Free Mystical Seduction: full-length sensual paranormal romance (The Protectors) by Dorothy McFalls Page A

the assassin.
    “They call me Ballou.” The assassin’s gaze narrowed. “And
I’m your death.”
    “My death? Why? What have I ever done to you?”
    “You exist.”
    “Okay…okay,” Horace said. Faith could feel the tension
coiling in his body. “Your quarrel is with me. Let the girl go.”
    Ballou shook his head. The mechanical movement turned Faith’s
blood cold. “She stays. Because you had sex with her last night, you and she
are now a package deal. Perhaps this is for the best.” The anger in his voice
vibrated through the room and rattled the ceiling tiles. “ You don’t deserve
her .”
    The assassin pulled the trigger. He gun fired with a
deafening blast.
    Faith felt as if she’d been hit by a train. Oh God, had she
been shot? She found herself lying on her back on the floor, waiting, praying
for the air to come back to her lungs.
    No, not shot, she slowly realized. Horace, moving with
preternatural speed, had somehow rolled her and himself out of the bullet’s
path.
    Probably just dumb luck that they were still alive.
    Ballou adjusted his aim and fired again. This time Faith
felt the bullet wiz by her head before Horace sent her skidding across the
dance floor and out of harm’s way for a second time.
    She curled into a tight ball and prayed some more,
remembering all the reasons she should have stayed away from Horace’s
sexy-as-sin body. What had she been thinking crawling back into his lap?
    He’d warned her and warned her, and now because she’d been
too stubborn to listen she was going to die.
    She didn’t want to die.
    Nor did she want to lose Horace to some madman’s bullet.
    But Faith didn’t know what to do. Her earlier bravado had
fled as soon as the bullets had begun to fly. Perhaps if she tackled the gunman
she could buy enough time for Horace to escape. That way least one of them
would survive the ordeal. But she couldn’t gather enough courage to make such a
risky move. All she could seem to do was huddle on the floor and try not to
cry.
    Horace pulled himself up to his feet and started moving
toward the assassin with his arms raised, his body slightly hunched and ready
for a fight, even though confronting the armed assassin head-on like that had
to be nothing short of suicide.
    Run , a voice—one that didn’t belong to her—ordered
from inside her head. Get out of here, Faith. Go. Run .
    “No,” she whispered. She couldn’t leave Horace. He needed
her. Faith had to get up. She had to find the courage to stand with Horace and
face their attacker. Perhaps together they could—
    The front doors of the club crashed open with an angry force
that literally crackled in the air.
    Someone shouted.
    Its force jolted Faith out of her turtle-pose. She peered
through her half-opened eyes and between the fingers covering her face. A giant
shadow of a man rushed toward her. Faith yelped and scooted out of his way.
    Not too brave, but she had no experience with life-and-death
situations. She didn’t know how to act. With this new unknown on the scene,
staying out of the way seemed like her best course of action.
    Action. She needed to act. Since she’d already decided she
couldn’t leave Horace, Faith crossed running away off her list.
    It took some doing, but she finally pried open her eyes all
the way so she could see what was happening and hopefully avoid letting it
happen to her.
    With her eyes wide open, she could see that the shadow man
that had charged into the building wasn’t a giant, but a man. She recognized the
pale-haired Frank Stone and foggily remembered meeting him the night before.
    This afternoon he stood directly behind the gunman who
squeezed off several shots as Horace dove toward the bar.
    Stone raised his arms like some cinema-grade sorcerer and
shouted, “Be gone!”
    Ballou whirled around. The aim of his pistol shifted from
Horace to Stone. Faith fought an urge to bury her head in her hands again.
Someone was about to be killed. Perhaps all of