Chapter 18 - An Unseen Ambush and the Shattered Light
The luxurious,
extravagant gala continued in a state of tense,
guarded fascination,
with dozens of powerful,
dangerous men approaching our table throughout the long,
exhausting evening,
all offering their deep,
respectful congratulations to the King and his new,
brilliant Queen.
I drank only sparkling water,
keeping my mind completely,
sharply focused,
my eyes constantly,
quietly scanning the massive,
crowded ballroom,
searching for any hidden,
subtle signs of danger lurking in the beautiful,
expensive shadows.
Vincent remained by my side every single,
continuous second,
his large,
warm hand always resting comfortably,
protectively somewhere on my body,
his mere,
powerful presence keeping the most violent,
unpredictable monsters at a safe,
respectful distance.
It was nearly midnight when the grand,
orchestral music suddenly,
unexpectedly stopped,
the musicians on the elevated,
decorated stage looking around in deep,
genuine confusion as their electronic,
heavy equipment abruptly lost all power.
"What is happening,"
I asked quietly,
leaning closer to Vincent,
the hairs on the back of my neck standing up straight,
my newly awakened,
lethal instincts screaming loudly that something was terribly,
fatally wrong.
Before Vincent could even open his mouth to answer,
every single,
brilliant crystal chandelier in the massive,
sprawling ballroom violently,
simultaneously shattered,
plunging the entire,
crowded space into absolute,
pitch-black darkness.
Screams of genuine,
unadulterated terror erupted instantly from the wealthy,
pampered guests,
the chaotic,
deafening sound of glass crashing onto the marble floor mixing violently with the sudden,
terrifying shouts of armed,
panicked bodyguards.
"Get down,"
Vincent roared loudly,
his deep,
commanding voice cutting right through the chaotic,
screaming madness,
his massive,
heavy body instantly covering mine as he dragged me violently,
forcefully down beneath the thick,
protective cover of the heavy wooden table.
The deafening,
explosive roar of automatic,
heavy gunfire suddenly ripped violently through the dark room,
the bright,
flashing muzzle flares illuminating the chaotic,
bloody nightmare in terrifying,
strobe-like bursts of pure,
lethal violence.
Bullets tore violently into the expensive,
plaster walls,
shattering the tall,
glass windows,
tearing viciously through the plush,
velvet chairs,
the sickening,
wet sound of projectiles hitting human flesh echoing horrifyingly over the chaotic,
panicked screams.
"Marcus,"
Vincent shouted into the darkness,
his hands quickly,
expertly drawing two heavy,
loaded pistols from the hidden holsters beneath his dark,
tailored jacket,
his body remaining securely,
immovably positioned completely over my trembling,
fragile frame.
"Here,
Boss,"
Marcus answered firmly from the heavy darkness directly to our left,
the loud,
rhythmic booming of his own massive weapon answering the unseen,
cowardly attackers with brutal,
lethal,
unforgiving precision.
"It is Nikolai's men,"
Vincent concluded rapidly,
his brilliant,
tactical mind instantly analyzing the angle and trajectory of the incoming,
deadly fire,
"He used the verbal confrontation as a distraction to move his heavy,
armed hitters into the upper,
concealed balconies."
I lay perfectly still on the cold,
marble floor,
my breathing shallow,
rapid,
and completely terrified,
my hand instinctively,
desperately reaching down the long,
silk slit of my expensive red dress.
My trembling,
sweaty fingers found the cold,
comforting metal of the small,
silver derringer Vincent had given me earlier,
pulling it smoothly,
silently from the hidden pocket,
my thumb flicking the safety exactly as I had been relentlessly,
strictly taught.
"We cannot stay pinned down here,"
Vincent stated coldly,
firing three rapid,
perfectly aimed shots into the dark balcony above us,
a heavy,
lifeless body instantly crashing violently down onto a nearby,
shattered table,
"They have the superior,
elevated high ground."
"What do we do,"
I asked loudly over the deafening,
continuous roar of gunfire,
forcing myself to remain completely,
absolutely calm,
refusing to let the old,
paralyzing fear take control of my focused,
racing mind.
"We move to the kitchen corridor on my mark,"
Vincent instructed rapidly,
his warm hand gripping my shoulder with a fierce,
desperate strength,
"Marcus will provide heavy,
suppressing cover fire,
and you will run exactly,
strictly behind me,
do not stop for anything,
Lena."
I gripped the small,
silver pistol tightly in my right hand,
nodding fiercely in the pitch-black darkness,
gathering every single,
solitary ounce of courage I possessed in my pounding,
terrified heart.
"Ready,"
Vincent whispered darkly,
the word carrying the heavy,
absolute weight of life and death.
"Go,"
he roared,
leaping up violently from behind the shattered,
ruined table,
and I ran directly,
blindly into the chaotic,
bloody abyss,
trusting my life completely,
May you like
entirely to the beautiful,
lethal monster leading the way.
