Chapter 40 - The Shadow on the Threshold
My blood turned to pure fire.
I raised the Glock, kicked through the conservatory side door, and stepped into the pitch-black hallway. The sudden crash drew the beam of an assault light straight onto my chest.
"Freeze!" a voice barked.
I fired twice. The man went down with a heavy thud on the rug. The second guard turned, raising a carbine, but before his finger could squeeze the trigger, a suppressed *thwip-thwip* shattered the window above him. The second gunman collapsed instantly into the darkness.
Footsteps pounded on the grand staircase.
I bolted into the main foyer, weapon raised, stepping over the fallen men, my eyes straining against the darkness.
Up at the top of the grand stairs stood Richard Vance, unblemished, dripping with arrogance in an immaculate wool overcoat. In his left hand, he held a silenced pistol. Behind him, on the floor of the landing, Nora lay unconscious, a dark pool spreading from her temple.
And clutched tightly in Richard’s right hand was Lily’s pink velvet purse.
"Right on time, nephew," Richard smiled, his voice echoing smoothly down the cavernous hall. "I was wondering if Julian's dying breath would reach you in time to witness this."
Before I could raise my gun, the glass of the massive skylight sixty feet above our heads shattered with the force of an artillery shell.
A heavy grappling line shot through the darkness, anchoring into the oak beam above the landing. A silhouette dropped through the rain and the falling glass, hitting the marble steps between Richard and me with a bone-jarring crash.
The figure rose slowly in the deluge pouring through the ruined roof, wiping blood and rain from a scarred, burned face.
It was Julian.
In his right hand was a detonator. In his left, flickering defiantly beneath the pouring rain, was the silver flame.
"Drop the child's bag, Richard," Julian rasped, his voice vibrating with lethal certainty. "Or none of us leave this house alive."
Richard didn't flinch. Instead, a terrifying, triumphant grin stretched across his face as he tapped his ear piece.
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"You're too late, boys," Richard whispered. "Look at the window behind you, Marcus."
I turned my head toward the library doors. Through the tall glass, standing in the rain on the front lawn, was a dozen red laser dots pointing directly at the nursery window—and inside the room, visible in the lightning flash, a third man had Lily in his arms.
