by Sarah Fine
I glared at him. “I’ll figure it out on my own.” Because if he went like this, Juri would eat him for breakfast, and that was one thing I couldn’t take.
“You’re not being logical,” he said, his voice quiet.
“I’m not being logical?” I yelled, waving a knife between us. “When has any of this ever involved logic? If I’d been logical, you’d still be chained in the square, having your vital organs torn out of you! If I’d been logical, we never would have met! I’ve always done what felt right. I do what I can to protect the people I love, and even though I don’t like you very much right now, I love the shit out of you. If anything happened to you, it might take me out for good.”
“You love Diane, too,” he murmured.
“Shut. Up!” My hands shook as I picked up Henry’s belt and slid the knife into one of the sheaths, then added three more.
“Lela, I know you’re scared.” Malachi’s voice was so calm that it made me want to kick him. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought you wouldn’t let me help if you knew.”
“You were right.”
He moved a little closer. “I didn’t want you to see me as weak. I saw how you looked at me in the Mazikin city. I liked how you looked at me this morning a lot better. And I needed you to let me help you. It’s why I came.”
I wrenched the belt around my waist but struggled with the buckle because my hands were so unsteady. Malachi stepped forward, and before I had a chance to push him away, he fastened it for me, tucking the end into the belt loop. Pain was etched into lines around his mouth, but he was using both hands. His eyes met mine.
He had me—I loved Diane. She was my family in this life, the only person who had really protected me like a parent should. She had made a place for me in her heart and hadn’t demanded that I do the same, but it had happened, anyway. I had a mom, and I’d always be grateful for what she’d done for me in the end, but Diane was also my mom, in a different way. A real way, a true way, and as much as it terrified me to let Malachi walk into danger one more time, it gave me the best chance of getting her, Tegan, and Ian away from Juri.
“Don’t you dare die,” I whispered, my fear for him choking me.
“I don’t plan to.” His fingers stroked down my cheek and lifted my chin. “I’ll go into this knowing that you need me to stay alive.”
I clamped my lips shut over the sob that was trying to break free. “What if it’s not enough?”
“Lela,” he said tenderly. “You walked into hell for me. I fought my way out of heaven for you. No matter what happens, there is one thing I don’t doubt at all: we will find each other again.”
THIRTY-THREE
I PULLED OVER ABOUT half a mile from the meth house and stared out the windshield. The sun was setting over the forest ahead of me, a ball of orange fire licking at the treetops. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“Henry and I practiced in the evenings when we were both home,” Malachi replied, hefting Henry’s old crossbow and leaning it on the dash. His wound had stopped bleeding and we’d bandaged it tightly, but he still didn’t have full movement of his left arm. He’d lost a lot of blood, and his olive skin was paler than it should have been. I knew he was in pain—and trying to appear stronger than he felt.
“Get them into the clearing and I’ll take them out,” he continued, arching an eyebrow and giving me an unfairly sexy smile. “I’m actually quite a good shot.”
That didn’t surprise me at all.
“Okay.” I bit my lip. “I’d better go.”
He drew me toward him and gave me a deep kiss that left me aching. “Be careful. He’ll be looking for all your weak spots.”
“He already knows what they are.” Because Malachi did.
“But he overestimates his own strength. He always has.”
“He’s pretty damn strong.”
“So are you,” he said, his lips brushing mine as he spoke. “And I have your back.”
“But your priority is to get Diane and the others out of the house.” I slid a grenade from the pack between us and pressed it into his hand. “And blow it to hell.”
His eyes flickered with concern. “You’ll be on your own.”
“Only for a little while.” I was determined to hold out that long.
His hands wrapped around either side of my neck, and we leaned our foreheads together, noses touching. Finally, he opened the door and got out, carrying the crossbow against his right shoulder, his own belt studded with throwing knives. He didn’t look back as he disappeared into the woods, heading for the little house I’d showed him on Google Maps. One look had been all he needed to orient himself and fix the location in his head. “Be safe,” I whispered at his retreating back.
