[Elena's POV]

"Mr. Marlowe!" my mom screamed, her voice tearing through the deafening roar of automatic gunfire.

She dropped to her knees on the glass-covered marble. Marco lay flat on his back, his dark suit rapidly absorbing the thick, dark blood pouring from his chest. Jane pressed both her hands directly over the bullet holes, her fingers instantly slick with crimson.

Noah stepped out from behind the pillar.

I looked at his face and my blood ran cold.

Noah, standing in the flickering ...