Obsidian Music (Lion Security Book 3) (8 page)

With my hands now not bandaged, Daniil threw me a smaller machine gun and another handgun that I tucked under my expanded waistline. I put a hand up on the floor of the limo since I couldn’t hear, and when I felt the vibrations stop from the gunship firing, I rolled from the vehicle following Grigori and Daniil, as Roman provided a distraction for us to exit.

I landed behind a tree and stayed low, peering around it, watching in stunned shock as Daniil hopped on top (bottom) of the limo, in plain view of everyone, lifted the rocket launcher to his shoulder, got down on one knee—and he fired.

The rocket launched at an angle up through the air. I almost screamed from the explosion in the air that was loud enough to penetrate my ringing ears as it hit its mark. Grigori tossed Daniil the other one before leaning over the limo and lifting his machine gun and opening fire, providing protection for Daniil, who fired this one just as expertly and quickly. Another explosion from above and a whistling sounded as the gunship started to go down.

Daniil jumped off the car, pulling two grenades from his stash and tossing them at a group getting too close. He turned and yelled at me over the explosion that rocked the ground beneath me. I couldn’t hear him, but he twirled his fingers and jabbed a finger toward where the helicopter had gone down as he crouched behind the limo. He pulled two small handguns out of his waistline.

I nodded. He wanted me to make sure the assholes were dead in the copter. It was a safe job since they were more than likely dead. He was protecting me in his own way. I stayed low since I couldn’t hear if anyone was near, slowly making my way through the brush, rolling, and crouching behind trees where I could. It felt like it took forever, but I made my way toward where the copter had gone down, smelling burning metal the closer I got, my ears only barely recovering.

I stopped when the smell became overwhelming and tried to listen, but the only sound I could lightly make out was gunfire and grenade explosions in the distance where the firefight was happening. I breathed deeply, ready to start again when a man stumbled out from behind the tree I was hiding behind. He was bleeding from the head, and he looked dazed as he walked, his mouth moving as he said something over his shoulder that I could only barely hear but not make out.

My body froze, my heart stopping and then pounded against my chest as he stumbled over a limb, not watching where he was going, talking to the other man behind him that walked with a limp and a bloody arm that came around the tree. I lifted my weapon immediately, the second man seeing the movement and falling to the ground lifting his own gun.

And I froze. Completely froze.

My light machine gun hung limply down by my side, my one decent arm not lifting it to fire. I was tempted to lift my arm in the cast in front of my eyes.

I was such a coward. To talk about killing was one thing.

To do it was a whole other ballgame.

Roman was suddenly next to me. He peered down the sight of his gun and fired.

He shot the guy aiming at us first before changing course and killing the stunned and dazed man next right before he was able to get his gun from his holster.

I scooted behind a tree, my breathing ragged. I hadn’t seen anyone else, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone. My thoughts raced as I checked the terrain. No other movement. I kicked a rock far ahead of us. Nothing.

I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief, though. I kept my head in the moment, scoping out every angle as Roman and I jogged to the helicopter. It was still burning from the tail and stunk to high heaven, lying on its side, the ground tore up all around it. My ears finally picked up the crunching of grass and the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees. I ignored the heat of the flames coming at the gunship from behind.

Roman slowly climbed up its belly, staying in place there. Gradually, he peered up and over, into the open door after hearing no sounds. He shook his head, and stated, “There are only three seats inside, and one of them has a dead body in it still. I got the other two.”

I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Roman.”

He dropped to the ground. And winked. “You can say you got them.”

I instantly shook my head. “Nope.”

His gaze scanned my face, and then he nodded. “Your choice.”

We slowly made our way back to where the gunfire was dying down. I seriously hoped that was a good sign. Less gunfire could mean a greater amount of the opposition dead, or vice versa, a greater number of our numbers dead since we were completely outnumbered.

I stalled when I saw seven men creeping up behind where I had left the limo. It wasn’t in viewing distance yet, but we were very close. I tapped Roman’s shoulder and pointed silently.

