“Traffic jam maybe?” Malcolm queried as he too began to tense.
Diane felt it then, that peculiar itch at the back of her neck, that early warning that wasn’t so early.
Riding fast on its heels was the feeling of having a target painted on her head. Right between her eyes. A finger on the trigger and that finger wasn’t going to wait.
Live by the sword, die by the sword, she’d once read. When the hunter became experienced enough, they became immediately aware of becoming the hunted. Her uncle had told her that just weeks before he was killed in that warehouse explosion.
She wasn’t just being watched. She wasn’t just being tracked. That finger was literally tightening on the trigger.
“Move!” She screamed the order even as her gaze was whipping around, ascertaining the innocents in the line of fire as she moved to push one older lady to the safety of the hotel doors.
The sound of the bullet whipping past her head was a whine of danger and death just before it exploded into the cement and stone wall of the building behind her.
Screams began to ricochet around the sidewalk as another burst of gunfire sounded and it began raining bullets. Cries of shock and fear began to fill the busy early-morning crowd that rushed to work or errands. They were now rushing to save their lives as another barrage of automatic gunfire began to spatter through the busy streets.
Car horns were sounding, the crash of metal against metal and the screams of hysteria echoed through her head as she scrambled to pull a terrified teenager from the side of the street and into the hotel entrance.
Diane was scrambling for the entrance, holding the door open as she pushed the kid in, then watched Malcolm and Thor suddenly grab Aaron under the arm as a bloom of red began to soak the fabric of his slacks over his thigh.
“Move! Move!” Diane yelled to the bystanders, ducking as the large window at her side exploded and glass began to rain around her.
The bastard was shooting at her.
She was only distantly aware of the shouts, sirens and more gunfire.
It was a crowded street no more than blocks away from the White House. The immediate response that would converge on the area would be thick with secret service, ATF, FBI and any other law enforcement alphabet agency currently based in the city.
But the bullets were still whining as Diane yelled at Thor to move his ass while she dragged a young professional through the door and hysteria threatened to overwhelm the young woman.
As she turned, searching for her men to ensure they had made it to safety, she was suddenly grabbed around the waist, hauled against a hard chest and tossed through the entrance as shards of cement exploded around her. The side of the building where her head had been looked like an iron fist had slammed inside it. Then she was flying through the air and thumping against a hard chest on the lobby floor.
“Thor!” She was aware of Lawe jumping to his feet in a graceful feline move she highly envied as she rushed for the wounded Aaron. “How is he?”
“I’ll f**king live,” Aaron snarled, his rough face tight with pain and fury.
He was stretched out on the floor as Brick fashioned a quick tourniquet around his thigh with a belt.
Cries, shouted orders and Breeds were filling the area. Cold, hard-eyed, armed and swarming through the hotel and onto the street before disappearing entirely as Diane turned, her gaze going to Lawe in narrow-eyed knowledge.
“They were shooting at me.” And she wasn’t armed. “Dammit, I told Jonas I needed that public weapons permit.”
Anger suddenly suffused her as she stared around at the wounded, weeping and shocked victims that had found safety inside the hotel.
“What the f**k is going on? What did you find, Diane?” Lawe was suddenly in her face, his canines flashing, and for once, his icy blue eyes weren’t icy.
They were burning. An inner blue flame flickered inside his eyes burning hot and furious as he gripped her shoulders and gave her a tight little shake.
“The hell if I know,” she yelled back furiously as she jerked away from him and scrambled across the floor to her men. “Where was my driver? If Jonas had his shit together and my driver had been out there, then I wouldn’t have been f**king shot at and my men wouldn’t be wounded.”
Aaron wasn’t the only one who had been hit. Brick and Malcolm were both bleeding, though Aaron’s wounds appeared to be the worst.
All three had taken rounds in their legs. Aaron’s hit was in the thigh, Brick’s appeared to be a flesh wound, while Malcolm was tying off a tourniquet on his lower leg. None of the injuries were life threatening, but they were definitely enough to ground them for a good while.
Lawe grimaced, his expression savage as he once again stared around the room while the sound of sirens outside grew shrill. “The hell if I know, but I promise you I will find out.”
The sound of gunfire had ceased, as though with the chance of picking her off with one of the bullets gone, the shooter had found better things to do than play with his gun.
“How bad is it?” she questioned Thor as she moved closer to check out her men.