‘We can’t leave loose ends,’ I said instead.
Lincoln looked at me strangely but let it go, giving me a tight nod. ‘You don’t want word to spread that you’re here.’
I shrugged. For whatever reason, Sammael had an interest in me and I wasn’t going to make it any easier for him.
‘It’s clever, Vi. You’re a smart fighter,’ he said.
I gulped, wishing the praise didn’t affect me. But Lincoln had been my first trainer, he was my partner – despite what I told myself – and no matter what had happened between us, when it came to the fight his praise carried more weight than anyone else’s.
A crowd in front of us began to clear, and we saw them. As the street hummed with the activity of partygoers the exiles were obvious, remaining statuesque, their eyes intent and fixed on us.
We ran down the side street, trying to get as far into the shadows as possible. In such a populated area it really would have helped if we’d had some glamour Grigori around to mask the inevitable fight, but we were on our own.
When we stopped and turned, the six exiles – all typically handsome, and dressed in varying combinations of fitted denim and leather to blend with the city’s more trendy socialites – were stalking towards us. Their desire for death and blood showed in everything from their hurried, rigid movements to the snarls on their lips and the hunger in their eyes.
We withdrew our Grigori daggers and I pushed out my power, not bothering to delay with so much on the line. My amethyst mist suddenly surrounded me and I heard Lincoln’s intake of breath beside me. I ignored it and pushed my power out, willing it to do my bidding.
The mist moved like an extension of myself, growing until all six exiles were within my range and then I used it to shock them immobile. Lincoln didn’t hesitate.
He stood in front of the first one, who, draped in leather and wearing heavy eyeliner, looked like he should be the lead singer of a band instead of an exiled angel. Lincoln levelled the point of his Grigori blade against the exile’s heart.
‘Release him,’ he said.
I did, keeping the others easily within my hold. I could feel my power urging me on, as if it wanted me to push more and move into my incorporeal state. But I was all too aware of the warnings I’d received. None more so than from Evelyn. She was adamant that I needed to avoid spending too much time within my Sight – and in particular, giving in to the lure of it. I knew she worried that my corporeal body could separate from me permanently. I feared at times she was right.
So, I held myself in place.
‘Choose,’ Lincoln ordered the exile. He stood before Lincoln, a dagger at his chest, and only smiled.
‘There is no choice left. Humanity as you know it is in its final days.’
Lincoln drove his dagger into the exile’s heart, the glistening colours of his power misting the immediate area as he sent the exile to face his judgement. By the time the exile disappeared, Lincoln was facing the next one to deliver the same question.
They had a choice. But not one ever chose this.
Why? I wondered for the millionth time.
Why can’t they see?
Even while they live as men – apart from a few rare exceptions, who take female forms – in our world they have no idea what it is to be human. They don’t see the beauty that emotions bring and a physical body provides. When they exile and find human form, only insanity awaits.
All six chose the same end. Lincoln and I were methodical, but we knew each time what answer to expect. As soon as the last one was returned I spun to check no partygoers had stumbled across the scene, just in time to see the four exiles I’d been too preoccupied to sense drop from the rooftops on either side of us.
Before I had a chance to unleash my power again, I caught a fist to the face and a foot to the gut. There was no way around this one but combat.
Again Lincoln didn’t hesitate. He faced the two who had landed closest to him while I quickly found my footing and tended to the other two. Of course, just as I thought that this wouldn’t be too bad, another two dropped down in front of me.
Shit.
The sounds of flesh against flesh echoed from the narrow street as Lincoln and I fought hard. I took down one exile quickly, but the other three boxed me in and I copped it from all sides. I saw the glow of Lincoln’s power in my peripheral vision, relieved to see he’d dispersed one of his opponents.
I took a few hard hits to the side of my face, and damn if my temple didn’t want to explode as I felt my nose trickle blood. I managed to angle my dagger up and take out one more exile, leaving me with two to deal with.
