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“But...” Jace shook his head. “Never mind. You have to look for Corey.”
“Tell me,” Val insisted gently.
“Just... where will I go when this is over? What’s going to happen to me?”
Val needed to reassure this boy without promising too much. But she wanted to promise him everything. She settled for honesty. “I don’t know exactly. But we will make sure you’re okay, wherever you go.”
Czar began to growl a second before both Burke’s and Val’s phones buzzed—the perimeter alarm had been triggered.
“Someone’s here,” Burke said.
Val stood, drawing her gun from its holster as Burke checked the camera feeds on his phone. Then he smiled and she relaxed.
“It’s MaryBeth,” he said. “I think she’s brought us an early lunch.”
“She’s spoiling us,” Val said, holstering her gun as she walked to the front door.
“She should ask us to walk her inside,” Burke grumbled, still watching the camera feed.
Val started to unlock the front door. “I’ll do it.”
“No, wait. She’s coming now and— Oh shit.” Czar’s low growl filled the air as Burke’s chair hit the floor. “MaryBeth’s hurt. She just collapsed out front. I’ll go to her.”
This is it. This was what had been nagging at her all day. “Wait. I’ll get Elijah to the safe room.”
Burke paused, his hand on the door as Val ran to Elijah, yanking his headphones off and dragging him to his feet.
She pulled Elijah to the stairs and gave him a little shove. “Elijah, safe room. Now.”
His face going sheet-white, Elijah ran.
“Czar, protect,” she told the dog, and Czar chased the boy up the stairs. “You go, too, Jace. Upstairs to the safe room. Now.”
Jace glanced at Burke before taking the stairs two at a time.
Burke was on the phone, dialing 911, calling for help, asking them to alert the cops André had assigned to neighborhood security. Hands steady, Val checked the camera feeds. MaryBeth was on the ground, her blood pooling on the front walk.
There was no one else in view.
“This is a trap, Burke,” Val murmured.
“I know, but MaryBeth could die. I’ll carry her into the house. You keep Elijah and Jace safe. Close the door as soon as I’m through it. Watch the camera and let me in when I’m close.”
Burke opened the door, started through, then dropped like a rock.
What the fuck?
“Burke!” Val shouted. She shoved on the door to close it, but Burke was in the way.
He was too heavy. He was dead weight.
Panic clawed up her throat. No, no, no. Not dead. Her brain was shouting at her to close the door at the same time it was pleading with her to help Burke. To drag him inside.
Elijah and Jace. She threw her whole body into the door, but it flew back when it was shoved open from the other side. She was forced into the coat closet door, the impact leaving her dizzy, but not so much that she couldn’t see the man coming toward her.
He wore a ski mask and body armor. Lean, about five-ten, one-eighty. You can take him. Aiming, she emptied her magazine into his face and head. He staggered, then fell on top of her.
She shoved him off, jumped to her feet, flicked the magazine release with one hand, and dug into her pocket for a spare magazine. Shoving it into place, she racked her pistol and leapt for the front door, only to have it fly open again. The door smacked her in the face and she took a clumsy step back, blinking away the pain and focusing on the two men who were forcing their way inside.