I put the car in gear and pulled onto the road. If all went as planned, we’d take out Juri and his five remaining family members, and then I’d be done. I had no idea what would happen after that, but I was eager to find out. As upset as I’d been at the news that Malachi no longer had access to Raphael because he wasn’t a Guard anymore, it also meant he was already free. He could live his life. He could have the future he’d craved, and make it whatever he wanted. But I was still a Guard, so I could only hope the Judge would let me be a part of it.
I was cranked pretty tight by the time I turned into the driveway. I wasn’t sure how long it would take Malachi to approach on foot, but I knew he’d be moving as fast as he could. The chemical stench was overpowering as I got out of the car; it burned my nose, making my eyes water. A few cars were parked in front of the rambling meth house, including Ian’s cherry-red SUV.
Knowing I’d arrived with only minutes to spare, I stepped in front of my car, onto the overgrown lawn. “I’m here, Juri!” I called.
He appeared in the doorway of the house a moment later, a wicked smile on his face. He looked gorgeous in an evil kind of way, his black hair messy, his stride loose as he descended the porch steps. “Lela,” he said in an amused voice that carried a cruel undercurrent. “What have you been up to?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” I said, putting every ounce of dumb I could manage into my voice.
That muscle in his jaw began to tick. “Where is Evan? I expected him to help me this afternoon.”
“Sucks to lose track of family.” My eyes were hard on his. “Where’s Diane?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Five of my Mazikin are missing, and your friends were kind enough to tell me they left school with you in tow.” His dark eyes flared with a spark of rage. “Oh. And apparently I was there, too.”
My heart stuttered.
“He’s come back, hasn’t he?” he asked. “I’ll take as much pleasure in killing him this time as I did before. Is that what you want?”
“I want my foster mother and my friends.”
He took a step closer to me. “And I want Malachi, bleeding out in front of me as I do unspeakable things to you. Does that sound like a fair trade?”
“Sure. It sounds fair.” I drew a knife. “But life isn’t fair, asshole.”
The whisper of the bolt slicing through the air was the only warning Juri had, and yet somehow it was enough. He dropped into a crouch—but Malachi’s aim had been good. Juri roared as he yanked the bolt from his left shoulder. He lunged at my legs, catching me by surprise as he drove the bolt through my calf before ripping it out again. He grabbed my wrist and slammed my hand to the ground, causing me to drop my knife. Then he rolled with me until we were against my car, shielded from the woods and Malachi’s bolts.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Juri shouted into my face. He clamped his eyes shut but held me tight as I struggled. He shook his head back and forth, like he was trying to jar something loose.
When he opened his eyes, hatred glittered in their dark depths. “No, that’s not right,” he said with an unhinged chuckle. “I do want to hurt y
ou. I’ve always wanted to hurt you. I’ve always wanted to be the only one to hurt you.”
Then his mouth crashed down on mine. I gagged as his tongue invaded me, as he kissed me so hard I thought my jaw would break, as his bitter venom poured into my system. My head spinning, my hands scrabbling, I bucked my hips and lunged for my knife.
Juri buried his head against my neck, his teeth scraping my skin. “How do you want to die, Lela?”
“I don’t.” I wrenched back his head and spit in his face, then head-butted him hard, still reaching for my blade.
He snarled and punched me in the stomach. “Can he hit a moving target?” He rose to a crouch as I struggled to draw breath. “Because I’ve got guests waiting for me, and I’d better go take care of them.”
I caught his ankle as he surged to his feet, and he fell forward, his boot narrowly missing my face. I finally got ahold of the knife and tried to stab him, but my arms weren’t quite working the way they were supposed to. Juri growled and grunted, calling to his family, maybe to hurt Diane and Ian and Tegan. I drew the knife along his leg, barely cutting through fabric, but it was enough to get his attention.
