Page 77 of Reaper's Desire

"Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Because there are other assassins hunting you," he says through gritted teeth. "And one of them is in this hotel right now."

"Bullshit." But even as I say it, I hear heavy footsteps in the hall, moving toward my door. Julian hears it too. His entire body shifts, his hand moving to the gun at his waist.

"Get behind me," he says quietly.

"No." I'm still furious. "I'm not?—"

A man fills the half-open doorway. He's massive, broad-shouldered, his face cold and expressionless.

He has a gun in his hand, and it's pointed directly at me.

Ice-cold fear, like nothing I've ever felt before in my life, floods me. I throw myself sideways as the gun goes off, the sounddeafening in the small space. The bullet hits the wall behind where I was standing, plaster exploding in a cloud of white dust.

As I lay there, partially stunned, Julian crosses the room in three strides and slams into the man with brutal force, driving him back against the wall. The gun goes flying, skittering across the floor. I scramble for it, my hands shaking, my heart pounding so hard I think it might burst. I hear Julian snarl something at him, calling himDmitri, and I vaguely realize that must be the man's name.

Dmitri recovers fast. He drives his elbow into Julian's ribs, and Julian grunts, his grip loosening for just a second. The man shoves him back and lunges for me.

I have the gun in my hands, but I don't know how to use it. I don't know if the safety is on or off. I have no idea if I can actually pull the trigger. Julian showed me how to fight back if someone grabs me, but we didn't have time for target practice. I've never held a gun before in my life.

Dmitri's hand closes around my wrist, and he twists, hard. Pain explodes up my arm, and I cry out, the gun falling from my grip. Then Julian is there again, grabbing Dmitri from behind and slamming him face-first into the wall. There's a sickening crunch of bone meeting plaster, and blood streams from Dmitri's nose.

But he doesn't go down. He spins, his fist connecting with Julian's jaw. Julian staggers back, blood on his lip, and Dmitri advances. I see the knife in his hand before Julian does.

"Julian!" I scream.

He moves just in time, the blade slicing through the air where his throat was a second before. It catches his arm instead, opening a gash that immediately starts bleeding.

Julian doesn't even flinch. He grabs Dmitri's wrist and twists, forcing the knife away, and drives his knee into the man'sstomach. Once, twice, three times. Dmitri doubles over, gasping, and Julian brings his elbow down on the back of his neck.

The man crumples.

For a moment, neither of us moves. We're both breathing hard, both staring at the unconscious assassin on the floor. And then Julian kneels down, grabbing the man's head in the crook of his arm, and he twists.

I nearly vomit at the sound of thecrackas the neck breaks. My stomach roils and heaves, but Julian is already on his feet, his hand around my wrist as he pulls me out of the room and toward the stairs. We go down a flight wordlessly, and he knocks on three doors, continuing on when the inhabitant yells something back, before there's no answer and he kicks the door in, slamming it behind us as we step into an empty room on a different floor.

Then Julian looks at me. "Are you hurt?"

I open my mouth to say no, but that's when I feel the sharp, burning pain in my side. I look down and see blood seeping through my shirt.

"Fuck." Julian reaches for the hem of my shirt. "Let me see."

"Don't touch me." But my voice is weak now, the adrenaline fading and the pain rushing in to take its place.

"Isabelle." His voice is gentle. "Let me see."

I don't have the strength to fight him. I lift my shirt with shaking hands, and we both see the gash along my ribs. It's not deep—Dmitri must not have had good aim when he grabbed my arm—but it's bleeding steadily.

"Sit down," Julian says, guiding me toward the bed.

I sit because my legs won't hold me anymore. My entire body is shaking, the reality of what just happened crashing over me in waves. I almost died.Again.

Julian disappears into the bathroom and returns with a towel and the first aid kit from under the sink. He kneels in front ofme. "This is going to hurt," he warns. Then he presses the towel against my wound, and I gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders.

"I know," he murmurs. "I know. Just breathe."

I try. I focus on breathing while he cleans the wound and applies pressure. His arm is still bleeding. The gash from Dmitri's knife is deep and angry-looking. "You're hurt too," I say quietly.