Zara's breath caught in her throat the moment she skidded to a halt, her heart slamming against her chest as she came face-to-face with the barrel of a rifle.
The black metal gleamed coldly, the muzzle pointed directly at her face. Her body froze, the blood in her veins thickening as panic surged within her.
The premonition she'd had before—of a bullet striking her—suddenly came to mind. Was this what it had been trying to tell her? Why then and not right before this happened?
I'm going to die, her thoughts screamed at her. She tried to steady herself, but the tremors in her hands betrayed her. But then, somewhere deep within, the thought of Leo—of his wide, hopeful eyes—came to her. He was waiting for her. Counting on her. A surge of resolve pushed through her, solidifying her stance as she squared her shoulders, even as the rifle remained pointed at her head. Her gaze slowly lifted, steadying, locking onto the man behind the gun—a challenge.
