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PROLOGUE: THE ENDING OF UNFINISHED BUSINESS

It would be one big understatement to say that things didn't look good. I had called for backup before going to that warehouse, but it was a long ride from the city. I knew that it would take them at least twenty minutes to arrive, if we were lucky.

I had known when we'd left the warmth of my house that we would be on our own if we were really going to do this. I knew that it was somewhat of a suicide mission. Yet, I couldn't have waited for my team to arrive, not without knowing that I had allowed one more person to die in this mess – and I wouldn't have anybody else's blood on my hands. Not again. Not this time.

I took a deep breath and looked back at the man beside me. My number one suspect. The one person in all these years in the field who had managed to mess with my instincts and take me off guard, the one person who had made me lose my cool. The one guy who had gotten past my walls. And now, the only backup I would have in this crazy stunt we were about to pull.

He must have seen something in my eyes that gave away my thoughts, because he suddenly smiled and pulled my fingers – which I had intertwined with his without even noticing it – to his lips for a second. "We'll be fine, shotgun. Let's go get some bad guys."

Despite all the certainty that this was crazy, I laughed. How could I not, when he seemed so damn confident? Get some bad guys. He made it seem so simple. Wasn't that what I had been doing my whole life, anyway, chasing bad guys? Yes, he was right. We would be alright. And if we weren't alright, at least I would know that his sister's blood wasn't in my hands, that no innocent blood would ever be in my hands again. And to me that was enough. "Okay. Let's go get some bad guys."

With a smirk, I opened my door and stepped out of the car, cocking the gun in my hand so it was ready for use. I heard him do the same on the passenger side. No more innocent blood. Just then, there was a scream from inside the warehouse. At least that meant she was still alive. Without one more word, we both ran to the door, guns ready.

The door was unlocked, like they couldn't be bothered by something as small as keeping people out. Not that they would have needed that, hadn't we finally found out their location, being in the middle of nowhere. It was as dark inside as out there in the rain, the only light coming from a door that wasn't fully closed, to our left. That was obviously where the scream we had heard had come from.

As quietly as we could, we ran to that door, and I looked inside to see something that made my stomach turn. Anya was hung from the ceiling by a rope tied around her wrists, naked, and a man behind her was forcing a ball gag into her mouth – presumably to keep her from screaming again. There was blood dripping off her right breast from a long cut that looked pretty deep, made just above her nipple. While she struggled against the man with the ball gag, the monster in front of her laughed, a dagger glistening threateningly in his hand, half of it already red with her blood.

I suddenly wished I had gone alone. I wished Damien wasn't just behind me, seconds away from seeing what I had just witnessed. Wishing didn't solve anything, though, and he was there. He was, and I had a decision to make in the two seconds it would take him to look through that door.

I wouldn't let him focus on the horror of the scene. I wouldn't let him put his emotions in the way of what we had to do. No, I would take charge like I always did.

Mind made up, I pushed the door open with my foot, finger already pressing the trigger and sending my first bullet into Viktor's neck. Well, that dagger wouldn't be doing any more damage anytime soon. And then all hell broke loose.

My next shot hit the ball gag guy in the chest, and that was the last thing that went without a reaction. As Damien came up beside me, shooting everyone he could in the room, Viktor's men started to shoot back, and we separated to take cover wherever we could.

I couldn't tell how long we had been there for, I couldn't tell how many bullets had left my gun, how many times I had reloaded already, I just knew that I had taken down at least fifteen men, and that Damien had done a similar damage, besides somehow being able to get his sister out of the crossfire. Against all odds, it looked like we were winning this battle.

Then suddenly all I could feel was pain. It eradiated from my lower back to the rest of my body until I felt like every little piece of me was on fire. So this is what it feels like to get shot. Or is it dying?

One last gun shot rang loud through the air, followed by a distant voice that screamed my name. I know that voice.

And then I didn't see anything else, or hear anything else, or feel anything else.