speed even he couldn’t match, tearing around the corner of the house and out of his view. He sprinted after her and his speed wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Zeke, how bad?
Nonny’s helping me with him. It’s bad. He’s losing a lot of blood. I’m putting a line in him now.
They were all medics. Damn good medics, and Wyatt counted on the fact that Ezekiel had been looking out for his younger brothers his entire life. He rounded the corner of the building and skidded to a halt. Pepper was in the arms of one of the soldiers and she wasn’t fighting. Her arms were around his neck, her face nestled into his shoulder.
What the fuck, Pepper? Fury shook him. What the hell was she playing at?
Pepper stepped back and removed the guns from the soldier’s hands, still looking up into his eyes as if he was the only man in her world. The soldier’s mouth opened wide. He put out his hand toward her. She took it. Wyatt’s entire body stiffened. Coiled tight. He pulled out his knife.
Don’t be a fool. That was Trap. She’s working. Get to work yourself.
Trap moved past him, continued past Pepper, who never took her eyes from the soldier. Or dropped his hand. They just stared at each other. Wyatt realized Pepper’s eyes could mesmerize, hypnotize. The eyes of the cobra, but more. The soldier was drowning in her eyes, lost in the stars in her night-filled gaze. His legs went out from under him and he went to his knees. She didn’t let go. She stepped even closer and touched his face, holding his hand the entire time.
Movement to her left had Wyatt moving, shooting as he ran. The soldier coming toward Pepper, his semiautomatic in his arms, staggered back, the bullets spitting all around Pepper. She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge there was anyone but the man on his knees in front of her.
Wyatt kept shooting even when his target hit the ground. He stood over the soldier, yanked his weapons away and sent up a silent prayer the man was really dead. It was nearly impossible to tell anymore.
Trap hit the nearest soldier with both feet, driving him back and away from Pepper. He hit him hard, with every bit of enhanced strength he had. The soldier went flying, and he heard an audible, satisfying crack. Still, every bone in his body was jarred on impact, as if he’d kicked a steel wall.
He fell heavily, the breath knocked out of him. Almost immediately the other soldier loomed over him, weapon out, pointed straight at his heart. Trap actually saw him squeezing the trigger. Time slowed so that every small detail was etched into his mind. He knew he’d die that way, seeing it coming without a damned thing he could do about it. He got his hands under him to launch himself in the air, but the finger was already squeezing.