by T. F. Walsh
“Then I’m ripping out your spine.” The man stepped closer, his chin high. His torn T-shirt hung off a shoulder, smudged in blood.
Gaige retreated, Axel at his mercy. I locked eyes with Axel, his face pale, yet he kept gawking at the bar and me again. I trailed his line of sight and spotted a door.
Did he want me to leave? Wasn’t happening. The heaviness of the room weighed on my chest. I could take out a couple of the gang associates, but five of them stood between Axel and me.
Think. I studied the glasses and vodka. A working sink sat in the corner. I launched myself over the counter. No idea if this would work, but I had to try. I grabbed an empty bucket from under the sink and filled it with water. Two men still in their booth watched me with interest. Well, who gave a hoot because Axel could die. For him, I’d fight everyone in this room.
The leader barked, “Stop wasting my time.”
“Хуй тебе́!” Gaige said, insisting he owed nothing… or more literally, that he’d give him a dick in the ass and mouth.
The gang leader roared. Hell. I set the full bucket on the counter and climbed over the bar. No one paid attention when a world war was starting.
“Ни хуя́ себе́! Fae!” Someone spat and pointed in my direction, gaining everyone’s attention, their eyes on my neck.
I froze beneath piercing stares.
“Don’t just stand there, shit-for-brains. Get her,” the leader bellowed over his shoulder.
With the bucket in both hands, I splashed the contents over the floor, drenching the five sets of legs, including the dickhead storming toward me.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
A spark of energy bubbled underneath my skin, fueled by rage. After last night’s sleep, I stood recharged, but no mistakes of emptying myself this time. I smirked. “Get ready to dance, boys.”
I extended my arm. A line of white light pulsed from my fingertips, striking the ground. The streak of electricity burst outward, weaving in and out of the water, banding around the men’s legs. An unnatural hum blanketed the room.
Gaige recoiled, Axel pouncing on him, both of them out of reach of the water.
As if the gang leaders had touched a live wire, they convulsed, the acrid smell hitting my nostrils. They thrashed on the spot, knives dropping from their hands. Voices from others in the bar faded, and a few were standing on tables. If the end of the world was coming, who gave a shit if they saw my ability?
The hired killer shoved Axel toward the spasming group, his feet splashing water. Axel fell to his knees, shaking, foaming at the mouth. My pulse spiked, and I rushed to Axel’s side. With hands hooked under his armpits, I hauled him away. He leaned against the wall, gasping for air, his eyelids fluttering.
“Hold on, okay?”
Our target was bolting up the steps, leaving the drinking room. No time to waste. Surely, Axel would be okay. Right?
Chapter 24
Killing the assassin was out of the question. We needed him to exchange information with the broker. But if he turned up bruised and battered, I doubted anyone would care. I scrambled up the steps of the Drunk Bear drinking room, leaving the gang I’d just zapped. I turned back for a split second, staring at Axel slumped against the wall, still twitching a bit. He would survive but may need more time to recover. Sure, a hammer of guilt pummeled into my gut, but if I didn’t stop Gaige, he’d vanish, and we’d end up with the broker’s gang on our tail and no clue to follow on the vulsines.
Sunlight scorched against my shoulders. I squinted, scanning the land stretching outward. To my right, Gaige darted toward the next building. No hesitation, my adrenaline kicked in, and I chased the bastard.
A quick look over his shoulder and he grinned. What was he so happy about?
I seized a knife from my belt, stopped for two seconds, and tossed the weapon dead straight. The blade slammed into the back of his thigh. I cheered on the inside.
He lurched forward, lost his footing, and tumbled to the ground.
I broke into a sprint, fast as lightning. The snap of power flittered across my fingertips. I closed the several yards between us.
He rolled onto his back and gripped a bronze pistol pointed my way. My breath froze, but I couldn’t duck in time.
He fired.
It happened too fast. The dull whack to my shoulder threw me sideways. Torture ripped my insides, excruciating and burning.
