The Dragon's Wing (Kit Davenport #2)

“Sorry,” he muttered once we were clear of the partygoers. “My esteemed father was watching us. I didn't want to raise his suspicions. He already thinks I am a failure as a crime lord; the last thing I need is him finding out I helped you escape when there is seven million dollars resting on your head.”

“Fair enough,” I panted, breathless and not sure if it was from practically running in high heels or from his kiss, because holy wow.

“Here,” he announced after tugging me down who knew how many different corridors and a short narrow staircase. “Your helper will be here any second to get you out. I have to go back to the party so that no one suspects I had anything to do with this. I don't need that extra kind of scrutiny on me at the moment.”

“Understood. Thank you… for um, you know. Saving me.” My gratitude was awkward because while he had definitely saved me from Mr. Grey's clutches, twice now, he was also a murdering criminal who, from what I had learned tonight, was involved in everything from drugs to prostitution to money laundering.

“I doubt this is the last time I'll be seeing you, drag?.” He looked across the underground car park behind me and tipped his head to someone. “Your friend is here. Good luck.” He dropped a very gentlemanly kiss on my hand, then took off back the way we had come.

“Kit, let's move! We're late!” A familiar voice echoed across the concrete garage to me, and I grinned.

“Jonathan?” I hurried over to where he stood with one other man who was clearly an Omega Agent. “How the hell? What?”

“I will explain on the way home, the best I can. Right now, we need to get going while everyone is moderately distracted. Dragomir only allowed me to bring one agent with me, so we are still severely outgunned.” The stern look on his face let me know that he was a lot more concerned than he was letting on.

“Got it.” I nodded. “Let's move.”

He led the way down the garage, past millions of dollars worth of luxury cars, and towards the official-looking black SUV at the end, which I assumed was our escape vehicle.

My heels clicked on the concrete, echoing ominously, and I very suddenly got an uneasy feeling in my gut.

“Jonathan,” I murmured, stopping in my tracks as my hands broke out in a sweat. “Something's wrong. Something bad is about to happen.”

My foster father turned to look at me with a deep frown creasing his brows while the agent accompanying him snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? We don't have time to pander to your daughter's feminine nervousness, sir,” the man said, turning away from us again and continuing towards the car.

He didn't even make it three steps before his body jolted and dropped to the ground like a sack of garbage. Red blood splattered the ground around him, and a thick puddle of it began pooling from under his body.

My gaze darted frantically around for the best place to get cover, but we were totally exposed in the middle of the garage. What was worse, we were surrounded. Lethal looking men stepped out from their hiding places behind cars, guns pointed directly at Jonathan and me as they approached carefully.

Shit. I knew this had been too easy.

A slow clap echoed across the silent room, accompanied by the sound of men's dress shoes clicking over the hard ground.

“Guess you were right, hey Foxy Girl? Something bad is definitely about to happen,” Mr. Grey leered, a demented grin spread across his face as he stepped into the light.

No one spoke. The only movement in the room was the pooling blood beneath the dead Omega Agent.

“I knew you'd try and pull a stunt like this,” the disgusting old man continued. “You've proven time and time again over the years how slippery you can be, and after you escaped me at the Onyx Auction, I decided to come prepared. And early.” He smirked at me, the victory written all over his face.

Quickly, Kit. What are your options here?

Jonathan would be packing; he was the head of a spy company, for goodness sake. The issue was that no less than seventeen heavily armed mercenaries surrounded us. If we were getting out of this mess, I was going to need to make the first move, and fast.

Sizing up each of the armed men, I considered my best target while Mr. Grey kept on with his glory speech.

“Yes, I see you have noticed how well prepared I came this time. You won't be escaping me again, Foxy Girl. Oh no. You're mine now until I am finished with you, and then you'll be dead.” He cackled like an escaped mental patient, and I blocked out his vile words. This wasn't the time or place to surrender to my fears. I was stronger than that now.

Target selected, I gave Jonathan a small head tilt, just enough warning to let him know I was up to something, before moving. I needed to trust that he could hold his own, as worrying for his safety would only get both of us killed.

I dove left, pushing my full speed into my leap and swinging my fist into the man's face. His nose burst in an explosion of blood and cartilage while I relieved him of his weapon. When my body hit the ground, completing my leap, the gun in my hands was already firing.

My first instinct had been to shoot Mr. Grey, but Austin's dickhead voice rattled through my brain, reminding me to take out the biggest threats first. In this case, it was the armed mercenaries. I could take down Mr. Grey once they had been dealt with, and I could take my sweet ass time with it too. That thought spurred me on, and I popped off round after round of bullets from my procured weapon.

Ducking behind an ostentatious, bright yellow Lamborghini, I darted a quick look around to check where Jonathan had ended up. To my relief, he also had a weapon in his hand and was crouched diagonally opposite me behind a lime green Ferrari. I raised my eyebrows at him in a silent question, and he nodded back sharply. He was okay.

A round of automatic gun fire hitting the car I was hiding behind had me pulling my head back in and ducking low as the glass from the shattered windows rained down on me. The assault on the car continued, and I quickly rolled underneath it, then slithered my way over to the next car. Compared to the heavyset men, I was probably the only one small enough to fit under the low sports cars, so they wouldn't even think to check them.

“Don't be fucking stupid, girl!” Mr. Grey bellowed from his hiding place. “You are way outnumbered; you'll never leave this garage alive!”

“Good,” I snapped, popping up from my new location and dispatching two more of his goons with clean shots to their heads. I had barely seen the second fall when a weight like a freight truck hit me from the side, throwing me behind another car and landing on top of me with a pained groan.

“What the fuck?” I hissed, not wanting to draw attention to my location but also trying to push the dead weight off me. I was too vulnerable trapped like that. Too defenseless.

“Get off!” Heaving with all my strength, I pushed the solidly built, six-foot-four man off me.

“Do you fucking mind?” he hissed back at me. “I just took a goddamn bullet for you, and this is the thanks I get?”