Page 52 of Go Under

That had changed when Marcus found a way through the roadblocks, driving the SUV through a small city park. The four-by-four had bounced and jostled across the snow-covered dirt, but it had cleared a path. An enterprising police sergeant had ordered a snowplow to widen that path and sent several cruisers behind it. To Kate’s ears, they were about three minutes out.

She tried Darnell again. Nothing.

“Is he answering?” Marcus asked.

Kate shook her head. “No. Straight to voicemail.”

Marcus cursed. “Okay, take the left staircase, I’ll take the right. If Nora tries to leave, we’ll catch her on the way out.”

What he left unsaid was that if Nora tried to leave, it meant she was finished with Iris, and with Darnell as well. If she tried to leave, they would catch her, but they wouldn’t stop her, she’d have taken her final life and completed the Lawgiver’s task.

Kate drew her weapon and pulled the slide back, keeping the safety on as she climbed the staircase. Her heart thudded, and the phrase repeated over and over in her mind was, I should have gone with him. I should have run after him.

She hadn’t because she had gotten herself nearly killed the last time. And several times before that. She hadn’t because Cox knew she was weak and knew she would always go alone rather than wait that extra half-second for backup.

Only she wouldn’t have been alone this time. Darnell would have been with her. So, when it came down to it, she hadn’t gone with him because she knew Marcus and Winters would have disapproved.

Foolish, foolish, foolish.

She climbed the stairs two at a time. When she reached the third floor, she slowed, not wanting to alert Nora to her presence and potentially hasten a murder in progress. She opened the door gently and stepped through.

Just in time to see Darnell’s unconscious form lying on the ground. She gave up on quiet then, cursing and rushing toward the apartment. Marcus came through the other side, saw Darnell and swore, too.

Kate reached the door first. She turned the handle and said a brief prayer of heartfelt and intense gratitude that it wasn’t locked.

She stepped inside, and a blur of metal flew through the air toward her. Marcus shoved her forward, and instead of piercing her eye, the awl cut a groove into her head.

Marcus grunted, and Kate looked up to see his hand clasped to his neck. Blood welled between his fingers, and the world tilted.

Kate stared, eyes riveted, as Marcus staggered through the door. He tripped over Darnell’s body and fell backwards, teeth bared, eyes taut with pain. Kate got to her feet to run to him, and only the shriek of rage that erupted from Marcus’s attacker pulled her attention back.

Nora Avery rushed Kate, teeth also bared, but not with pain. Her eyes were blood-red, her face—more youthful and pretty than their projections had predicted—was twisted as ugly as sin. She held an object in her hand, something thin, silver and red in color.

Kate’s mind registered the object a split second before her body reacted. Sewing needle.

She brought a hand up, blocking the downward thrust of Nora’s hand at her eye. She swung the barrel of her gun at Nora’s head, but Nora caught her wrist. Her forward momentum forced Kate backwards, and a spasm of pain rippled through her chest as her healing ribs strained to meet the raging woman’s strength.

She cried out and twisted her hips, hoping to throw Nora to the ground, but Nora overpowered her, bringing her to the ground. Kate held the hand with the needle, eyes wide as they regarded the thin spear of tungsten, mottled with blood.

Iris Doyle’s blood.

Nora shrieked again, using her body weight to wrench Kate’s other shoulder. She cried out, and the weapon flew from her hand, skittering across the floor to the wall.

Nora threw a knee into the small of Kate’s back, causing her to gasp and arch. She held the knee there, brought her other hand around to clasp the one holding the needle, and bore down, forcing the needle closer and closer to Kate’s eye.

Kate used both of her hands to fight, putting every ounce of her strength into it. But her chest rippled with pain, and her right shoulder was rubbery and loose from the force of Nora’s attack. Nora was shorter, but her muscles were compact and hard, and rage had boosted her strength while injury had sapped Kate’s.

She watched the needle come closer, closer. An acrid smell came to her nostrils, sweat, but not hers this time. A detached part of her mind wondered if she should close her eyes or watch the needle pierce the left one. Was it long enough to reach her brain?

“Hey!”

Marcus’s shout was loud enough to snap both Kate and Nora out of their focus. Kate looked up to see Marcus standing in the doorway, feet spread, gun lifted and aimed at Nora’s head. The gash in his neck leaked blood, but not as much as before. Nora’s awl had injured him but not seriously.

Nora cried out and yanked Kate to her feet.

“I can make this shot, bitch,” Marcus snarled, fear translating to rage in the tightness of his jaw, the narrowed red of his eyes. “Let her go.”

His hands and shoulders were steady, though. His military training shone through. Kate realized that he could make that shot.