Cardinal Rose (The Cardinal #5) - Mia Smantz Page 0,1
the bloody tiles. Large hands grabbed me by the shoulders and steadied me. They were tan, veined, and muscular—Andrea.
I whirled to Tarasovich, but he hadn’t closed the distance between us. When faced with whizzing bullets and chaos, he’d been willing to risk it, but Andrea towering like the world’s largest bodyguard had finally halted Tarasovich’s advance.
Veseli stepped forward, seamlessly morphed into a throwing stance, and launched a wicked, black knife that nicked Tarasovich’s cheek and embedded to the hilt not even an inch from his head. This spurred the depraved teen into action, forcing him to disappear into the cavernous warehouse at the end of the hall.
I moved to follow him, but Andrea’s hand stopped me. “Whoa there, tech girl. Let’s put the gun down, okay? I have firsthand knowledge of how amazingly you fail at using one, so let’s just save us all the trouble now, yeah?”
I frowned to tell him I didn’t have a gun—if I did, I would’ve used it on Tarasovich. Before I could do so, I realized Andrea had told me the truth. The heavy, cool steel of a gun rested in my palm.
Why hadn’t I shot Tarasovich? The man committed reprehensible atrocities.
Mid turn, I caught the pleading hazel stare of a guard on his knees. He had his fingers clasped and hands raised to the back of his head.
His picture of portrayed innocence when earlier he’d been perfectly fine with carting me off for a psychopath’s idea of a playdate… incensed me.
“No,” I whispered. “You don’t get to play victim.”
I took the three steps to cross the hallway and nuzzled the gun’s barrel right against his sternum. My hands shook in an uncontrollable rage that bubbled up from nowhere. I flexed my finger on the trigger.
The retort of the gun rattled my teeth and reverberated around the wide hall until the large room at the end swallowed it up. Blood misted my face, but I didn’t flinch.
This was one of Ivanov’s men. They didn’t deserve mercy. I’d been through too much to get soft now. The man’s eyes lost their intelligence as he slumped in a boneless heap on the cold concrete floor.
Too easy! my mind screamed at me. A red haze stole over and tinged my vision. I adjusted my aim, shooting down at the man, once, twice… I lost count, but the gun clicked empty more than once as I stared into the lifeless, dimmed orbs that seemed to beseech me deep in my soul.
“No more, Callie!”
I frowned, confused. “Sabra?”
Sure enough, she stood tall and regal with her large, dark eyes sad and compassionate all at once. “Yes, Callie. It is okay.”
Tears dampened my lashes, brimming but not yet spilling over. “No, it’s not. You don’t understand! How can you forgive me? I betrayed you, all of you! You shouldn’t absolve me. I…”
Andrea’s actions snagged my attention in my peripherals. He attached some clay blocks to the wall and wound the wires together with a deft twist of his broad fingers. His dexterity with bomb making—considering the gigantic size of him—always surprised and impressed me, but I guess practice bred perfection in his case.
My eyes widened in fear. I whirled to the other Delta members who had shown up. “He’s setting bombs! You have to leave!”
Brock’s thick black brows furrowed as he crossed his arms. “Fuck no, dušo! What the hell do you mean ‘you?’ We’re not leaving without you.”
My shirt suctioned to my figure. I glanced down to see it drenched in blood, dripping with it, in fact. It clung to my skin like a layer of guilt and torment, reminding me of what I’d just done. I waved my arm angrily at the dead guard. “I don’t deserve to leave. Someone needs to go after Tarasovich. What if he escapes? I can’t keep chasing after him. He leaves a trail of bodies behind, and they’re all on my conscience.”
Corbin stepped forward, his blue eyes like a glowing beacon in this sky-less underground hell. “They are not your fault, Callie-Cat. None of them are, just like that guard isn’t either.”
My jaw dropped as I stared at them in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” I grabbed the hem of my soaked shirt and flopped it around, splattering and dripping blood to the floor. “Look at me! Go on! Look at me!”
All three teams glanced down but apparently saw nothing wrong with being soaked in another person’s life force.
“Callie…” Emerson started, his British accent sounding somewhat chiding to my ears.