Gaige plucked my blade from his leg without a sound and climbed to his feet with the grace of a starved vlko. Behind his eyes lay death. He’d been killing for who knew how long, but it was clear he’d lost a part of himself. All that remained was someone who did other people’s bidding. A vessel.
He hobbled toward me, grasping my knife, one corner of his lip curling upward.
“How can you live with yourself? You kill your own kind.” Not showing him my pain, I batted away the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes and steadied myself on my feet, burying my scream. My fingers weren’t moving on my wounded arm. But no time for that now. None at all. I lifted my good hand, calling to my energy.
“I clean the streets.” His voice carried darkness. “I do what others can’t.” Up close, it was clear his nose had once been broken, and the healed cuts on his mouth left his lips permanently twisted. Half a dozen scars scored his face as if he’d once been tortured.
Instead, I dug deep, concentrating on my power that had been there seconds earlier, blistering beneath my skin.
Gaige rushed toward me.
I recoiled, clutching the other blade from my belt. But the asshole moved so fast, he shoved me and knocked the weapon out of my hand. Before I caught my feet, he jammed my blade into my bullet wound.
I screamed and my legs crumpled under me. My knees hit the ground. I shook, unable to move and tumbled onto my side. The world blurred and every momentary thought spiraled into darkness.
Gaige hovered over me, pointing his pistol at my head. His mocking laughter filled my ears.
I lay there, sweat dripping down my face, blended with tears. Hatred ripped me apart. How many families had he destroyed? Did he even know how to show mercy? Would he care?
I stared down the barrel of a gun, and it wasn’t fear that accompanied me, but fury. I’d made a promise to my sister to keep everyone safe, and this bastard was standing in my way. Cries fell from my lips.
“Farewell, little fae.” He grinned, revealing yellow, stained teeth.
Dying wasn’t a possibility. Not when so much rested on my shoulders. Axel. What would happen to him? My body screamed with exhaustion, to close my eyes and stop hurting.
But when Gaige snorted a chuckle, I raised up to a sitting position. I wouldn’t give him the fuck the satisfaction of winning. Instead, I extended my trembling hand. A burning surge zapped down my arm. Golden threads exploded outward from my fingers. They struck Gaige square in the chest.
He jerked in a sudden reaction, and he pulled the trigger, the bullet whizzing inches from my head, before the gun jumped from his hand.
Shit, that was close.
He yelped as his legs folded under him. Shaking uncontrollably, he went down fast.
I kept pumping energy into him, sick of asswipes terrorizing Kutia Hollow. When the electricity flatlined, I collapsed onto my back again and gasped for air.
Gaige whined, but I didn’t give a crap. He curled in on himself, every now and then convulsing.
My heavy eyelids slipped shut. Whimpers kept slipping from my lips. The sun beat down, yet I shook with cold. I’d always dreamed of defending everyone so much that it controlled me, but now I couldn’t move without crying, unsure how I’d ever stand up again. My mind screamed to get up, but I wept, mentally angry and exhausted. Physically, my body throbbed and had given up. Someone might as well be squeezing my organs because my breathing grew shallow. All I smelled was metallic blood, and I stared at the blade sticking out of my shoulder, blood dribbling down my arm.
I hiccupped a breath, and the sensation
of broken bone slicing through skin jarred me into a thrashing fit. I wailed, unsure where I started and where I ended. I didn’t know how much time passed, but when a shadow fell over me, I opened my eyes.
Axel stared down at me. His hair stuck outward, and blood painted his chin and clothes.
“You gonna lie around all day?” He offered me a smile, and amid the hurt I drowned in, he gave me hope. A lifeline.
He crouched and prodded my injury.
I let out a strangled cry.
“Give me a sec.” He vanished out of sight, and calmness settled over me knowing I wasn’t alone. I’d always pulled myself away from friends, worried that if I got too close, I’d never get over the agony of losing them if they died. But loneliness was eating me alive, and now, with Axel of all people, I loathed the isolation I’d embraced for years.
Axel came back in a run, grasping a bottle, rope, and towels. Taking only the cord, he rushed to the assassin and tied his ankles and wrists.
