R Patterson - The Shadow Hunter

He shuffled across the room in his onesie pajama before latching onto her hand. “I miss Daddy.”

“Me too,” she said. “But he’ll be home before you know it.”

She pulled a cup out of the cabinet, filled it halfway up with water, and then screwed the lid on tight. “Let’s get you back in the bed, okay?”

As Alex led John Daniel down the hall to his bedroom, he gulped down his drink. Then she tucked him in before kissing him on the forehead.

“Sweet dreams, little man,” she said.

His eyes were already closed before she left the room, lingering just a while longer at the doorway to enjoy a peaceful moment. She welcomed the distraction from the angst she’d briefly shoved to the back of her mind. The two guards patrolling her property had yet to respond, and she was still concerned.

After she closed the door, she glanced down the hallway and saw one of his rideable metal fire trucks sitting in the entryway. She sighed, aggravated over how John Daniel was a Tasmanian devil, whirling around the house and leaving messes in his wake. However, she stopped short and froze when she heard the floorboards creak again. And this time, she knew it wasn’t John Daniel.

She swallowed hard as she turned around, peering through the shadows to try and make out a silhouetted figure. At first, she didn’t see anything. She crouched low and moved toward the entryway that gave her multiple exit routes. If she needed to, she could run upstairs or in any direction on the first floor. More than anything, she wanted to make sure whoever was in her house wasn’t going to nab John Daniel.

Acting instinctively, she reached for her gun. But she’d put it away after getting ready for bed.

She glanced down the hall leading to John Daniel’s room, but didn’t see any movement.

Despite being hyperaware of her surroundings, she almost didn’t see the man coming until it was too late. Light glinted off the blade in his hand as he lunged toward her.

With her back to the bannister, Alex dropped to the ground and rolled away, ending up at the foot of the stairs. Her options for escape had suddenly shrunk to one. She darted up the stairs, the assailant right on her heels.

On the final step at the top of the stairs, the man grabbed her ankle. Alex tripped on the landing, making her vulnerable for a few seconds. She scrambled to get away, but his arms wrapped around her legs, tackling her face first to the floor again.

Alex kicked and squirmed as the man turned her on her back. She wanted to scream, but if she was going to die like this, she wanted to spare John Daniel the horror of seeing his mother murdered.

“Your husband threw my brother off a cliff,” the man said in a clipped Russian accent. “Now, I’m going to return the favor.”

He pinned Alex’s arms to the floor as he straddled her. She felt the cold steel from the flat side of the blade pressed against her wrist.

I’m not going to die like this.

She appealed to her attacker’s ego. “A real man wouldn’t need to fight so unfairly.”

“You think this is unfair?” he asked. “Fair or not, it’s going to end up the same way for you.”

“Like hell it will,” she said.

As he loosened his grip on her arms to reposition himself, Alex yanked one arm free. As he rushed to pin both her hands down again, she punched him in the throat. He released her other arm as he clutched his neck. Alex hit him in the face with a forearm as he tumbled off of her.

With the knife still firmly in his hand, he jumped to his feet, keeping himself between Alex and the stairs.

Alex’s mind whirred as she considered her next move. Her inability to get downstairs without getting stabbed reduced her options to jumping out of a window, though she doubted she had time to get out.

“If you’re waiting for your friends outside, they won’t be coming,” the Russian said. “I took care of them earlier with a bullet to the head.”

She scowled, still dancing from one side to the other as the man inched closer to her. “You shot them but you want to stab me? Seems like you’re not very good at your job.”

“I wanted you to know why you’re going to die,” he said. “Plus, I have some other plans for us.”

Alex decided to keep the man talking, buying her more time to think of a way to escape the situation.

“If you’re wanting to go get drinks, you’ve got a funny way of inviting a woman out,” she said.

“You think you’re funny,” the man said with a growl. “But you’re not. I’m going to make you pay with your life.”

Alex could tell her goading was starting to irritate the man.

If I just make him mad enough …

Alex cocked her head to one side and squinted. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear that last part. Maybe it’s something in your throat?”

She gestured toward her neck and smirked. And that was all she needed to enrage the man.

The Russian rushed toward Alex, who’d danced around so that her back was to the bannister. He held the knife out as he moved toward her. Alex knew she couldn’t take the man in a fight, but she could use his size against him.

As he drew nearer, Alex slid aside and grabbed the man’s wrist to protect herself from the blade. Then she used his momentum to propel him forward and over the railing. He made contact with it just below his waist, sending him tumbling over the edge. He shouted as he fell.

But he fell quiet when he hit the ground, a sickening crack echoing off the walls. She hustled down the steps as he lay motionless. After retrieving her gun from her bedroom, she returned to the entryway to find the Russian lying in a pool of blood. He tried to say something, but he couldn’t get the words out. Alex wasn’t sure what had ultimately caused his head wound—the marble floor or John Daniel’s fire truck. The Russian struggled to say something while life drained right out of him.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said as she pointed to her ear. “I can’t hear you nor do I care. You were warned.”

The man slowly moved his hand into his jacket pocket.

“That’s far enough,” Alex said.

He spit at her. “Do you really want to do this in front of your son?”

Alex held his gaze, unsure if he was bluffing. She hadn’t noticed if John Daniel had entered the entryway, but she knew better than to even look. With her eyes fixed on the Russian, she moved around the room, blocking any view John Daniel might have if he were to wander out.

“Revenge is rarely satisfying, provided you actually get it,” she said. “Farewell, comrade.”

She pulled the trigger, hitting him in the head. He collapsed, his eyes staring vacantly into the darkness.

Alex reached into his pocket and took his gun. She felt for a pulse but didn’t find one.

The radio crackled from the kitchen, arresting Alex’s attention. She rushed over to it, recognizing Kyle’s voice.

“Kyle, are you okay?” Alex asked.

“I’m fine, but what about you? I thought I just heard a gunshot.”

“I had a visitor,” she said. “And I’m gonna need you and Xander to come down here right now and give me a hand getting this mess cleaned up.”

“That bad, huh? Was it a raccoon getting into your trash?”

She sighed, realizing that he was completely unaware of what had just happened. “No, just a Russian.”

“A what?”

“Just get down here and help me with this.”

While waiting for Kyle and Xander, she peeked in on John Daniel again. He was still fast asleep.

“Thank God,” she whispered to herself.

She went into her bedroom to grab a housecoat when she saw a notification on her phone. It was from a number she didn’t recognize, but she saw there was also a voicemail. Certain the message wasn’t someone trying to sell her an extended auto warranty, she listened and immediately dialed the number back.