I saw Lincoln’s power erupt again and I quickly divided myself off from one of the exiles now facing me, knowing that Lincoln would pick up the slack. But the one fighting me was tall and had a footballer’s muscular and wide build. On top of that, he was old and therefore experienced, which made him fast and strong. With the beating I’d already taken, he was quickly gaining ground on me. When I kicked out hard, causing his arm to snap back, he struck me hard across the side of my face, the force throwing me to the ground. I shuffled backwards.
He shook his head, smiling. And then he stepped on my hand, breaking the small bones instantly and causing me to lose my grip on my dagger.
I really hate that.
I kept scurrying back as he prowled over me. ‘Like all the rest of them in the end, aren’t you? Crawling on your hands and knees? Just as you should.’
I let him talk. They couldn’t help themselves, especially if they got one up on me. Their egos simply exploded.
‘Will you beg now?’ he goaded.
While he told me I was the scum of the universe and that he would take pleasure in feeding my insides to the river rats, I gradually edged back and reached for the arrow resting against my spine.
Lincoln’s power erupted one more time and I heard him run in my direction, screaming my name. But I kept my eyes fixed on the exile – who had just stunned me by pulling out a gun.
Exiles have no ethics. It’s a well-understood fact for all Grigori that exiles will kill them with no regret, but we hardly ever see guns. Exiles can barely contemplate the idea of giving up a barehanded kill to a human-made weapon. They enjoy the power of blades, sure, but not guns.
My eyes went wide as he cocked the safety, smiling even as he cradled his left arm, which looked broken.
And will heal in about one minute.
I knew that if Lincoln threw himself in front of me, the exile would shoot him dead. Desperate to protect Lincoln, I let my eyes dart to him quickly and called out just two words. ‘Trust me!’
I didn’t have time to look back again. I half expected the exile to already be turning on Lincoln and firing, but instead he maintained his stance over me, kicking me hard on my shin for good measure. I grunted. It hurt like hell and had my vision blacking out for a second, but I was fairly certain he hadn’t broken it.
My fingers touched my arrow.
I just have to get it out and tip it with my blood.
Suddenly grateful I hadn’t bothered with my wrist cuffs since taking them off at dinner, my hand wrapped around the arrow and I moved it down from underneath my shirt, my broken and trembling hand somehow holding me up.
The exile, smiling victoriously, swung his boot out again, this time colliding with the same side of my face that had already taken too many hard knocks. He aimed the gun.
I saw his trigger-finger twitch. But I was already moving. Using the speed that Phoenix had gifted me, and ignoring the pain that shot through my leg and hand, I sliced the arrow across my wrist and threw it straight and true into the exile’s chest. The gun went off as I flung my body hard to the left, managing to protect my heart, catching the bullet in my shoulder as reward.
Panting hard, I kept my eyes on the exile the whole time, watching his smile disappear just before he did. And as soon as he was gone, I saw beyond, to where Lincoln stood, exactly where I’d seen him last, when I’d begged him to
trust me.
And my heart stuttered to life.
Because he had.
CHaPteR tweNty-SeVeN
‘Things do not change; we change.’
Henry David Thoreau
‘Can you walk?’ Lincoln asked, his voice controlled but strained.
It was a good question.
The fact was, I was stunned stupid and it had nothing to do with the bullet or various other injuries.
‘I think so,’ I said, desperately trying to rally. ‘You didn’t help me,’ I blurted, clearly failing.
He paused, looming over me, eyebrow raised. ‘You asked me to trust you. I do.’ He held out his hand and I took it, still dazed as he pulled me to my feet. He focused his attention on my shoulder and methodically checked the entry and exit wounds until he was satisfied. He gestured to my hand. ‘Broken?’
‘Yes.’
‘There could be more on the way. We need to get back to the safe house,’ Lincoln said, keeping his eyes on our surroundings, all while mine stared dumbly at him.
‘Were you hurt?’ I asked.
He glanced at me briefly, then away.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, swaying a little as I adjusted my weight to the leg that hurt the least.
His eyes shot to me then, overflowing with so much emotion that some of it spilled into me so hard I staggered back a step.