He let out an animal howl and twisted around, leaping for me again. I rolled out of the way and staggered to my feet as two Mazikin burst onto the porch. Juri barked some order at them, but before he finished, one of them pitched forward with a bolt buried deep in his throat.
It had come from behind him. Malachi had gotten into the house.
The surviving Mazikin spun around and barreled back inside. Could Malachi handle four Mazikin and save three hostages? Anything could happen. If he blew himself up again, that was it.
But Juri was all I could handle at the moment.
His elbow cracked down on my ankle, instantly numbing my foot. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” he said in a harsh voice. “It won’t end the same way.”
I kicked at him, using my elbows to drag myself back onto the grass, into the open. From the house, there came a long terrified scream, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out if it was Tegan or Diane or someone else. I flopped onto my back, trying to push myself up to sitting, but I couldn’t get my arms beneath me. Juri was stalking after me, his dark eyes riveted on my face as I tried to focus my vision. My stomach turned, threatening to rebel completely.
Juri chuckled. “All it took was a kiss to have you on your back. Why didn’t I try that before?”
“Oh my God, you talk way too much,” I muttered. “Just come at me.” I couldn’t let him go into the house. I needed to give Malachi the best chance I could.
As Juri crouched next to me, there was a muffled explosion and a flash. The kitchen windows blew outward, showering us with glass. I rolled, and Juri collapsed backward, his hands over his face. When I raised my head, Ian was stumbling onto the porch, his face bloody and swollen, his wrists raw, carrying Tegan, whose ankle was bent unnaturally. Diane followed, coughing, her silver hair wild, holding on to the back of Ian’s shirt. Her mouth dropped open when she saw me in the grass. Before I could shout at her to run, Juri pitched forward on all fours and charged.
All my desperate love for her brought me to my feet to stagger after him. But I wasn’t going to get there in time. His four-legged lope ate up the distance, and Diane looked so startled and horrified that all she could do was flatten herself against the wall next to the door, her hands up to shield herself.
“Diane,” I screamed as Juri reached the porch steps and launched himself at her. I’d never felt so helpless.
But just before he made contact, Malachi barreled out of the house and caught Juri midair. They flew backward off the porch, landing with a hard thunk in the grass a few feet from me. Malachi had a few cuts on his arms and face, but what worried me most was his left shoulder, which had bled through the bandages. I was trying to summon the coordination to help him with Juri when he shouted, “Get them away from the house! Eight!”
Eight seconds until detonation. A Mazikin, its face black and its clothes on fire, stumbled through the doorway and onto the porch. A second one, more agile, used its pal as a springboard to leap past us and charge after Ian, Tegan, and Diane. I looked down at Malachi, struggling with Juri, both of them sporting bloody shoulders and throwing brutal, sharp punches. And then I looked at my defenseless friends.
I couldn’t abandon them. Clutching my knife as tightly as I could, I limped after the Mazikin. “Hey! Did you know I killed your mom? Your Queen is dead because of me.”
The Mazikin stopped short and whirled around, its nose twitching. Then it jumped at me, and I got my knife up in time to deal it a glancing blow that knocked me off balance. Juri’s venom was doing its thing, sending waves of buzzing numbness coursing through me in slow, lazy surges. But I wasn’t out of commission yet. As the Mazikin, a middle-aged guy with tattoos all over his neck and arms, descended on me, I jammed my foot into his knee. He fell on top of me as the house gave off a deep, percussive thump and then exploded, fire shooting into the sky.
“I’m not going back,” the man huffed. He snapped at me, trying to close his teeth over my neck as I clumsily punched and stabbed at him. Finally, he grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the ground. “Never going back!” he roared, his jaws wide as he struck.
But he never reached me. A tree branch cracked down over his back, and Diane appeared over his shoulder, her eyes blazing. “Get the hell off her!” she shouted, raising the branch and smacking it down again. The Mazikin snarled and caught the branch with Diane’s next blow, but then Ian tackled him, slamming the guy to the ground. After a quick glance told me that Malachi and Juri were still going at it in the middle of the clearing, their silhouettes dark in the light of the fire, I once again rolled to my knees, forcing myself to concentrate on keeping my fingers wrapped around the knife. Ian was punching at the guy, pouring all his hatred into every blow, his bloody face vacant but tense.
