Page 7 of Wraith: Lethal Impact

The paralysis breaks. Survival instinct—raw and ugly—overrides the terror.

"Andrea, get up." The words rip out of me as I claw my way upright. My pointe shoes slip on the bloody floorboards, but I catch my balance, digging the stiff reinforced toes into the wood.

I yank on Andrea's arm.

She doesn't move. She's frozen, her eyes locked on the ruined face of the dead man lying between us. She's trapped in the same paralysis that held me seconds ago.

"Andrea, please." I pull harder, my voice fracturing into a sob. "We have to go."

Two more attackers clear the top step.

They ignore the dead man. They ignore the chaos below.

They lunge across the stage, massive arms reaching.

I throw my weight backward, ready to claw, bite, and scream.

The first one reaches me. His gloved hands lock onto my shoulders. He yanks me forward, the force of it snapping my neck back.

"No!" The scream rips from my throat as I thrash against his grip.

I wait for him to drag me away.

Instead, a second thunderclap vibrates through the air.

The man holding me jerks. A fresh spray of hot blood paints my face. His grip goes slack, and he collapses, his bulk crashing onto the stage inches from my feet.

The ghost fired again.

The final attacker on the stage freezes. He looks at his two dead comrades. He looks at me. Then his gaze shifts to Andrea.

He doesn't hesitate.

He rips Andrea off the floor, slinging her slender body over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

Andrea snaps out of her shock. She screams—high, piercing—and thrashes. She kicks, her pointe shoes connecting with the man's ballistic vest. She claws at his back.

He ignores her.

"Got one. Move." The man wheels toward the wings, already sprinting for the service elevators hidden behind the curtains.

The attacker who had been screaming orders from behind the marble pillar breaks cover. He sprints toward the elevator to join his teammate.

He doesn't make it.

A third thunderclap rocks the solarium.

The sprinting man pitches forward. A massive exit wound blows through his chest plate. He crashes into the overturned cocktail tables, dead before he hits the marble.

Three shots. Three dead.

"Let her go." I launch myself after the final attacker. I cover ten feet in three desperate bounds. I reach out, my fingers brushing the silver sequins on the back of Andrea's costume.

The attacker doesn't slow. He shifts his weight and drives a heavy boot backward.

The kick catches me square in the chest.

The air explodes from my lungs. I'm thrown backward, my feet leaving the floor. I crash down onto the hard oak stage, my head bouncing against the wood.