The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (5 page)

Sebastian carefully reached down and clasped her by the hand to lead her to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. “Let’s check whether we can see anything from up here.”

Madeleine felt brief, unwanted gratitude for his support. In the insanity of the past few minutes, she’d forgotten this man had frightened her enough to send her all the way back home from England. Granted, she’d more than stood up for herself when he came knocking at her door, and Dominic had tried, again and again, to convince her that Sebastian was an honorable sort of man. But still. Nearly from the beginning she’d sensed a darkness lurking behind his eyes.

However, looking into them now, she saw nothing but kindness and strength.

Grateful for the absence of pity, she squeezed his hand and looked down to the street.

Even from this distance she could see the carnage. Thick, black smoke billowed from the ground floor of the building next door. Flames licked outward, mostly obscured at their height, but present nonetheless. As they both stood transfixed, another explosion blew outward and Madeleine could swear the floor rocked beneath them.

Panicked, she ripped her gaze away from the scene to Sebastian. He took her shoulders between his large palms.
 

“What’s next door?” His tone was level, calm but insistent.

“What?” She could only stare, completely shocked at the devastation downstairs.
 

He shook her, a slight motion that was just enough to make her gasp a little.
 

“What is next door? What’s in that building?” Sirens were screaming outside. Belatedly, she heard the wail of alarms from next door.

She inhaled, telling herself to get a grip. “A bank. Residential upstairs but offices in the first three floors.”

He nodded, setting her back from him as he turned back to the window. “I think whatever happened may have blown out the windows downstairs. We probably need to evacuate, but I’m afraid it’s complete bedlam down there.” His eyes continued to scan the street below. “Are the emergency exits near the elevators?” He cursed, mumbling to himself. “Of course they are. Where do they come out?”

Madeleine had also turned back to the window. Transfixed, she stared as people swarmed the streets, running to get away. Meanwhile, crews of firefighters geared up and walked toward the flames and blackness. Sebastian touched her elbow.

“Madeleine,” he began, his voice low. “Where do the staircases exit? What street?”

She shook herself. “They come out in the lobby, but on the far side from the explosion.” She waved a hand then realized she was indicating the wrong direction. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

Sebastian briskly rubbed her upper arm. “Good.” He placed a palm to her low back, ushering her away from the window. “Let’s make our way down the stairs.”
 

Madeleine reluctantly allowed herself to be led away, glancing around the condo as if she were forgetting something. She snagged her purse, which held her keys and identification. She’d had neither all those years ago during her stalker’s attack. Even with one of the most recognizable faces on the planet, she’d had a hard time convincing medical personnel to believe who she was and to share any updates regarding her father, who’d been seriously wounded.

Her father.
 

Madeleine froze, causing Sebastian to nearly bump into her. Her hand flew to her throat. “Oh my God.”

“What?” At her persistent silence, he repeated himself, louder this time. “What, Madeleine?” A light shake. “What is it?”

Dread pooled inside her and she swayed, feeling faint. Sebastian’s hands stabilized her, then he tipped her chin upward with one finger. She looked into his eyes, dark and inky, and somehow found focus.
 

“My parents.
My parents!
”

***

Madeleine was screaming. With a firm grip on her hand, Sebastian swung her out the door to the elevators. He scanned the area and saw the stairwell exit in a far corner.

No time. He punched the button to summon a lift. Madeleine was shaking now, hard. He draped his arm around her shoulders, effectively cocooning her in his arms. If she went down he’d have her.
 

A faint ping signaled the arrival of an elevator. He briefly cursed their luck as it was the one farthest from the stairwell exit. They’d come into the lobby where anything could be happening. There was nothing for it, so he maneuvered Madeleine into the lift and held her while the car made its way down to possible, even probable, madness.

Sebastian would have preferred to be on his own, but leaving Madeleine upstairs and alone was out of the question. As the elevator neared the ground floor, he moved back, taking her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes.

He didn’t like what he saw. He lightly squeezed her arms. She shook herself then looked back at him, alert.
 

Relieved, he said, “I want you to stay here.”

