Chapter 8: When the Horses Ran

Matteo struck the gunman’s arm against the pew and caught Lorenzo’s pistol as it fell.

The man at the altar turned toward the bell. Lorenzo knocked his weapon aside before he could fire. The shot tore through a stained-glass saint above us.

Mara opened the side door.

I ducked behind the altar, pulling her down with me as another shot struck its stone edge.

Outside, horses answered the bell. Their cries rose from the stable yard, sharp with fear.

Balthazar wheeled toward the open door. His lead caught under a hoof, snapped free, and dragged after him as he bolted into daylight.

For one horrible second, I thought I’d lost him.

Then Mara grabbed my sleeve.

“Stay down.”

Matteo fired from behind the pew. One gunman fell. Another backed toward the front doors, using his fallen companion as cover.

Lorenzo had forced the fourth man against a pillar. He tore the gun from his hand and struck him across the face.

Dritan disappeared from my view.

I turned to find him.

His hand closed in my hair.

Pain shot across my scalp. He pulled me up before I could catch the altar edge, dragging me against his chest.

A knife touched the skin beneath my jaw.

“Stop!”

Lorenzo turned. His recovered weapon rose toward us.

“Drop it,” Dritan shouted.

Matteo held still behind the pew. Mara crouched beside the open door, clutching her bag.

I could feel Dritan breathing against my ear.

“You should have taken my hand.”

I couldn’t answer. The blade pressed harder when I swallowed.

Lorenzo stood six feet away. Blood darkened his shirt at the side.

I hadn’t seen him get hit.

His eyes stayed on mine.

“Let her go,” he said.

“Tell your men to clear the lower road. Get me a vehicle. She comes with me.”

Behind Dritan, through the side doorway, I saw black movement.

Balthazar stood on the gravel, head high, looking toward the shouting.

I made a small sound through my nose. Not a word. The low sound Grandpa used when a horse couldn’t see him clearly.

One of Balthazar’s ears turned.

Dritan jerked me backward.

“No talking.”

He shifted toward the side exit, wanting the shortest route out. I caught my heel against the leg of the last pew, making him drag instead of walk.

The knife lifted from my skin for a fraction of a second as he adjusted his grip.

Balthazar stepped into the doorway.

“Get that animal out of here,” Dritan snapped.

“He won’t listen to me,” Lorenzo said.

I recognized what he was doing. Keeping Dritan facing forward. Keeping his attention on the gun.

The horse snorted. Dritan twisted toward the sound and pulled me with him.

I dropped my weight and pushed backward into his legs.

He lost his balance just as Balthazar surged through the doorway, frightened by the sudden movement and the shouting.

The stallion’s shoulder struck Dritan. His hand tore free of my hair. The knife scraped my neck and fell.

I landed on my knees behind the pew.

Lorenzo fired.

Dritan crashed against the wall, screaming, one hand clamped over his knee.

Matteo moved out of cover and took the gun from the last man still standing.

“On the floor. Now.”

The man obeyed.

For a moment, all I could hear was the bell’s fading vibration and my own breath.

Mara reached me first.

“Don’t stand yet.”

I touched my neck. My fingers came away red, but the cut was shallow.

Lorenzo knelt beside me.

“Where does it hurt?”

“My knees. My hip. I’m not sure.”

His eyes went to my stomach.

I pressed a hand against it and waited.

Nothing.

“Nora?”

“Wait.”

He did.

Then something moved beneath my palm. A kick, followed by a slower stretch.

I bent my head and started crying.

Mara put a hand on my shoulder. “We still need to examine you. But that’s good.”

Lorenzo reached toward me, stopping short of my belly.

I took his hand and placed it where the child had moved.

Another kick met his fingers.

He lowered his head.

I wanted to leave my hand there, to let that small movement answer every question we’d been afraid to ask. But blood was soaking through his shirt, and Dritan was still moving near the wall.

“Mara,” I said. “Look at him.”

Lorenzo drew back before she could reach his side.

“Check Nora first.”

“She has,” I told him. “You don’t get to use me as an excuse.”

He looked surprised enough that I might have laughed on another day.

I reached into the open medical bag and handed Mara a fresh packet of dressings. Her wounded arm made opening it difficult, so I tore the wrapper for her.

Matteo kept his weapon trained on the aisle while she pressed the dressing against Lorenzo’s shirt. For the moment, each of us had something useful to do. I held on to that.

Outside, the sound of hooves grew louder.

Through the doorway, I saw the stable doors standing open. Horses moved up the lane toward the upper paddock, handlers keeping them away from the smoke. Several broke into a run, and the others followed.

Vehicles parked across the exercise lane had to reverse to clear their path. Men who had been watching the chapel scattered from the fence line.

Matteo spoke into his radio.

“South team, chapel. The route’s clear now. Bring medical help.”

Dritan crawled toward his knife.

Balthazar stood over it, pawing at the loose rope beside the blade.

Dritan froze when the hoof came down inches from his hand.

Matteo collected the knife and moved it out of reach.

“Stay where you are.”

Lorenzo tried to rise.

His hand slipped from mine.

I caught his wrist as he leaned against the pew. Blood spread beneath his jacket.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s manageable.”

Mara looked once and knelt beside him.

“Sit down.”

“We need to get her—”

“She can sit. You may not be able to in another minute.”

I pulled a clean cloth from the medical bag and handed it over.

Lorenzo watched me while Mara pressed it against his side.

“You should go with the first vehicle.”

“We’re both going.”

Footsteps approached outside. Matteo checked through the doorway, then waved in two Falcone guards carrying a medical kit.

Mara gave instructions. Someone unfolded a stretcher.

Lorenzo tried to speak again, but his face had gone pale.

I knelt beside him and caught his hand.

“You don’t get to disappear now,” I said.

His fingers tightened around mine.

Then his eyes closed.