I gasped.
Fear. Conflict. Concern. Desperation. Longing … Love.
He shook his head as if he knew I could sense it all. ‘You’re bleeding and broken, Violet, and I stood by and let it happen. I’m trying here, but … Jesus, let’s just get you back so I can …’ He closed his eyes and drew a deep, shuddering breath before opening them again, resigned. ‘So you can fix yourself.’
I nodded and let him put my good arm around his neck as we jogged towards the safe house. I tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the pain. But it was starting to become abundantly clear that the real pain was not about to go away. Not unless I was willing to do something about it.
Sneaking the odd glance at Lincoln while he helped support my weight, I didn’t know what to make of the night. He’d only been back in my life for a handful of days and already I was starting to question everything.
I’d left for a reason.
A good reason.
I’d consoled myself day and night that my motives had been valid. If I’d stayed behind I honestly believed that he would have died, but something … He was different. Changed in a way that can only occur through time and contemplation.
I paused as we reached the gates to the safe house.
‘Are you okay?’ Lincoln asked, worry creasing his forehead.
I nodded, but really, I wasn’t okay.
Not even close.
Because I realised one other thing.
‘I’ve changed too,’ I admitted to myself, not noticing I’d said the words aloud until Lincoln’s hand brushed the hair back from my bloodied face.
He tilted my chin until my eyes met his.
Beautifully green, even in the dark.
‘Some things never change, Vi,’ he said, his voice husky, his fingers lingering on my face.
I was faintly aware of the blood dripping from my fingers as my arm hung limp at my side. I also vaguely noticed that lights had come on, flooding the area around us, and that voices were nearing. But only one thing held my focus. Kept me grounded.
I stared into Lincoln’s eyes and I knew he was the only one who would ever truly see me.
Suddenly, he broke eye contact and everything else came rushing towards me. The light, the people, the noise.
‘What the hell have you done now?’ Phoenix hissed, pushing others aside until he was in front of me.
I hobbled around to face him. ‘I’m fine.’
But of course, he didn’t bother listening to me and had already turned on Lincoln, shoving him in the chest. ‘You’re supposed to protect her! Not bring her back in pieces!’
Lincoln stepped into Phoenix’s space, still managing to keep a supportive arm around me. ‘She’s already in pieces!’ he growled, his nose almost touching Phoenix’s. ‘And we’re the ones who did it to her. Or have you forgotten that part?’
Phoenix’s jaw clenched at Lincoln’s words, but his eyes flashed to mine just long enough for me to glimpse his pain and guilt.
‘Phoenix, I’m okay,’ I said with a sigh.
‘What happened?’ Gray asked, moving forward and serving stern looks to Lincoln and Phoenix, which they both ignored.
‘Exiles,’ Lincoln answered, still glaring at Phoenix. ‘Ten of them.’
Gray snorted. ‘That all,’ he said, pulling me away from Lincoln, who let my arm slide from his as they walked me up the stairs.
‘You want me to carry you?’ Gray asked.
I saw Lincoln, at my side, shake his head to himself with an almost smile as I shot Gray a furious look. Phoenix stood by the doorway, also smirking. Gray raised his free hand in surrender. ‘It was just an offer,’ he mumbled.
I’m no victim. If my legs work, they carry me.
Steph was suddenly on the other side of me, nudging an increasingly frustrated Lincoln out of her way. I blinked. ‘When did you get here?’ I asked, worried that she’d been in this city alone.
‘They helicoptered me in about twenty minutes ago. Is that a bullet wound?’
‘Yep,’ I said.
Steph shook her head and tried to keep her expression calm. She knew me. Knew I hated the fuss or looking weak. Lincoln was right: some things never do change.
‘Well, Griffin will be appalled,’ she said.
I smiled, remembering how Griffin felt about the fighting code. ‘Speaking of?’
They moved me through the front door and towards the bedroom I was sharing with Zoe.
‘He’s fine. He’s on his way to New York and he’ll be heading this way once he’s checked in on Nyla.’
