Chapter 6 - THE SONG IN THE DARK
I didn't think.
I grabbed the heavy metal toy fire truck that Sofia had left near the edge of the bed and slammed it down onto Viktor's outstretched hand with all the force I could muster.
He roared in pain, pulling his hand back.
I scrambled out from under the bed, dragging the twins behind me.
The room was a disaster area. Dante was slumped against the wall near the door, his hand clutching a dark, spreading stain on his side. He was breathing heavily, his face pale as paper, his gun lying just out of his reach on the floor.
Viktor was on one knee, his face contorted in rage, his hand bleeding where I had smashed it. He was reaching for his dropped pistol with his other hand.
I lunged for Dante’s gun.
My fingers wrapped around the cold steel just as Viktor’s hand found his own weapon.
I had never fired a gun in my life. The weight of it was shocking, unbalanced.
"Clara, no!" Dante gasped.
Viktor pointed his gun at me. His eyes were cold, dead.
I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.
The recoil slammed through my arms, sending a shockwave of pain up to my shoulders. The noise was blinding.
When I opened my eyes, Viktor was staring at me, a look of utter disbelief on his face. A neat, red hole had appeared in the center of his chest. He took one halting step backward, his gun slipping from his fingers, and then collapsed forward, crashing onto the floor.
He didn't move.
The gun felt like dry ice in my hand. I dropped it, my whole body shaking so hard I could barely stand.
"Clara..." Dante whispered, his head leaning back against the wall. His eyes were heavy, fluttering. "You... you shot him."
"We have to go," I sobbed, rushing to his side. I ripped a strip of fabric from my torn shirt and pressed it against his wound. He groaned, his jaw clenching so hard I thought his teeth would shatter. "Dante, his men... they're downstairs. They're coming."
"The... the panic room," Dante gasped out, his hand feebly grabbing my wrist. "Behind the... the bookshelf in my study. Code is... Isabella's birthday. 11... 14..."
"Can you walk?"
"I have to," he muttered, forcing himself up.
He was heavy, his dead weight leaning entirely on my shoulder as we slowly dragged him out of the nursery. The twins followed, holding onto my coat like little ducklings, their faces pale but silent.
As we reached the hallway, we heard the sound of heavy footsteps rushing up the back stairs.
"They're coming!" Sofia cried out.
"In here! Fast!" I urged, pushing Dante into his study.
The room was dark, but the moonlight showed the massive oak bookshelf. I rushed to it, feeling the edge for the keypad. My fingers found the hidden panel. I pressed the numbers: 1-1-1-4.
With a soft, hydraulic hiss, the bookshelf swung open, revealing a small, steel-lined room with a bank of monitors displaying the security cameras.
"Inside!" I yelled to the twins.
I dragged Dante through the opening just as the door of the study was kicked off its hinges.
"In here!" a voice shouted from the hallway. "They're in the study!"
I slammed the button on the inside of the panic room door.
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The heavy steel door slid shut, locking with a series of deep, metallic thuds just as a hail of bullets erupted outside, clattering harmlessly against the reinforced steel.
We were safe. For now.
