Oath Bound (Unbound) - By Rachel Vincent Page 0,71

bathroom. He hadn’t seen Sera yet.

He was one of Julia’s, just like the last guy. Ordinary security guards don’t carry suppressors.

At his back, Sera slowly, silently set a bottle of bleach on the floor, then stood without a sound. I couldn’t look directly at her without exposing her, and my peripheral vision wasn’t good enough to tell what she was up to. Which made me nervous. She had a history of confronting gunmen—she’d demanded my gun and foiled the aim of the dead man in the hall—and if she got herself killed trying to help me, I would never forgive myself.

“Unsnap the gun pocket from your holster and set it down, then kick it across the floor to me.” The guard’s aim held steady at my chest. Behind him, Sera glanced around the bathroom, and I had a horrible hunch that she was looking for a weapon.

I lifted both brows at the gunman as Sera knelt to pick up a bottle of spray cleaner, and I hoped she’d understand that my response was actually aimed at her. “This is a little ridiculous,” I said. “I don’t need a gun to kill you.” That last part, obviously, was for the bad guy.

“Humor me,” he said. “Hand over the gun.”

Sera silently turned the end of the nozzle, opening the spray bottle, and my heart began to beat too hard. What the hell was she planning to do, shine his bald spot?

When she picked up a toilet plunger and hefted it, testing the weight, I nearly groaned. The handle was too light to pack a punch, and the rubber part on the end would do about as much damage as the proverbial wet noodle.

Her boots were silent on the tile, as the guard watched me unsnap my gun pocket. Her last step squeaked on the floor, and my heart nearly burst through my chest when he heard her and turned, his aim shifting with the movement.

Sera swung the plunger at his arms, driving his aim down as she sprayed the cleaner in his face.

The guard screamed.

I fumbled, trying to pull my pistol from the partly detached pocket.

The guard’s gun went off with a thwack. A chunk of linoleum tile exploded to my left, and my heart leaped into my throat as I lurched out of the fire zone. The gunman abandoned his two-handed grip to rub his eyes, still screaming, and Sera shoved the stick end of the plunger into his stomach with a wild grunt of effort.

The guard oofed and swung the gun toward her. She ducked below his blind aim just before the thwack, and the bullet slammed into the wall at my back.

I let go of the gun pocket, and it dangled from my holster by one snap as I launched myself at the blinded guard, trying to pull his gun away before he could fire again. Sera circled us, struggling to stay out of the line of fire as we fought over the weapon.

The gun went off twice more, and my heart stopped with each muffled shot, certain I’d just met my own death. Shooting the guard would have been easier than wrestling his gun from him, but he had to live long enough to be interrogated.

Still trying to avoid the kill zone, Sera bumped into the countertop next to the fridge, then turned to pull it open. It was empty, as was every drawer she tried. The only thing that wasn’t nailed down, other than the furniture and the microwaves, was...

She grabbed the cheap four-slice toaster and jerked so hard the cord pulled free from its plug. Stay back, I thought, as she circled us, avoiding the gun we still fought over, looking for her chance.

When I understood that she wasn’t going to stop trying to help until I’d gotten the guard’s gun, I realized I’d have to work with her, instead of silently cursing her dangerous involvement. I jerked hard on the guard’s wrists, avoiding his trigger finger, and swung him around in a half circle.

Sera pulled the toaster over her head. The cord dangled against her back. When the moment was right, she swung the toaster down with another grunt of effort, straight into the guard’s shiny, bald head.

The guard grunted, then crumpled to the floor. I ripped the gun from his grip and clicked the safety switch. I exhaled slowly and took a moment to celebrate the fact that we were both still alive. And whole. Then I turned to Sera, latent anger and intense