He grinned. It was the smile of a killer.

Roman gently pushed me behind a tree for protection. He lay down on the grass, crawling on his belly into the closest brush. Daniil’s son made his way silently and pulled all of his guns out that he had on him, laying them on either side on his body. He first pointed the machine gun at them, following their movements. He waited until they were in a clear opening with no trees too close, and started from the right and opened fire, going left, aiming at crotch level just in case they decided to drop.

The three at the end did try that, and it didn’t work out so well for them. Four out of the seven were dead instantly—I knew that, but the first three were screaming where they lay on the ground. They started firing blindly at him. Roman picked up his handgun and aimed accurately, and fired three more shots right to the head, ending their agony and lives.

I felt no remorse for their loss of life, but I still didn’t think I could do that.

I had no clue how long we had been gone, but gripped my gun—the gun I hadn’t used.

We trekked back to the limo just as quietly and slowly as we had before. When we got there, diving behind the limo, there were only periodic shots being fired. I couldn’t see because gray smoke filled the air. No one was alive outside the limo, and I was grateful that none of the men were my group.

I called from right outside of one of the limos doors, staying out of gunshot path, thumping it with a quick fist, “It’s Elizabeth! Anybody in there?” The driver and Ember should have been inside still. The window rolled down just as the barrel of a gun poked out. I leaned back instantly, but the driver was smart enough not to fire. I asked in a hurry, “You two still all right?”

He responded just as quickly, “We’re fine. Ms. Lerrus is still unconscious.”

I nodded. “Roll the window back up.” He did, and I pivoted, pulling my shirt up over my nose and mouth, peering around the back end of the limo to where I heard the periodic shots. The smoke made my eyes burn, and I coughed, but it was slowly starting to rise away in the increasing breeze, giving me a view of the carnage littering the ground.

Two SUVs had driven down into the woods and were on fire, creating the smoke. There were bodies cluttering the ground. There had to be at least eighty to a hundred dead men, lying around all dying differently. I swallowed hard, my eyes darting from each dead man, but I didn’t see any of our group.

And then I did.

From where the shots were coming from.

There was no other movement except for the four of them.

Daniil. Grigori. Eva. Artur.

They stalked side-by-side through the smoke, bleeding themselves from various places.

The four were shooting anyone in the head that so much as twitched.

I swallowed hard again.

I heard someone groveling and crying then as they made their way through the carnage, blathering in Russian. He grabbed Daniil’s leg, obviously pleading for his life, but I didn’t think he had that long to live with only one arm left and a huge hole through his stomach. Daniil shook off his touch and bent down, his hair covering his face as he said something to him, right before he ended his life with a simple shot to the forehead.

I pulled back and turned toward the woods behind me, staring at the trees there. That was better than seeing them cold and lethal, brutal in their actions. Roman stood like a statue of protection next to me. I didn’t exactly disagree with what they were doing, finishing up as they were, but it was different when someone was returning fire on you than just lying there dying. Some would call it mercy killings, but I didn’t think that was why they were doing it. I think this was the scary as fuck side of them.

I heard the crunching of their steps—no longer trying to be silent—and I called out so they wouldn’t shoot us, “It’s Elizabeth and Roman.”

They rounded the side of the limo.

Daniil immediately lifted me from the ground, holding me like a babe in his arms against him, asking quickly in Russian something I couldn’t understand. I blinked up at his face that was covered in sweat and blood and soot, allowing my head to fall against his chest, and just held him. He gripped me tighter, repeating what he said in English, “Were you hit? Are you all right?”

“No, I wasn’t hit. Roman took nine of them out back there.”

He started rubbing my back as Grigori moved around us, knocking on the window of the limo, and crawling inside when the door opened.

I lifted my head, staring into his dangerous eyes. “How badly are you injured?”

He kissed me outright. His lips landed on mine as he crushed me to him, grabbing the back of my head, and thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I had never felt anything better. I grabbed his neck, my wounded fingers digging into the damp skin there, and pressed into him, kissing him back with all I had to give. He growled, and I felt it against my breasts that were crushed against him as he held me tight. It was perfect.

