A second later, I see it.

A man’s body on the floor, next to a closed door.

My blood turns to ice, the fear sharp and acrid on my tongue. If somebody took Nora, if she’s been harmed in any way—

No. I can’t allow myself to go there, not when she needs me.

An icy calm engulfs me, blocking out the fear. Crouching down, I grab the knife from my ankle holster and slide it into my belt buckle for easy access. Then, rising to my feet, I take out my gun and step over the body, ignoring the blood trickling from the man’s forehead.

According to the app, Nora is only a few feet to the left of me—which means she’s behind that door.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step into the room.

Immediately, a muffled cry to my right catches my attention. Spinning, I see two figures struggling by the wall… and all traces of calm flee.

Nora—my Nora—is fighting with a man twice her size. He’s on top of her, one of his hands muffling her screams and the other hand tearing at her clothes. Her eyes are wild and furious, her fingers curved into claws as she rakes at his face and neck, leaving bloody streaks across his skin.

A red fog descends on me, a rage more violent than anything I’ve known.

One leap, and I’m on top of them, dragging the man off Nora. I don’t shoot—too risky with her near—but the knife is in my hand as I pin him to the floor, my left forearm crushing his throat. He’s choking, his eyes bulging as I raise the knife and plunge it into his side, again and again. Hot blood spurts out, spraying all over me, and I smell his terror, his knowledge of impending death. His hands beat at me, but I don’t feel the blows. Instead, I watch his eyes as I stab him again and again, reveling in his dying struggles.

“Julian!” Nora’s cry snaps me out of my bloodlust, and I spring to my feet, leaving her attacker’s twitching body on the floor.

She’s shaking, mascara and tears streaming down her face as she tries to stand up, holding the wall for support.

Fuck. Sickening fear fills my chest. I rush to her and gather her against me, frantically patting her down in search of injuries. Nothing feels broken, but her lower lip is split and puffy, and her dress has a small rip at the top. And the child— No, I can’t think about that now.

“Baby, are you hurt?” My voice is barely recognizable as my own. “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes still wild. “No!” She twists in my arms, pushing at me with surprising strength. “Let me go! We have to go after her!”

“What? Who?” Startled, I move back, holding her by one arm so she wouldn’t fall.

“Rosa! He’s got her, Julian! He grabbed her and dragged her out that way.” Nora jabs her free hand in the direction of the door in the back. “We must go after her!” She sounds hysterical.