More gunfire deafened her in the small confines of the garage, and men screamed and fell. Tears wetted her face as men in what looked like black tactical SWAT gear entered the garage.
Police! She thought, hopes rising.
More gunfire and another smaller explosion went off somewhere else in the house. Two men in black darted through the bodies and into the house while two more hung back at the garage entrance. The sounds of violence stopped. The eerie quiet that followed amplified the ringing of her ears. She struggled to move again, to draw their attention so they'd help her.
"All clear!" one called.
She was silently thanking the heavens for rescuing her, until one of the men in black entered the garage and began shooting the downed men a second time around. Disbelief surged through her, and she clenched her eyes closed, praying they thought her dead enough not to shoot her as they did the others. She heard the gunshots getting closer, one body at a time.
There was silence, and she waited. She peered through her eyelashes at two armed men stopped in front of her. The one who had been shooting the others was as large as Talon and plainly Hispanic.
As handsome as he was, her eyes were compelled to the man beside him. His features were chiseled from golden granite, his blue eyes clearer than the Miami shallows. He reminded her of an ancient Greek god, his cold, hard beauty magnified by his sun-kissed skin and dark blond hair. The air around him hummed with energy and command. His hands were clasped behind his back, his muscular chest and flat abs drawing her gaze. He was dressed in black but not in SWAT gear, as if he knew nothing in this world could hurt him.
The Greek prince withdrew the gun at the small of his back, whipping it towards her. Her eyes snapped closed, her last vision that of the most striking man she'd ever seen.
She waited for the end to come. It was the longest second of her life, until she realized he wasn't going to pull the trigger. Her eyes cracked open, and she was startled to see a petite blonde woman in dark jeans standing between them.
The Greek god was cold and intense, his gaze so piercing it made her shrink back even when he wasn't looking at her. His reminded her of a cobra about to strike, though he'd pulled the gun up to his shoulder. He towered over the woman and glared down at her.
"No," the petite woman ordered, her arms crossed.
They waged a silent battle, and Bianca opened her eyes, praying with everything she was worth that the small woman-- whoever she was-- would win. For a long moment, she thought the Greek god would kill the blonde first and then finish her off. As if sensing the same, the blonde bowed her head in deferment without moving.