Chapter 19 - The Price of Defiance
The gunshot rang out like a cannon inside the glass enclosure.
The bullet struck the mercenary to Alexander’s right square in the shoulder, spinning him around with a scream of agony. Alexander flinched, diving behind a marble pedestal as glass rained down around them.
“Elena!” Julian roared, his eyes widening in horror and shock as he spotted me stepping out from behind the foliage. “Get out of here!”
The second mercenary turned his rifle toward me, but Julian lunged with the last ounce of his strength. Despite his shattered shoulder, Julian tackled the guard around the waist, slamming him against the reinforced glass railing. The glass spiderwebbed under the impact. Julian wrenched the rifle from the man’s hands and drove his elbow violently into his throat, dropping him to the floor.
Alexander emerged from behind the pedestal, his eyes locked on me. A twisted smile spread across his lips.
“Well, well,” Alexander whispered, stalking toward me like a panther. “The little runaway bride returns. The ghost of Ethan Vanderbilt’s sins in the flesh.”
“Stay back,” I said, aiming the weapon at his chest.
“You won’t shoot me, darling,” Alexander said smoothly, taking another step. “You’re an innocent. You don’t have the stomach for what my family does.”
He lunged forward with blinding speed, knocking the barrel of my gun aside with his forearm. The weapon flew from my grip, skittering across the slick floor tiles. Alexander’s hand clamped around my throat, slamming me back against a heavy iron trellis. The air rushed out of my lungs in a strangled gasp.
“Where is the Vanderbilt girl?” he hissed into my face, his breath cold and smelling of mint and ash. “Tell me, Elena, or I’ll throw Julian over that railing right in front of your eyes!”
“She’s… safe… from you,” I choked out, clawing at his iron grip.
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Through the haze of black spots in my vision, I saw Julian rising behind Alexander. He looked like an avenging demon rising from the dead—covered in blood, eyes blazing with an unholy fire. In his hands, he held the heavy iron pry bar he had carried up from the cellar.
“Take your hands off my wife,” Julian said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that froze the blood in Alexander’s veins.