‘I’m glad he’s on his way there. He should stay with her.’
Steph rolled her eyes. ‘Do you really expect him to leave the fight to everyone else?’
Enough said.
Gray helped me ease myself down onto the edge of the bed. I looked up at everyone hovering around me, including half a dozen overgrown male Grigori crowding the small room. I was surprised to note that Carter had pushed his way into the throng.
How have I managed to go from having no one to rooms packed with bodies in just a few days?
My shoulder was burning alive but I settled a bored expression on them.
‘I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine. I’ll be good as gold when you all give me a little privacy and I can have a soak in the bath.’
Gray and Carter nodded, grabbing Ray on their way and pulling him out of the room.
Lincoln remained with Phoenix hovering by the doorway, somehow managing to ignore one another. I sighed and looked at my watch. It was ten p.m.
‘Lincoln, I’ll help her. I’ll call you if we need you,’ Steph said gently.
Best. Friend. Ever.
His eyes cut to hers, as hard as steel but then softened and he nodded. ‘I’ll be in my room going over plans for tomorrow. We’ll move out for recon at first light.’
I nodded and he headed out the door, looking back briefly. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’
I heard him walk down the hall and a door close.
‘Phoenix, you too,’ I said. ‘I’m fine. I just need to get cleaned up.’
He studied my face for lies.
I sighed. ‘Please. And promise me you won’t leave the safe house tonight.’
He tilted his head. ‘I’ll stay here tonight. We need to talk about Sammael.’
I kicked off my boots. ‘We’ll talk as soon as I’m healed.’ ‘That might take a while,’ he said before disappearing down the hall.
Whatever.
I slumped back onto my bed and Steph closed the door, giving us some privacy.
‘Okay, what gives?’ she asked, ha
nds on hips.
I closed my eyes, trying to breathe successfully. ‘We were attacked. Everything was fine and I was down to the last one when he pulled a gun. I was on the ground and I thought Lincoln was going to throw himself in front of me,’ I explained.
‘Totally understandable Lincoln behaviour,’ Steph agreed.
I nodded. ‘Right. But then, I asked him to trust me and he … he stood back and let me fight. I could’ve died.’
We were both silent. She knew what I was saying, what a huge thing it was.
‘He loves you, Vi,’ Steph said eventually, her own voice thick with emotion.
She was a romantic. I knew better. ‘It doesn’t mean everything will be okay, Steph. Too much has happened.’
She plonked down on the mattress beside me, taking little care to avoid my injuries even when I winced. She put a hand on my knee.
‘You’re scared. I get it. You’ve been through so much. No one will ever understand what you’ve been forced to face and sacrifice. But in spite of the fact you’ve spent the past two years running from him … He. Loves. You. And, honey, that’s not his curse like you make it seem. It’s his existence. His choice. And he’s entitled to it.’ She squeezed my knee. ‘At some point you’re going to have to let yourself live and take the chances that everyone else does. And that’s not because you’re Grigori, Vi, that’s because you’re human.’
She blew out a breath and flung her hands in the air before letting them flop back down. ‘Everything is so huge with you. Big moments. Life-threatening sacrifices. World-changing triumphs. But love isn’t like that. Love is all the small moments. It’s what fills the quiet.’ She sat up suddenly, looking down at me. ‘Do yourself a favour and just sit in the quiet for a while, and hear what fills it.’
She stood up and walked to the door. She looked at me and smiled. ‘And then do us all a favour and listen, because Lincoln isn’t the only one who misses you.’
She closed the door behind her. Desperate to concentrate on something else, I quickly refocused on healing my bullet wound, but I only made it far enough to just close the wound. It would need a lot more attention, along with my hand and the rest of me, later, but Steph’s words had hit hard, and, driven by some crazy compulsion, I was suddenly shoving my feet back in my boots and slipping down the stairs. I was grateful yet again that my defensive shields helped keep me beneath Phoenix’s and Lincoln’s radars. Getting caught sneaking out would not go down well, but I needed this.
Empower: Violet Eden Chapters: Book Five Page 23