Sanctuary

herself, as she hurried down the stairs. He’d taken shelter, and when the worst of the storm had passed, she’d find him. They’d get Brian to the mainland, to a hospital.
    She jolted at the loud crack, the crashing of glass. Her mind froze, envisioning another bullet, more flesh ripped by steel. Then she saw the splintered plywood in the parlor window, the flood of rain that poured in where the tree limb had snapped through it.
    She grabbed a lantern, lighting it and holding it high. She would have to find Giff. As soon as she took the light to Kirby, they would have to get more wood, block the damage before it was irreparable.
    When she whirled back, he was there.
    “This is nice.” Kyle stepped forward into the light. “I was just coming up to get you. No, don’t scream.” He lifted the gun so she could see it clearly. “I’ll kill whoever comes down to see what was wrong.” He smiled widely. “So, how’s your brother doing?”
    “He’s holding on.” She lowered the lantern so the shadows deepened. Beside her, the storm blasted through the splintered wood and spit rain into her face. “It’s been a long time, Kyle.”
    “Not all that long, in the grand scheme of things. And I’ve been in close touch, so to speak, for months. How did you like my work?”
    “It’s ... competent.”
    “Bitch.” The word was quick and vicious, then he shrugged. “Come on, be honest, that last print. You have to admit the creativity of the image, the blending of old and new. It’s one of my best studies.”
    “Clichéd at best. Where’s Nathan, Kyle?”
    “Oh, I imagine he’s just where I left him.” He darted a hand out, quick as a snake, and gripped her by the hair. “For once, I’m not going to worry about taking my big brother’s leftovers. The way I look at it, he was just . . . tenderizing you. I’m much better than he is, at everything. Always have been.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Maybe I’ll show you. We’re going for a little ride.”
    “Out in this?” She feigned resistance as he pulled her to the door. She wanted him out, away from Sanctuary, whatever it took. “You have to be crazy to go out in a category three.”
    “What I am, darling, darling Jo, is strong.” He skimmed his lips over her temple. “Powerful. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you until everything is perfect. I’ve planned it out. Open the door.”
    The lights flashed on. Using the split second of diversion, she swung back with the flashlight, aiming for the groin, but bouncing hard off his thigh. Still, he grunted in pained surprise and loosened his grip. Ripping away, Jo tore open the front door and rushed out into the teeth of the storm. “You want me, you son of a bitch, you come get me.”
    The minute he barreled through the door, she was pitting her will against the gale, and fighting to lead him away from Sanctuary.
    The rain-lashed darkness swallowed them.
    It was less than a minute later when Giff climbed the steps from the basement. He felt the wild gust of wind the instant he turned into the hall. The front door was open wide to the driving rain. With his blood cold, he pulled out the gun he’d tucked in the waistband of his jeans, flicked off the safety, and moved forward. His finger wrapped around the trigger, trembled a breath away from full pressure when Nathan fell through the door.
    “Jo Ellen. Where is she?”
    “What happened to you?” Hating himself, but unwilling to risk, Giff kept the gun aimed as he walked forward.
    “I was coming, my brother ...” He swayed to his feet, brushed a hand over the raw wound on his temple as his vision doubled. “It was my brother.”
    “I thought you said he was dead.”
    “He’s not.” Shaking his head clear, Nathan focused on the gun. “He’s not,” he repeated. “Where’s Jo?”
    “She’s fine and safe and going to stay that way. Brian was shot.”
    “God. Oh, God. Is he dead?”
    “Kirby’s working on him. Step away from the door, Nathan. Close it behind you. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
    “Goddamn it.” He bit off the words as he heard the scream. The blood that had risen to his head to throb blindingly drained. “That’s Jo. She’s out there.”
    “You move, I’ll have to shoot you.”
    “He’s going to kill her. I’m not going to let that happen to her. I’m not letting it happen again. For God’s sake, Giff, help me find her before he does.”
    It was a choice between instinct and caution.