“No.” Her response was instant and surprisingly strong.

He forced himself to be patient. Already, he smelled a faint whiff of smoke. “Madeleine, please. I need for you to stay back, just while I see what’s happening.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted. “I can’t focus if I’m worrying about you.”

It was a low blow but effective. From Dominic, he knew she harbored guilt over her parents, especially her father, who’d been critically wounded while trying to protect her. She paled, but Sebastian forced himself to carry on.

“You need to stay back. Out of the way.”

She nodded, lips pressed tightly. The elevator arrived downstairs and they both swung their attention to the doors as they silently swished open.

Thick smoke billowed inside, choking them with its suffocating stench. Coughing, Sebastian pulled her out of the elevator, afraid for her to be trapped inside. She’d be better off in the open, even if there was a fire.
 

Especially if there was a fire.

Feeling his way to the closest wall, he pushed her up against it. His voice harsh, he warned her. “Stay here.
Right here
, Madeleine.” With a brief hesitation to see if she obeyed, he pivoted and started to make his way into the dense haze of the lobby.
 

He moved with athletic grace, tentatively easing his big body closer to where he knew the concierge desk should be. With one hand extended, he touched the smooth, wooden surface and traced its curving length as he walked around it into the main, open area.
 

The air cleared slightly. The windows all along the front of the building were blown out and broken glass littered the marble floor as far back as where he stood. Outside, the screams of people and sirens were everywhere. Inside Madeleine’s building, despite the chaos and confusion from the street, there seemed to be an unearthly silence.

That was when Sebastian saw him.

It was the man from before, the one outside who wore a long black overcoat. Now he was inside, standing with his back partially turned away. He was rocking on his feet, his head turning back and forth as he alternately focused on the devastation outside and inside the lobby. Sebastian’s stomach dropped when he saw a semi-automatic rifle clutched in the man’s hands.

With logical precision, Sebastian assessed the man in black. He assumed the other man was responsible for the explosions at the bank next door. Why he was now in this building was anyone’s guess, but Sebastian had the sick suspicion that he’d ducked inside in an effort to escape the police.

Sebastian crouched while taking a couple of steps closer to see better. In addition to the gunman, three more people came into view. They were staggered apart but easily within range of the assault rifle. He leaned in, squinting to see through the wispy smoke.

The concierge was closest with his back to Sebastian. Another fifteen feet away stood Madeleine’s parents.

Sebastian clenched his fist, pushing it against the floor to steady him. Without a flinch he felt shards of glass slice into his knuckles.
 

Taking a practiced breath, he redirected the pain and centered himself. Within, an old but familiar rage awakened. He coiled his muscles and prepared to strike.

“Stay back—I’m not here for you!” The gunman waved the rifle between the concierge and Madeleine’s parents. With one forearm he dabbed the perspiration soaking his brow. “I only cared about the bank! They ruined me, and now I’ve ruined them,” he shrieked, laughing like a madman.
 

Sebastian eased back an inch.

Madeleine’s father raised his hands in the classic gesture of surrender. “We’re no threat to you. What do you want us to do?”

“Shut up!” Spit sprayed from the gunman’s mouth as he jerked the rifle to point at Madeleine’s father.
 

Sebastian only had a split-second to react when Madeleine rushed past him. His hand flew out, desperate to grab her, but he missed by inches.
 

“No!
No
,” she yelled.
 

The gunman spun around, now pointing the gun at her. Partly shielded by the large desk, Sebastian grit his teeth. The shooter frowned, peering darkly at Madeleine.
 

“You. It’s
you
.”

Either unaware or uncaring of the danger, she stepped forward. “Yes, you recognized me in the street the other day. I offered my umbrella. I’m sorry I ran from you.” Her tone was placating, syrupy.

Better than most, Sebastian knew that some people could be soothed. And others could not. He shifted onto the balls of his feet.

The gunman stepped forward, and the barrel of the rifle dipped down a little, as if forgotten. Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks and looked around him, as if remembering why he was there.

A police officer rushed through the building’s entrance.

