She forced herself to stumble forward, collapsing against the doorjamb to keep herself upright as the screams and gunshots warbled into a strange cloud of sound. The pressure against her head doubled, making her fall forward, a groan catching in the back of her throat as she stumbled into the chapel and caught herself on her hands as her body hit the floor.
She flopped onto her back, trying to force away the dizziness, to pull herself up and lock the door, but Eve was already there, stepping into the opening, her blue eyes clearly shining with smugness, even with Isobel’s blurry vision.
“Well, this all turned out rather well, didn’t it?” Eve asked. “I’ve been following you around for weeks, waiting for my moment.” Her gaze flickered up, focussing on something behind Isobel.
Sophia stalked forward, her short dark hair flopping up and down with how fast she moved, and then suddenly her fist connected with Eve’s face.
“Not today, bitch.” Sophia shoved against Eve as Maya knelt beside Isobel, pulling her up into a sitting position.
Eve stumbled back, clutching her nose as blood spurted through her fingers. “What the fuck?” she snapped. “Who the fuck even are you?”
Sophia shoved her backward and then slammed the door in her face and locked it, before collapsing against the wood, looking pale and sweaty, her hands shaking. She shook her head like she was trying to clear away a fog in her mind—Eve’s power somehow working on both of them at once—before she turned to the side and shouted through the door, “A real friend, you psycho!”
“Isobel?” Maya was touching her forehead. “What’s going on out there?”
“S-Shooter,” Isobel slurred.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Eve collided with the other side of the door, her fists pounding against it. “You’re all going to pay for that! Shit, he’s coming.” She suddenly backed away from the door.
Sophia stumbled away, looking at the door in horror. “He’s coming? Who’s coming?”
“Soph,” Maya snapped. “Get away from the door. Luis! Get behind the podium! Is the back door locked?”
“Yes, Mama.” Luis’ voice trembled like he was crying, and he squeaked when he ran into something, knocking it against the floor.
“Get down on the ground, Luis,” Maya ordered over her shoulder, helping Isobel to her feet.
Sophia grabbed Isobel’s other arm as the effect of Eve’s power began to wear off, and the three of them stumbled toward where Luis was hiding.
“I saw you go in there, Carter!” Heavy fists crashed against the chapel door, and Isobel ducked away from the other two women, pushing them toward the dais when they tried to grab onto her again. She turned to face the door, dread dropping into her stomach.
“Carter!” Fists rained down on the door.
It was Crowe.
Just as she considered darting out through the back door and calling his attention away from the chapel, he fired off a round of shots, breaking apart the lock. She bit back a scream, ducking into one of the vestibules lining the side of the room, pressing up against the thin wall and covering her mouth to muffle her terrified breathing.
She had to do something, or the others were going to get hurt.
But she didn’t know what to do.
“I know you’re in here.” Wood splintered beneath Crowe’s boots as he slowly stepped inside. “I’ll shoot this whole place up if I have to.”
Luis’ dream was coming true, and it was all because of her. She had run straight to the chapel, thinking they might be in danger. Cian was right. Believing in things did half the work of fate.
She waited until Crowe was almost in line with her vestibule before she slipped out, scooting around him to put his back to the dais. He raised his gun immediately. It was long. Bigger than she expected. He even had ammunition clips strapped to his belt.
He was prepared.
“There you are,” he snarled, levelling the gun at her face.
“Get out of here,” she said, keeping her eyes on Crowe and hoping the others were smart enough to leave while she was giving them an opportunity to.
She wasn’t worth an extra three lives.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Crowe spat. “You ruined my life, you little cunt.”
She caught the barest glimpse of movement over his shoulder. It looked like Maya, Sophia, and Luis were moving toward the back door. She needed to keep Crowe talking.
“How did I do that?” she asked.
“First, the Track Team told me to ruin your reputation—even promised that Eve would help with her power, then your stupid boyfriend comes after me.” He took a step closer, staring at her dress like it personally offended him. “But they never really wanted to recruit me. I was just pathetic enough to employ as a tool. They recorded me doing what they told me to do, and then used it to blackmail me. They used me to get to you and then tossed me out like garbage as soon as they had you. But you never really escape the Track Team. You know that, don’t you? You know they own you now? And I’m going to make sure to sink their precious little investment.”
Isobel flinched when the back door opened, a bright shaft of light angling into the room, but Crowe didn’t seem to notice it. He was focussed on the slow steps backward she was taking, carefully matching them with steps forward as he kept the gun pointed up.
One of the shadows paused in the doorway and Isobel chanced a quick look up, catching the way Sophia held her fingers up to her head, gesturing a phone.
Isobel yanked her phone out of her pocket and held it up just as Crowe’s arm twitched, his heavy brows dragging down in fury.
“Throw it,” he ordered. “Or I blast your head off right now.”
She flicked it over her shoulder, close enough to the door to feel where the opening was by the breeze creeping in against her back. She heard it scatter and slide off the chapel steps and Crowe reached around her, wedging the broken doors closed as Sophia finally disappeared from the back door, closing it at the same time.
Hopefully, she would get to Isobel’s phone and call one of the Alphas … because Isobel wasn’t sure she would be able to overpower Crowe on her own.
She had tried that once, and there were no candlesticks within reach this time.
“So what should I do?” Crowe asked, his foul, stale-sweat smell washing over her before he backed off. “Give you a few more scars?” He tilted his head, looking her over. “Shoot out your kneecaps? Send them back a cripple? You want to be a cripple, bitch?”
She winced, leaning back against the door, and keeping her mouth shut. He took another step away, planting the barrel of his gun against her cheek. “Or I could shoot a hole through your face? See how much better than me you think you are when you’re just as ugly.”
He lowered the gun, brushing it across her chest, and pressing it low against her stomach. “Or maybe I’ll have a little taste of what you’re handing out to all the Alphas first? Maybe if you’re a good enough fuck, I’ll let you keep one of your legs. What do you say?”
She averted her eyes from his face as his meaty tongue poked out to lick his lips, her attention zeroing in on the painting hanging above the dais. She had no idea which of the Gifted gods it was, but she was willing to try anything.