When he neared me again, the deep creases around his eyes showed his concern. He truly cared for me. He didn’t need to say it because it was painted on his thin lips, his shallow gasp for breath. “Okay, I’m going to have to remove the knife and clean your wound, and stop your bleeding somehow.”
“Got a b-bullet in there t-too.”
His brow creased. “Well, you never do make things easy.” He stared toward the town and at me. “I’ll pick you up.”
I couldn’t even nod from pain.
The moment his hand slid behind my head, I spasmed and hissed as if someone had pushed a finger into the puncture wound.
My vision distorted and blurred, and my sole focus homed in on the stabbing sensation engulfing my arm.
Axel set the vodka bottle up to my lips. “You need this.”
I gulped down a mouthful, the drink burning my throat. Then he picked me up fast. And that time, the searing burst of fire swallowed me. Every inch of me quivered, and the edges of my sight darkened.
The world beneath me jumped. A heavy grogginess clung to my head. I peeled open my eyes, facing the cream-colored headliner of a car. The repetitive hum of a motor and crunch of tires on asphalt played in my ears. Sunlight warmed me while I lay on the back seat. The last thing I remembered was Axel finding me after my battle with the assassin. I reached over to my shoulder—bandaged up, along with half my arm. No pain for once… Axel must have filled me with painkillers.
He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the other swinging back a bottle of water.
I pulled myself upright with a groan, my whole body shaking. Add in a spinning head, and I groaned and slumped like an invalid.
Axel glanced at me, but something dark captured his expression. “Thought you’d never wake up. Been driving for five hours.”
“Thanks for patching me up.” I stared out at the flat land we passed, the sun beating down on the barren ground.
“Your shoulder was messed up,” he said. “Found a guy to fix you up.” He patted the steering wheel. “That’s how we got this sweet ride. Paid him several cases of vodka and the gang’s stash of fae blood.”
Bile rose to my mouth as I pictured Axel drinking the crimson elixir. He’d been an addict, and I couldn’t shake it from my thoughts. Had he helped himself to another hit while I was out cold?
“I can hear you thinking,” he said. “No, I didn’t drink any more fae blood.” His words came out clipped, and his knuckles whitened on the wheel.
Discovering that Axel had been a junkie bugged me. I had witnessed faes tortured for the addiction, seen them kept as slaves, and my heart hurt for anyone violated. Once someone was hooked, nothing mattered but the next fix. Sometimes escape was easier than facing reality. But in the past, I had never accepted an excuse for their behavior. Yeah, I felt like an unsympathetic hypocrite. During the short time I’d spent with Axel, experiencing where he lived, the hardship, danger, gangs taking advantage of everyone… well, my gut coiled with discomfort because a part of me better understood the real situation.
Was I getting soft or becoming more open-minded? I didn’t know, but hearing the strain in Axel’s voice, remembering his struggle in the bar, I craved to help—not add to the problem.
“I haven’t accused you of anything,” I said, chewing on my lower lip, staring at my patched shoulder. I wriggled the fingers on that hand. Still working.
Axel nodded and focused on the road ahead. I slouched in my seat, attempting to move my injured arm, but the moment I did, a burning ache rocked me.
Three loud thuds came from the trunk. My adrenaline spiked my pulse. “What’s that?”
“Gaige.” Axel handed me the open bottle, and I gulped several mouthfuls of water, cooling my dried throat. “He’ll survive.” Axel’s voice grew darker, and he kept shifting in his seat.
In my state, I’d completely forgotten about taking Gaige with us. I had to get my head screwed on straight. But after fifteen minutes of silence, I turned to Axel.
“Talk to me, please.” I sighed as another ripple of pain pierced my shoulder, but when Axel didn’t respond, I continued, “You’re pissed, and I am too. We keep landing in deeper holes. Arguing won’t help.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” he barked. “I’ve been clean for eight months.”
I leaned forward in my seat, resisting the urge to touch his arm as I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. An invisible barrier now existed between us, and we’d taken ten steps back in our relationship. “What don’t I understand? Tell me.”
