Vin threw off his lethargy the moment it became clear there was trouble over at the window. He’d been halfway into his pants when he heard the scrambling, and his first thought was for Marie-Terese—except she wasn’t the one who appeared to be getting strangled. Jim was quick to respond, though, getting Eddie that crystal knife and then hanging on with every ounce of muscle he had. And Marie-Terese was right there to help, doing what she could to keep the man from being pulled out by God only knew what.

Vin’s first thought was to go for the gun he’d left with his clothes and he followed up on it fast. Licking the safety off with his thumb, he leveled the muzzle at the mess of bodies at the window. He had no clue what the hell he could shoot at, so he held steady—

And then the expression on Marie-Terese’s face abruptly changed from one of determination to shock as she focused on the doorway.

Someone else was in the house.

Vin pivoted on his bare feet and saw the vision he’d been given in his trance play out: A man with thinning blond hair was turning the corner at the head of the stairs and lifting a gun to point it straight into the bedroom. Yes…this was it. The trigger was going to be pulled and the bullet was going to travel through the air in the blink of an eye…and Marie-Terese was going to be struck.

“No!” Vin screamed as the shot went off.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jim leap in front of her, the man’s body blocking the lead that was meant for her by taking it in the chest, the impact carrying him back and knocking her down.

Vin’s instinct was to go to her, but that was not the right move. Wheeling around with his gun, he knew that he had to make sure the intruder didn’t get a second shot—it was the only thing he could do to improve the chance of people surviving.

Although he had the cold, deadly suspicion that Jim was down for count permanently.

Holding his weapon steady, Vin stepped into the doorway—and directly into the face of a man who was a good three inches shorter than he was.

It was a question of who pulled their trig first, and surprise worked in Vin’s favor—the shooter had naively assumed that there were only three people in the room.

Vin didn’t hesitate to squeeze out a round, right into the guy’s heart, and the impact kicked the man’s aim off and tightened his index finger at the same time. Which meant Vin took a slug in the shoulder.

Fortunately it was the left one.