“Ian, stop,” I said, crawling forward.
“No.”
“Yes. Just for a minute. Please.”
He looked up at me, awareness returning to his eyes. “Why?”
I dragged myself forward and fell on top of the tattooed Mazikin, then abruptly slashed my knife across his throat. “Have a good trip.” I slowly got to my feet.
Ian stared at me. “You killed him.”
I glanced at Diane, who I had expected to react with horror, but she merely crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the Mazikin’s body. I returned my attention to Ian. “I’ll explain later. Please get Tegan and Diane into the woods.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I have to help Malachi.”
Ian’s eyebrows shot up as he looked toward the two struggling figures on the lawn. “Which one?” he said, his voice made of pure WTF.
“Just go,” I said, already moving toward them. The last remaining Mazikin besides Juri had somehow gotten far enough away to survive the explosion and was running toward the two men fighting on the lawn. I broke into a hitching jog, even though my feet each felt like they weighed one hundred pounds.
The Mazikin tackled Malachi, dragging him away from Juri but holding him down, leaving my Lieutenant at the mercy of the creature wearing his skin. Wiping at his face and rolling his wounded shoulder, Juri stalked toward Malachi, who was fighting to get his arms free. His shirt had ridden up, revealing beautiful, smooth skin. Vulnerable. Easy to destroy.
Adrenaline exploded through me, temporarily pushing back the numbness. I slammed into Juri, stabbing down as hard as I could, slicing along his ribs but not penetrating the bone. He snarled and arched back. Our legs got twisted on the way down, and he landed on me with a crunch. I didn’t have time to get the knife up again before he ripped it from my hand. “You stupid little bitch,” he roared, sounding more animal than human. “Go tell your Judge she will never be rid of me!”
He slammed the blade thro
ugh my stomach. The pain was like an explosion inside me, setting fire to my mind.
Through the blaze, I heard Malachi call my name. Juri yanked the knife from my body and lunged forward to meet him in the middle. Panting, trying to stay focused despite the agony, I squinted and saw the Mazikin that had grabbed Malachi lying in a bloody heap on the grass. Juri and Malachi were locked in brutal combat again, but Malachi was barely keeping the razor-sharp blade away, fighting in pure defense as Juri attacked with a vicious smile.
I put my hand on my stomach, my fingers sliding over my bloody skin. My legs were like blocks of cement, and I shivered violently as I pulled another knife from its sheath. Malachi’s voice was in my head, from the first training session we’d ever had. The first time he’d ever taught me to throw a knife.
Only as a last resort.
I had nothing else. I couldn’t move my legs.
Not everyone throws well enough to do anything but give the enemy a weapon.
It wasn’t my enemy I wanted to give it to. I cocked my arm as the strangest sensation crept up my chest and into my throat. Burning and wet. I coughed, and blood splattered onto my hand. “Shit,” I whispered, managing to prop myself up on an elbow. I spat a mouthful of blood into the grass and concentrated on my target. With a silent prayer, I threw that knife with all my remaining strength as Juri delivered a brutal elbow strike that doubled Malachi over. He brought his knee up sharply, catching Malachi in the chest. Juri kicked him away just as my knife sliced along his upper arm and landed in the grass between him and Malachi. Juri looked down at his bicep and back at me, and then began to laugh. A mocking animal laugh. A laugh that said he knew he had won.
Darkness licked at the edges of my vision. Even the fire from the house wasn’t enough to light the night. But it was enough to allow me to see Malachi scoop up my knife and descend on his enemy, the fire reflecting in his black-brown eyes, rage consuming his features, looking for all the world like a lion pouncing on its prey.
I never saw him land.