He sighed. “Months ago, I visited a gang for fae blood, but…” His swallowed loudly. “I found two young faes being drained. I wanted to die at that moment. They were in a screwed-up hell because of me.” Axel fell silent for a long while, and I figured he wouldn’t say anymore. Prodding him wouldn’t encourage him to open up, so I waited.
“I killed the gangster and freed the prisoners. I…” He hit the gas, and we raced faster down the empty road, shoving me back into my seat.
The gravity and shaking in his voice terrified me. Since meeting Axel, he’d confronted everything with bravado. But now, I spied a snippet of what lay inside—a broken man with a haunted past.
I placed a hand on his bicep. “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me.”
“No. Hear me out. That day I saved the faes, I tried to take my own life,” he said, his words fast as if he needed to spit them out. His next breath hitched.
His admittance tore at my insides, and I held onto his arm tight. I waited, heart in my mouth. He’d always presented himself with strength, but I’d been so wrong.
“The faes I released from enslavement found and saved me. Can you believe that? They didn’t blame me for drinking their blood? I was a fuckin’ monster, yet they helped me,” he boomed, and torment seeped behind his words. He slammed a palm into the steering wheel. “So yeah, things are not as cut and dry as you think.”
“Crap, Axel.” I ran a hand down his arm, but he pulled away. “The world would have been a crappier place without you. I’m sorry you had to drink the blood in town, sorry for giving you grief. I didn’t know.”
No response. And I fell back, tangled in a mess of guilt and pity. From the beginning, I had Axel pictured wrong, judging him, assuming he held secrets vital to our mission. Except he was trying to protect himself, not resurrect the demon living inside him. I suffocated on my own memories and emotions. I used to ask myself if saving Kutia Hollow was worth the hassle after my parents and Nyx had died. I’d attended too many funerals for friends at the PPD. But we all hit a wall eventually… one that made us question our existence. So, sometimes giving up seemed the easier option. I more than understood Axel’s crippling anguish. I experienced it every day.
I curled my legs underneath me and scanned the Outlands. A new surge of energy filled me, demanding I had to change my ways. Maybe if life ever returned to normal, I’d focus on humanitarian work, move to the Outlands and do what I could to help anyone in need. Not just faes.
&n
bsp; “We’re almost there,” Axel said without glancing my way.
A collection of tents came into view, and my stomach turned to stone at meeting the broker again. Part of me didn’t want to discover who my real binding partner was. Would it make me crazy with desperation to track down my human match to save myself? Maybe the broker had lied about his ability. Considering we’d risked our lives, he’d better come through with the goods or I was going mental on him… and using my knives.
Chapter 25
Killing me would have been merciful. A dull, piercing ache shuddered across my shoulder, and my arm sat cradled in a sling tied around my neck. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the herbal painkillers to kick in. Yeah, I ought to feel guilty for delivering him to a gang lord, but hey, after all the people Gaige had butchered, he deserved so much worse.
Axel pushed Gaige, sending him stumbling toward the broker’s house. On the veranda stood several goons, still in their ridiculous shiny silver sweatpants. I kept picturing them breaking out into a synchronized dance and smirked to myself.
By the time we entered the home and once again plonked on the leather couches, I was sweating up a storm. We shared the space with ten beefy guys heating the place with their heaving and grunting.
The broker strolled in, wearing only jeans. He had a machete strapped to his belt, and I wasn’t sure if that was meant to intimidate us. The circle of muscle was plenty enough.
He studied Gaige, kneeling in the middle of the room, his wrists tied behind his back, his mouth gagged.
“You guys… you’re making me tear up,” the broker said with a singing voice. If this were our first encounter, I might have bought his bullshit. “So many people have let me down, but I like you both.”
The broker approached the assassin, set a hand on the top of his head, and closed his eyes.
I leaned forward in my seat, damn curious to witness the broker’s ability. Was this how he detected someone’s binding partner? Still skeptical, I waited. If it were real, why hadn’t the PPD picked him up already, interrogated him, locked him up? Which meant they didn’t buy into the stories either.