The gunman’s head snapped around and along with it, the rifle. He lowered his head and aimed for the officer. “Don’t move.” His voice was shatteringly calm. Deadly. “Or I swear to God, I’ll kill you and everyone else here.”

The policeman froze, hand on the gun at his hip.

The rifle swung back to Madeleine. “Yes, I know you.” He smiled, and Sebastian could see the sick madness in the man’s eyes.

Madeleine seemed to see it too. Her lips tilted, but it was a faltering imitation of the beaming smile she’d once been known for.
 

“
You
. You’re what I need. You’ll make me famous.” The gunman tucked the butt of the rifle into his shoulder and laid his cheek against the stock. Sebastian watched in horror as the man’s index finger began to curl toward the trigger.

All hell broke loose.

Sebastian erupted from his crouching position like a dark and deadly raptor. Flinging his arms wide, he caught Madeleine from behind, tackling her to the glass-littered floor with brutal yet effective force. As he leaped he heard both her parents’ frantic shouting, effectively seizing the shooter’s attention. Bullets peppered the lobby in a wide arc. The sound of yelling was abruptly cut off amidst the staccato violence of gunfire.

Sebastian looked up as the concierge, bloody and wounded but miraculously still upright, rushed at their attacker. The policeman’s body was between them, staring upward and lifeless as if locked in a timeless plea. The gunman jumped over him and ran forward with a crazed cry, shooting and shooting until the only movement was the doorman’s body jerking from the force of the bullets ripping into him.
 

By the time the shooting stopped the concierge was dead.

The flame of Sebastian’s wrath worked through him, growing into a monstrous inferno of fury. Without regard to Madeleine or himself, he rose like a dark, avenging angel.

He strode forward, taking advantage of the gunman’s distraction with the fallen doorman. As he approached, the gunman looked up but not in nearly enough time. As soon as their eyes met, Sebastian flew forward in a flurry of savage kicks to his enemy. The rifle clattered to the floor as Sebastian fell on the man, delivering blows to the man’s head and neck before taking him to the ground. He pressed his forearm against the man’s windpipe, shutting off his oxygen.

He scanned the area. The bodies around them were still, either dead or unconscious, he couldn’t tell. He just had to hope Madeleine was safe, despite the rough way he’d thrown her to the ground.
 

He couldn’t think about her now.

He leaned close to the gunman’s ear. “You’re going to die,” he whispered. The other man jerked. “You’re going to surrender and subject yourself to the United States federal justice system where execution is still legal.” Sebastian loosened his arm enough for the man to take one gasping breath. Then he tightened again. “Or I’m going to kill you. Either way, you’re a dead man.”
 

The man went limp. Sebastian cursed, not nearly ready to give up his chokehold. The exquisite anger coursing through him settled into a cold and cutting need for brutality. He tamped down the urge, breathing deeply to push back the blackness.

He eased off, letting the man drop to the floor. Sebastian stood, rotating his neck to relieve the tightly corded muscles there. He quickly moved to Madeleine’s mother. Beneath the bloodied and torn fabric of her blouse, her chest lay still. Nearby, Madeleine’s father stared upward, his eyes unseeing. Both of their bodies were coated with a fine layer of ash.
 

He was too late. A headache started to pound in one temple.
 

A movement, a scrape behind him caused Sebastian to spin.
 

The gunman, no longer unconscious, scrabbled for the police officer’s weapon. With deadly intent Sebastian swept in and landed a punishing kick to the shooter’s face. Blood was everywhere as Sebastian yanked the man’s hair to pull him to his knees. Grabbing the man’s wrist, Sebastian pulled it behind his back at an impossible angle. Just as he heard the satisfying crack of bone, his enemy cried out.

“I guess it’s going to be me, then.” Sebastian grated the words.
 

Except there was a final gunshot. Sebastian reeled back, dropping the man as fragments of skull and brain matter sprayed to the side of him. Without his hold the gunman’s body slumped to the ground, the dead police officer’s pistol in his uninjured hand. Half his head was blown off.