Blood On White Silk
1100 Words
"Don't move."
Ares' weight crushed the air from Seraphina's lungs. His body covered hers completely, one hand holding her head against the marble floor.
*Can't breathe. Can't…*
"Is she hit?" A man's voice. Close. "Sir, is she…"
"I don't know." Ares shifted slightly. His hand moved down her side, checking. "Are you bleeding?"
*Yes. No. I don't know.*
Seraphina's hand still held the shattered champagne glass. Blood ran between her fingers…hers or someone else's, she couldn't tell.
"Talk to me." Ares' voice was sharp. "Are you hit?"
"I don't…I can't…"
Another crash. More screaming.
"SOUTHWEST CORNER!" Someone shouted. "SECOND SHOOTER!"
*Second shooter. There's more than one.*
Ares cursed. Pulled her tighter against him.
"Marcus!" He yelled over the chaos. "WHERE'S MY f*****g CAR?"
"Thirty seconds!" A man in a black suit appeared beside them, gun drawn. "Sir, we need to move now…"
"Then move us."
Marcus grabbed Seraphina's arm. Pulled her up.
Her legs wouldn't work. The ballroom spun…flipped tables, broken glass, guests hiding behind columns.
*This is real. People are dying and it's because of me.*
"Go!" Ares pushed her forward. "NOW!"
She stumbled. Her injured feet screamed. The wedding dress tangled around her legs.
"I can't…the dress…"
Ares ripped the train clean off. Silk tore with a sound like breaking bones.
"Move."
Marcus pulled her through a side exit. Ares followed, one hand on her back, the other on his phone.
"Perimeter breach. Two shooters confirmed. I want them alive…" He paused. "I don't care how many civilians saw. Lock it down."
*Civilians. He means witnesses.*
They crashed through a service hallway. White walls, bright lights, kitchen staff pressed against walls with hands raised.
"OUT!" Marcus shouted. "EVERYBODY OUT!"
They scattered.
The back exit doors burst open. A black SUV waited at the curb, engine running, back door open.
"IN!" Marcus threw Seraphina inside.
She landed hard on leather seats. Ares dove in after her. The door slammed.
"DRIVE!" Ares yelled.
The SUV took off. Tires screamed. Seraphina's head cracked against the window.
*Going to be sick. I'm going to…*
"Head down!" Ares forced her face into his lap. "STAY DOWN!"
Something hit the back windshield. Not a bullet. Heavier.
"ROCKET!" The driver turned hard left.
The explosion came from behind. Heat. Light. The SUV rocked but kept moving.
"THEY'RE FOLLOWING!" Marcus twisted around from the passenger seat. Gun in hand. "Three cars. Black sedans. No plates."
"Lose them." Ares' voice was ice. "Whatever it takes."
*This isn't happening. This can't be…*
The SUV took a corner at seventy. Seraphina's stomach flipped.
"Sir…" Marcus was typing on his phone. "I'm getting reports. Waiter. Dead. Two guests injured. Security caught three suspects but…"
"But what?"
"They're not talking. And they all have the same tattoo."
*The tattoos. The same ones from my apartment.*
Seraphina tried to sit up. Ares pushed her back down.
"Stay." He wasn't asking. "We're not clear yet."
Another turn. Her shoulder slammed into the door.
"WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?" She couldn't hold it in anymore. "Why are they…"
"Quiet." Ares' hand covered her mouth. "Not now."
*He's protecting me. But why? He knows I'm not…*
The SUV straightened out. Highway. Open road.
"Clear." The driver's voice. "We're clear, sir."
"You're sure?" Ares didn't move his hand.
"Three cars back. All ours. We lost them at the tunnel."
"Good." Ares finally released her mouth. "Take us to the penthouse. Use the private entrance."
"Yes, sir."
Seraphina sat up slowly. The SUV's interior was black leather, tinted windows, and enough tech on the dashboard to launch a missile.
*This isn't a car. It's a tank.*
"Let me see your hand." Ares grabbed her wrist.
"I'm fine…"
"Let me see it."
He pulled her fingers open. The champagne glass fell to the floor, blood-slick and broken.
Her palm was torn up. Deep cuts across the center, glass still stuck in two places.
"Christ." Ares pulled a first aid kit from under the seat. "Marcus. Tweezers."
"Sir, we should get her to a hospital…"
"No hospitals." He grabbed the tweezers himself. "They'll have people there."
*They. Who's they?*
"This is going to hurt." Ares didn't wait for permission. He dug the tweezers into her palm.
Seraphina bit her lip. Tasted blood.
"Don't." His eyes flicked up. "Don't hide it. Scream if you need to."
"I don't…" Another piece of glass came out. "...I don't scream."
"Everyone screams eventually." He dropped the glass into a small container. "You're just stubborn."
*Vivienne would scream. Vivienne would demand pain medication and throw a fit.*
He pulled out the second piece. Wrapped her hand in bandages. Tape. His movements were quick, practiced.
"You've done this before." The words slipped out.
"Yes." He secured the bandage. "Unfortunately."
Marcus turned around. "Sir, we're ten minutes out. Do you want me to call…"
"No calls." Ares' jaw was tight. "No one knows where we are. Not family. Not staff. No one."
"Understood."
*He's isolating me. Cutting me off from everyone.*
Seraphina pulled her hand back. "I need to contact…"
"Who?" Ares leaned back, watching her. "Who do you need to contact, Vivienne?"
*The way he says that name. Like he knows it's wrong.*
"My family. They'll be worried…"
"Your family planned this wedding." His voice was cold. "Why would they be worried?"
"Because someone just tried to kill…"
"You?" He tilted his head. "Or me?"
*What?*
"What are you…"
"The first shot." He pointed to her bandaged hand. "Shattered your glass. Not mine. The angle was wrong for a kill shot on me."
*He analyzed it. In the middle of chaos, he analyzed the angle.*
"They were aiming for you." His eyes narrowed. "Specifically."
Seraphina's throat closed.
"Which means…" He leaned forward. "...someone wants my bride dead. And since Vivienne Montclair has no enemies except me…"
"That's not…"
"Don't interrupt." His hand shot out, gripped her chin. "You froze."
*What?*
"When the glass shattered. You froze." His thumb brushed her jaw. "Vivienne Montclair was raised with private security. Her father hired bodyguards when she was twelve. She's been through active shooter drills, hostage training, tactical awareness courses."
*Oh God. Oh no.*
"She wouldn't freeze." His grip tightened. "She'd drop and roll left. Standard protocol. But you?"
His smile was razor-sharp.
"You froze like someone who's never been shot at before today." He pulled her closer. "Like someone who's terrified. Unprepared. Completely out of her depth."
*He knows. He's known since the ceremony.*
"So let's try this again." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And this time, tell me the truth."
The SUV pulled into an underground garage. Concrete. Shadows. Empty.
"Who are you really, Mrs. Valerian?"
- Writer
