She lunged for the doors where the others had entered the school earlier and dashed inside. Her footing was slippery from the snow and ice. She almost went down and, in the process, wrenched her knee.

Dammit. She staggered to her feet and turned right, hopping and running. “Shane! Alex! Ashley!”

She could hear Grice opening the door behind her and racing after her along the corridor. She couldn’t believe she was back here. She couldn’t believe she was once again fleeing a madman with a gun. At least this one didn’t share her DNA.

A sharp, hot pain lanced her side.

She fell and rolled onto her back, gripping the gun at her side. “You are such a loser, Ethan. We took your money and shut down your sick enterprise. Laura’s alive and we’ll track down everyone who ever donated to your auction and put them in jail right alongside you.”

His lip curled. “And you call me sick. You have no idea what they do to people in jail.” He dragged off his mask and tossed it aside. “You think I started off like this? I’m a product of the precious justice system so I’m thinking that maybe it doesn’t work quite the way it is supposed to.”

She watched his fingers start to tighten on the trigger of the rifle.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Yael said quickly. “I’m assuming that’s why you killed Derek Vincent and Phillipa Laurant?”

He hesitated. She wanted him to put down his weapon. She wanted to live. She wanted Shane, she realized. Wanted him desperately.

“They both got what they deserved. She persuaded me a plea deal would be the best thing I could hope for. He—” Ethan Grice looked haunted as he swallowed loudly. “He got exactly what he deserved.”

“And the others? The innocents you murdered?” she asked.

His expression turned calculating then. “Everyone got exactly what they deserved. Just like you’re about to.”

“Grice!” Shane yelled down the corridor.

Ethan glanced over his shoulder and swung the rifle towards Shane who carried a naked and bleeding Laura over one shoulder.

No way could Yael let Ethan hurt either of them. The momentary distraction gave her time to aim the gun and pull the trigger, over and over again, five times. Tears filled her eyes and she didn’t know whether or not she’d hit him or if she was about to die. She closed her eyes against the reality of what was happening.

The noise and the stink of gunpowder brought everything roaring back into focus.

“Yael. It’s okay, honey.” Shane’s voice came from beside her which was good because that meant he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead.

Thank god.

She felt him gently removing the weapon from her rigid fingers. She let go with a massive feeling of relief.

She hated guns. She would always hate guns.