My mouth parted shallowly. “It’s my fault,” I croaked. “I shouldn’t have left her.”
A sharp gunshot echoed in another room.
Toni’s head fell, feeling the pain of Hanif’s death acutely. We were supposed to protect humans and Seers. Not let them die.
Failed . . .
The tape cracked behind me, reacting to take the strain I was putting it under. It gave me purpose. I twisted my hands, ignoring the pinching pain as I maneuvered out of the bindings. I squirmed my hands until my wrists tore free, no longer impeded. My shoulders loosened. I could feel a change on my countenance when I lifted my head to make eye contact with Jack. Our eyes met across the room. He nodded once, his face grim as his arms began to twist minutely.
Viktor Dmitriev was standing close to Jack, but he was looking at me. His eyes narrowed at the pure determination hardening my features. He took a step toward me, as if that could help him figure out what I was thinking.
He didn’t get far. Jack had ripped free, and with a single motion he’d pulled the knife out of his stomach and risen to his feet. He was too fast, his movements too unexpected—no one could have stopped him. He was able to cut Claire’s bonds before Selena saw him and shouted for Viktor.
The Russian turned around quickly, but Jack was ready. He knocked Viktor’s gun aside and the two men grappled desperately, wrestling for control of the single knife.
Mei Li jumped forward to stop Claire, but the Guardian was already free of her imprisoning knives. She turned them on her captor, but she was stiff—she’d been tied up too long. Mei Li delivered a few expert kicks and Claire was lying on the floor, defenseless.
I noticed these individual battles through a haze, because I was moving too. I was free, bits of tape still clinging to my wrists. I jerked the knife out of my back first, tossing it aside so I could wrench the other two blades out of my body. I tried to ignore the throb and ache of my body healing itself, sealing up the gaping wounds.
I rolled to my knees and reached for Kate. I knew I didn’t have time to linger over her body—I would have eternity to mourn her loss—but I was still gentle as I scooped her up and shifted her body to the floor, away from Toni. I didn’t look at her face, though the curtain of hair was slipping away from her cold features even as I twisted away. I couldn’t face her. Not yet.
Toni was more than ready for me, already leaning away from the wall so I would have an easy swipe at his bindings. I realized he had another knife in his back—I grabbed it after cutting him free, retaining hold of two knives.
The Demon Lord was shouting for Takao, and Selena was gripping his arm in shock. I stood and faced them, wondering why Sean hadn’t already gone for the Demon Lord. I soon realized why. From the corner of my eye I could see him attacking Mei Li, trying to keep her away from Claire so the exhausted Guardian could recover.
I was just fine with his deviation from our sketchy plan. After all, I had Kate to avenge, and though I didn’t know who’d pulled the trigger and stolen her life, I knew I didn’t have to look any further than the source of all our problems to place responsibility for her death: the Demon Lord.
He was mine.
I stepped over Lee’s body, content to make him suffer by coming slowly. I could feel my face stretching, and I realized I was grinning.
The Demon Lord backed up quickly, trying to push Selena into my path, but she resisted his shoves. “Far Darrig!” he yelled hotly, eyes still on me and my steady advance. “What are you doing?”
My brother didn’t answer. He really didn’t have to.
I’d been pushed over the edge. I felt maniacal. I’d never wanted to kill like I did now. If I’d still been eligible for heaven, these intense feelings would have surely disqualified me. Was this the degree of hate one had to feel to become a Demon? These murderous urges were nothing if not demonic.
The Demon Lord was obviously done waiting for one of his bodyguards to rush to his aid. He reached into his suit and withdrew a simple black pistol. He leveled it at me, hooking his finger around the trigger and then squeezing off a round.
I dove to the side and heard the bullet pound into the wall behind me. Near Kate. I roared in barely contained rage, hands shaking as I lengthened my stride to hurry my approach.
His gun swiveled to follow my movements. Somehow I noticed a bead of glistening sweat near his hairline, and it gave me a measure of satisfaction. He was afraid. He fired another shot, and though I shifted my weight this bullet caught me in the upper arm. I thought I heard Sean yell my name, but I was too focused on my prey. The bullet’s trail burned, but wasn’t incapacitating. It was already healing.
I felt Toni somewhere beside me and knew he was going for Selena. I only had one target to worry about. One point of focus.
As the Demon Lord fired another bullet, barely missing my head, I flung one of my knives, landing it deeply in his right thigh. He cried out and staggered, grabbing at Selena for support. But she’d dived away from him in an effort to avoid the fight, or Toni, or both.
She pulled out a diminutive gun and aimed it at Toni, but I heard my partner chuckle, the sound hard. “Really?” he rasped at her. “Really? You think that’s going to—”
She let off a shot and his words stopped. I didn’t know if he’d been hit, though, because the Demon Lord was limping further away from me, dagger embedded in his leg. I continued my advance, following his backward reel toward the wall by the kitchen area. He couldn’t have many bullets left.
I lunged and the Demon Lord’s eyes widened, his face washed with pale fear. He emptied the last of his bullets into my stomach, which slowed me down despite my resolve to ignore the bites of lead. At this close range, I could feel the bullets rip right through me. My head ducked instinctively against the pain, but really it just gave me a burst of strength, resolve. This was the pain Kate had felt, and she’d managed to keep going—find me in the past and deliver her final message.
I wouldn’t stop until he was dead.
I could still see the Demon Lord jerking the knife out of his leg, gasping in agony. He gritted his teeth, and when our eyes met his fear had fled. He was angry. Beyond angry. He was livid, the pain etching his face into a lethal combination with his fury.
No more lethal than I was. My gaze narrowed.
He adopted a defensive position, barely restraining a wince as he shifted on his bleeding leg.
