Blood was spraying inside the tube from her wounds. She had no idea how bad they were but she was functioning so she doubted they could be too bad. Still, the inside of the shadow appeared reddish-black with blood, all along the curves and even overhead, slick with it. Her stomach was inside out, ripped out of her now, one of the worst illusions she sometimes had, adding to the sickness in her mind.
Taking a firm grip on herself, Brielle transferred quickly into the small shadow that had a slick tube, one that would take her very fast beyond the SUV if she wasn’t alert and ready. As she sped past the large vehicle at breakneck speed, she stepped from one feeder tube to a narrow shadow she’d spotted running up the back corner of the SUV. That took her right to the roof.
She sent up a silent thanks to the universe that it was night and the clouds were dark because the moment she stepped out of the shadows, blood splattered across the roof. That wasn’t an illusion. The blood was very real and appeared wet and nearly black as it fell on her target. He started to turn, but she was fast, one knee planted on his back as she gripped his head in her hands and smoothly ended his life.
A bullet hit the body as she dropped it and she leapt from the SUV into the nearest shadow created by the yard lights, one that hopefully would take her up to the house. Still, she felt another burn along her ribs as she heard the spray of automatic fire.
Where was their backup? Who was it? She couldn’t remember. Her brain was glitching and her stomach was completely gone, left behind with intestines and entrails in a bloody mess in one of the tubes. She’d never find any of her insides and be able to put herself back together. There was too much blood in her eyes to see where she was going. She didn’t think she could make it back into the house. If she had to make an exchange, she wouldn’t be able to. She’d lost too much blood and was too weak.
Brielle could only hope she’d done enough and Raimondo could get the door closed. Hopefully he’d called for their backup and the Ferraro surgeon for Leone. She knew every rider family had them. There was no calling an ambulance, not with active shooters and dead bodies outside their home. And not with riders in the air when they were supposed to be home with their wives. Stefano and Elie had to be protected at all costs, including her life.
The tube spat her out just inside the house. Raimondo caught her arm and jerked her all the way inside, slammed the door closed and locked the house down. Covered in blood, Brielle tried to help him by crawling across the hardwood floor away from the door, toward Leone. She couldn’t see well enough to know whether he was alive or dead. He was so still.
Vaguely, as if a great distance away, she could hear Raimondo swearing. She knew she didn’t have much time. She was a female rider, one able to produce children. He would save her life before Leone’s. She wouldn’t waste time trying to argue.
“Veins. Both of us.” She managed a whisper. Her throat felt swollen. Maybe the tubes had managed to turn that part of her inside out as well. “Collapse.” She knew it was a possibility. She was going to crash soon. If Raimondo didn’t get a vein now, both she and Leone would be in trouble.
Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably. Raimondo was up and running across the room for the cabinet built into the wall where they stored medical equipment and arms. He slammed his palm against the hidden release and the door sprang open. Rushing back to her, he was on the floor beside her, swabbing the inside of her elbow and inserting a needle.
“Dario is backup. He’s already here and taking out the rest of those bastards.” They could hear the steady sound of gunfire. “God, Brielle, you’re shot all to hell.” He was inserting a needle into Leone’s veins as well. “Once Dario clears the way, we can get the surgeon in here. Don’t you dare die on me, Brielle.”
Dario was at the front door, demanding entrance. Raimondo looked up and saw him with two men he didn’t know. He swore again and shook his head. He desperately needed help, but protocol demanded he know anyone entering the home. He didn’t know the men with Dario. He caught up his phone and texted Dario even as he tried to assess which was the worst wound on Brielle.
“I can’t let that dumb fuck in, Brielle, and he’s threatening to cut my balls off if I don’t. If you die, I think he really will.”
She turned her head away from him, her stomach lurching. This was going to be bad. “Tell Elie . . .” She began vomiting. Not just a little vomiting, but gut-wrenching vomiting, as if the tubes weren’t satisfied with taking her insides, her eyes and hair—they wanted every last bit they could get from her before she died.
Raimondo did his best to keep her head from landing in the mess she’d created. He wiped her face off multiple times and then tried to move her a couple of feet from the vomit. There was so much blood from both Leone and Brielle, she didn’t see how they were ever going to get the floors clean.
Dario continued to pound on the door and it was beginning to hurt her head. Each knock sounded as if it vibrated through her skull. Raimondo looked up, clenching his teeth.
“Let him.” She thought she managed at least those two words. She couldn’t get a full sentence out. Surely Dario could save Leone. He didn’t look as if he was breathing while Raimondo was trying to stem the bleeding on her from various places.
She hardly felt her body anywhere. There was no pain. Just. . . . “Cold.” She couldn’t stop shivering.
“Damn it, Brielle, don’t do this.” Raimondo glanced over his shoulder at the door, texted one-handed and waited for Dario’s assent. The men with him backed off and Raimondo unlocked the door from his phone just long enough to allow Dario in before he locked out his bodyguards.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dario snarled as he hastened across the room and dropped down beside Brielle. “You just going to let her die because I have men with me you don’t know? What the hell happened to her? I’ve got her, you take care of Leone.”
He was thorough in his examination, uncaring of modesty, tearing off her sleeve to look at the wound on her arm. Yanking down her trousers to look at the one on her thigh. Calling for more medical supplies. In the end, he cut off the jacket in order to attend the wound on her rib cage. He swore steadily as he found everywhere a bullet had bit into her.
Brielle’s body began to shake violently. Dario caught her by the shoulders and glared down at her. “Don’t you dare have a seizure. I’m not kidding around with you. I’m not like that pansy-ass husband of yours so don’t you dare disobey me.”
Dario took off his coat and laid it over her, leaving her leg exposed so he could work on her thigh. “What happened, Raimondo?”
“Interpol agent showed up.” Raimondo’s face remained turned away, desperately working on his partner. “He was legit, but clearly on someone’s payroll.” He looked toward the door as warning lights flashed. “Surgical team is here.”
“You letting them in?” Dario asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Yeah, Dario,” Raimondo snapped back. “They get in because they’ve been vetted, and in an emergency, I know who the fuck they are and who I can count on.” He opened the door for the surgical team.
Dario immediately stepped back and apprised the surgeon of Brielle’s wounds. She could hear him talking, although his voice was fading in and out. There was something important she had to say, to get them to understand, but it kept slipping away. Everything was so dark. Usually, she could see in the dark, but not tonight. Not with the blood seeping into her eyes and the smell of death all around her.
She was cold. Like ice inside. The shadows could do that to a rider. She’d heard of that syndrome. Riders coming out of the shadows permanently damaged with ice in their lungs. Or had she just had nightmares? She was shaking uncontrollably. She knew she was, but she was detached from her body. Looking down at it.
“She’s crashing. She’s crashing.”
She heard the voice as if from a great distance. She wanted to float away from all the blood. There was a giant pool of it spreading out under Leone and her. Leone’s breathing was shallow. He was struggling, but at least he was alive. She had thought they’d lost him. She was thankful that she had acted fast enough.