Until Artur nudged us, asking dryly, “Think this can wait until we’re back at the house?” He was holding his bicep where he was bleeding, looking at us a little exasperated. “I didn’t know dead bodies were a turn on for you, Papa.” He glanced around. “We need to get back and have a crew come out here and clean this shit up before anyone drives by. We’re lucky this area is deserted like it is.”

Daniil sighed, and kissed my forehead, slowly releasing me. “He’s right. We need to go.”

I nodded, scanning his body as Grigori got out of the car, holding a limp Ember. “Are your injuries bad?”

He shook his head. “The worst is a minor flesh wound.” He lifted his shirt, showing me what appeared to be where a knife had skimmed his lean hip. He asked Grigori, “Is Ember okay?”

Grigori nodded. “She was awake when I went in. She’s only passed out again when I moved her. I think her right hip is bruised badly. Nothing new.”

Artur stated, already walking away, “Let’s go, then.”

The driver crawled out of the car, his gaze scanning the area as we made our way through the wreckage, shaking his head and muttering something as he got on a cell phone. From what I understood from the conversation, he phoned someone to tell them a ‘crew’ needed to be sent to this location. He didn’t seem fazed by what we were wading through, only factual. Guess he had seen this before.

I slipped…in someone’s guts…and Daniil caught my arm, steadying me, watching my face as I lifted the shirt back over my nose, holding it there and swallowing repeatedly. I pushed forward, trying hard not to step on anyone’s anything again. Daniil kept me close, guiding me through it all, like a sound foundation to the disgusting quicksand all around.

I kept my feet moving quickly, and we hit the road, turning toward where the SUVs and trucks burned or lay on flat tires from the limo’s spray of bullets. Nothing was drivable. It was as if we all took a large breath in, right before we started a slow trot toward the house. Though Daniil chucked my gun to the side and lifted me into his arms almost instantly. The faster we got there, the faster we could wash the death from us.

Three minutes into our run, a limo pulled up. It was the rest of Lion Security. They were a little late but much appreciated. I would take the ride willingly.

Zane muttered, “You had all the fun without us.”

I was sure we weren’t very pretty. Blood, soot, dirt, sweat. The only ones who were halfway clean were Ember and the driver. The rest of us looked like we had just come from war.

Grigori grumbled, “You’re late.”

“Well, we had a house to finish blowing up.” Zane nodded toward Ember. “She injured?” He started walking toward us, and I was pretty sure we all stepped back, each of us a little trigger-happy at the moment. Zane stopped in his tracks, his gaze quick and intelligent before darting back to where we had come from. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He was still staring down the road. “How many?”

Daniil sighed and started moving toward the limo. “All in all, one gunship, and approximately a hundred men and fifteen vehicles.” Funny how he put them in that order.

Zane blinked at us.

Stash asked into the silence, “Anyone get any video of that?” He seemed hopeful.

Roman started chuckling as we moved toward the SUV.

Grigori muttered, “Sick bastard.”

We all entered the limo in a calm fashion.

Stash shrugged. “It would have been good for our introductory videos.”

I sat on Daniil’s lap, and Artur sat on the floor in front of us, resting his head against the side of the car, closing his eyes. He looked a little pale under his tan skin.

I nudged him with my foot. “You all right?”

“The bullet didn’t exit,” he muttered.

Zane immediately knelt in front of him on the floor. “Let me see it.”

Artur kept his eyes closed but lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt. What I had thought was a flesh wound wasn’t. Grigori cursed seeing his brother’s bicep, and Eva called him a very unkind name. I scowled at her. You weren’t supposed to call people that when they were shot and bleeding in front of you.

“He should have told us,” she muttered harshly returning my scowl.

Zane probed the wound, and Artur grimaced, right before passing out. Daniil ordered to Zane, “Take us to the fucking hospital or he’s going to lose his arm.”

Guess they weren’t too late after all.

It looked like I wasn’t getting to see my bed anytime soon.