Page 72 of Irrevocably

Then a few things happen at once.

He nods to the man with the knife who takes the tip of my finger off with a sharp, clean cut, and as the pain roars through me, deafening me, the man in front of me turns suddenly, barking orders to his men. They’re all turning, too, lifting their weapons. One pulls the trigger, but the back of his head abruptly explodes in a shower of blood and tissue, and he falls to the ground.

Dad is shouting at me, his face white, but I can’t hear anything.

All of my attention is focused on the man dressed in black, emerging from the shadows. He’s got a gun in his hand, and he shoots one man then another, his aim perfect, they all go down like targets at a shooting range.

A few people are following him. A tall, slender woman with black hair, whose aim is almost as good as his, and another man who looks like Wolf.

I can’t really tell, though. There’s only the man in black, his face expressionless as he takes out the enemy, his electric-blue eyes cold.

The man who cut my finger off goes down without a sound, then the one who was asking me questions comes to stand beside my chair and I feel him press the muzzle of his gun against my head.

“Take another step and she dies,” he says. “Enzo will⁠—”

But he doesn’t finish his sentence because Lucien pulls the trigger without a single hesitation and both the man and his gun fall to the ground.

Lucien says nothing as he strides to the chair I’ve been tied to, reaching to grab his knife from his boot and using it to cut through the plastic ties holding me in place. I’m dizzy and sick, the pain getting more and more acute, but relief is coursing through me.

He’s here. He came for me. I knew he would.

“Luc,” I force out. “They asked me about you, but I didn’t tell them. I didn’t say a word.”

“Hush,” he says, cutting the last tie free. Then he bends and scoops me up in his arms, which is just as well since I wouldn’t have been able to walk anyway.

I look up at his beautiful face as he cradles me against his hard, warm chest, and forget about the pain as I inhale his scent, smoke and dark forests and spice. His body heat takes the chill from me, and all I want to do is close my eyes and sleep.

Dimly I hear voices. Dad’s and Wolf’s and a few others, but I don’t take any notice of them.

The only thing that matters is that Lucien’s here and he has me.

I’m safe.

Chapter Thirty-Four

LUCIEN

I stride past Thea, Lazarus, the Hellhound and various members of his club as they start going over the bodies we’ve left behind. The Hound has released the chief and now both of them are calling after me, following me, but I don’t stop.

Astrid is curled against my chest, shivering, the blood from the finger she lost the tip of staining my hoodie and her own blue dress. She’s warm, alive, and I smell the metallic tang of her blood and acrid taint of her fear. And beneath that, lavender, and her own sweet scent.

A feeling winds through me, and I don’t know if it’s relief, but if I think about it too hard, it might take my knees out from under me, so I don’t think about it. I need to get her somewhere safe, where her finger can be treated and she has something for the pain. Not a hospital. There’ll be too many questions at a hospital, and we can’t afford any more attention.

I carry Astrid outside to the gravel area in front of the old factory and over to Lazarus’s car, since I came here by bike, and she can’t hold onto me, not in this condition.

“Luc,” Thea says from behind me, her voice sharp. “What are you doing?”

“She needs treatment.” I open the passenger door and carefully put Astrid in the seat. “I’m taking her to the house. There’s a full first-aid kit there, yes?”

“You can’t take her to the house.” Thea is frowning at me. “There’s a factory full of dead Morettis, a lot of fucking Hellhounds, and the Blackwater Chief of Police, and you’re worried about the girl?”

I ignore her, pulling open the driver’s side door and getting in.

“Luc,” she says flatly. “We don’t have time for this. Also, you know no one goes to the house except us.”

“I don’t care,” I say then shut the door in her face.

I pull out onto the road, leaving Thea cursing in my wake. I should stay, help them clean up the mess, and I definitely shouldn’t take Astrid back to the house, but she’s hurt, and while I know she’s not their priority, she’s mine.