Chapters (67)
- Back Cover Text
- Booklist
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Part I
- Garret
- Dante
- Ember
- Cobalt
- Garret
- Ember
- Riley
- Ember
- Garret
- Part II
- Cobalt
- Garret
- Dante
- Ember
- Riley
- Ember
- Garret
- Cobalt
- Ember
- Dante
- Riley
- Ember
- Riley
- Garret
- Riley
- Ember
- Garret
- Riley
- Dante
- Part III
- Ember
- Riley
- Garret
- Riley
- Ember
- Riley
- Cobalt
- Ember
- Garret
- Ember
- Garret
- Riley
- Ember
- Riley
- Ember
- Riley
- Ember
- Riley
- Ember
- Garret
- Riley
- Cobalt
- Ember
- Dante
- Ember
- Epilogue
- Dante
- Acknowledgments
- Questions for Discussion
- Excerpt
- Copyright
He whirled with a back elbow at my face. I shifted, letting it graze my cheek, then drove my foot into the side of his knee. There was a pop, and his leg crumpled beneath him. As he hit the floor with a howl of pain, I snaked one arm around his throat and braced the back of his neck with the other. He thrashed, beating at my arms, trying to loosen the grip on his neck, but I set my jaw and didn’t move, counting down the seconds. At eight and a half, with no blood carrying oxygen to his brain, he shuddered and went limp in my arms.
I held him there a few seconds longer before I relaxed and let the body slump to the floor. One soldier down. But his partner, probably the sniper himself, had to be close—
A shot rang out in front of me.
I jerked, tensing to attack, then froze. Ember, wide-eyed and pale, stood at the top of the steps, a smoking pistol pointed at the ceiling behind me. Heart in my throat, I turned as a body dropped from the attic stairs and hit the floor with a thud.
A small hole pierced his forehead, right above his eyes, a near perfect head shot. Blood trickled down his face, over the bridge of his nose toward his mouth, open in surprise. One limp hand clutched his sidearm, a gloved finger still curled around the trigger.
Ember gave a tiny gasp and lowered her weapon. “I—I saw him through the hole,” she whispered, sounding dazed. Her arm trembled as she gestured weakly at the attic steps. “He had his gun out…pointed at your back. I didn’t know what else to do.”
She was shaking, eyes glassy as she stared at the body on the floor, as if waiting for it to move. When it didn’t, she looked up at me, almost pleading. “Did I…? Is he…?”
I blew out a long breath, closing my eyes. “He’s dead.” Painfully, I bent to retrieve my weapon, reluctant to glance at the fallen soldier, in case it was someone I knew. Rising, I checked the firearm out of habit, feeling aches from new bruises start to bloom along my body. My head throbbed, and my neck and back were sore from where I was slammed against the wall. But I was still alive.