“Get her out of here,” Dante said, not looking at me.

He was addressing the younger guard near the door.

“Take the service van through the south pasture. Leave the state.”

The guard nodded, his hand tight on his holster.

“Come on, lady,” the guard said, reaching for my elbow.

I didn’t move.

I looked at the monitor on the wall.

The men in tactical gear were spreading out across the courtyard.

They carried short-barreled rifles with suppressed barrels.

I recognized the gray camouflage pattern on their vests.

It belonged to the Kroll syndicate.

Charles Vance was their lead enforcer, the man who had hunted me for two years.

“They aren’t here for the horse,” I said.

Dante turned his head slowly to look at me.

His gray eyes were perfectly still despite the sirens.

“They are here for me,” I said. “And they won’t stop at the state line.”

“I can get you clean papers,” Dante said. “A new name. Far from here.”

“My people can have you in Canada by sunrise.”

“You do not owe me anything, Mara. You healed my horse.”