Zeke’s POV
“Stay close to me.”
Lena shot me an annoyed look as we stepped out of the hotel. “I don’t need a babysitter, Zeke.”
I ignored her, my eyes sweeping the street. I didn’t like this. The air felt too still, the sidewalk too empty for a city that never slept. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Something wasn’t right.
We walked in tense silence, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. I could feel her frustration radiating off her in waves, but I didn’t care. She could hate me all she wanted—she was alive.
For now.
The black car appeared out of nowhere.
One second, we were crossing the street. The next, it was there—gliding too slow, too smooth, like a predator stalking its prey.
Lena noticed it, too. Her steps faltered, breath hitching. The window rolled down. A gun. The flash of metal.
A single shot—too close. I moved without thinking.
I grabbed her, yanking her hard against me. Her breath left her in a sharp gasp as my body slammed into hers, forcing her back against the nearest brick wall.
The bullet missed, shattering the glass of a storefront behind us.
Shit.
People screamed, ducking, running. The car screeched as it sped off, tires burning rubber against asphalt.
Lena was shaking against me, her hands fisting the front of my shirt.
I cupped the back of her head, my heart still hammering in my chest. “You okay?”
She nodded, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She wasn’t okay.
Neither was I. I turned my head, watching the car disappear around the corner. I was right. Someone else was looking for her.
And they found her first. Rage burned through me, cold and controlled. They had tried to take her. Tried to kill her. Over my dead body.
I exhaled sharply, forcing the anger down. Now wasn’t the time.
I turned back to Lena, gripping her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “You’re coming with me.”
She opened her mouth to argue. I wasn’t in the mood.
“Now.”