My own jaw was rigid, my grip on the knife convulsive.
“You’re going to lose,” the Demon Lord said, voice quaking thinly.
“I’m immortal,” I countered.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes, you are. And Kate wasn’t. You were too late.”
A growl was vibrating through me. My vision clouded. My stomach compressed with grief.
He smiled. “You see, you already lost. You lost her. She’s dead, and you weren’t here to save her. What good is immortality now?” His eyes sharpened. “I win.”
I charged him, crossing the short space in an instant. His knife came up, buried between two of my ribs. I cried out in unrestrained pain as he jostled the knife inside me, goading it up to pierce my heart. If he could embed it there, I’d be immobile. He could escape.
That couldn’t happen.
He fished the blade around more frantically when I slammed my arm into his throat, forcing us both to stumble until his back hit the wall, my bedroom to the right of us.
I could still hear the sounds of the others fighting behind me, but I was focused on my own battle. The knife was still inside me. The Demon Lord was unable to breathe, but he tried to kick me—failed because of the close quarters—then harshly twisted the knife inside me.
My body was shaking with pain and adrenaline. I dropped my arm from his jugular and chopped at his wrist, heard something snap, felt the knife stop shifting inside me. He’d lost his grip. Thrust up against the wall, he’d lost all leverage. He was gasping raggedly. He knew he’d lost. I was going to kill him.
His green
eyes were almost resigned. Somehow, it made me hate him even more. Shouldn’t he be afraid of what awaited him on the other side? After all he’d done? I wanted to see his fear. Needed to see it.
“Seers normally go to heaven,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I think they’ll be making an exception for you.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face, the image only slightly ruined by his audibly racing heart. “Perhaps. But in case they don’t, is there anything you’d like me to tell Kate?”
My chest heaved with emotion. The very thought of this insidious monster getting anywhere near heaven—near my Kate again—drove me over the edge of my tattered sanity. I couldn’t stand to let him breathe for another second.
I lifted my knife, plunging it swiftly into his heart as if he were a regular Demon. Because by my reckoning, he was exactly that.
His eyes were dulling. His lips parted. Wavered. He sagged, deadweight.
I stepped back, letting him fall to the floor, the dagger still inside him.
Twenty-Four
Patrick O’Donnell
With trembling hands I jerked the knife out from between my ribs, shuddering at the sensation. I glanced once more to the body at my feet before turning my back on the Demon Lord’s lifeless form. Some of the insanity that had possessed me fled. Not all, but most. I tried to see what I’d missed, doing a quick scan across the room to see if anyone needed my assistance.
Toni had engaged Selena in a fight while I’d taken out the Demon Lord. I say fight, but she didn’t stand a chance against Toni, even if he had been tortured for hours today. She was sprawled back on the tattered couch, and I noticed her body was mostly unmarked. Toni hadn’t been swiping aimlessly. He was interested only in the kill.
He was standing over her, his whole body stiff.
“Antonio!” she was gasping, propped up on her elbows. “Please! You don’t want to do this to me! It’s me!”
He spun one of the blades he held in his hand, crouching over her. I almost missed the anger-edged words. “I’m pretty sure this is exactly what I want to do, Selena.”
“Please!”
Toni’s stab was clean, effective. She stopped moving, stopped begging.
Selena would never plead for anything again.
“Help!” My head turned toward the frantic croak. It was Claire. She was kneeling next to a still body. It took two heavy heartbeats to realize it was my brother.
As I crossed the room in a rush, I could see the fighting was over. Jack—fingers pressed to Viktor’s neck, checking for a pulse—was just reacting to Claire’s voice, but I was already kneeling at Sean’s side.
I swallowed hard, eyeing the damage. My brother’s eyes were open, and he wasn’t dead. But a knife was in his heart, the hilt quivering with every shallow breath.
“He stepped in front of me,” Claire was mumbling, wringing her hands. I’d never seen her so agitated, so out of control. “Why would he do that? He’s Far Darrig! Why would he sacrifice himself for me?”
“He’s not dead yet, and he’s not Fear Dearg,” I growled out the Gaelic pronunciation with fury, not intending to sound so fierce. I grabbed hold of his hand, looked him in the eye. “Sean, don’t you dare even think about leaving me.”
Sean was blinking heavily. “Patrick . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry about Kate.”
My breathing hitched. Again, seeing became difficult because of a sudden blur. I finally realized what was causing the sporadic vision problems—my eyes were stinging with unshed tears. “You’re not going to die,” I said angrily, ignoring his apology. “You can’t.” I glanced back at the knife. “Are you sure it pierced your heart?”
“I—I think so. I don’t know.” His whole face scrunched, eyes closing tightly. “It hurts. Bad.”
Claire’s voice was choked, but more level than before. “There’s a chance it didn’t get his heart. But if it’s that close . . . Even pulling the knife out could kill him.”
Jack’s voice was right behind me, low. “Only one way to find out.”
I tried to pull in steady breaths. But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Whether it was from fear, anger, adrenaline, or despair, I couldn’t tell. I curled them to fists, planted them on my bent legs and looked up at the ceiling. I just needed one minute of strength. Just one more, and then I could collapse.
That’s when I heard Toni’s strangled cry and I made the mistake of glancing his way.
He’d moved to Lee’s side, oblivious to us, and he had her half cradled in his arms. He was pulling her close, sobbing into her shoulder. Kate was lying near him, inert.
His pain mirrored mine. Kate was dead.
My palms pressed against my temples and I scrunched my eyes.
“Patrick,” Claire said. “He needs help now.”
“I can’t,” I rasped. “I . . . my hands . . . I can’t.”
She understood. She looked down at my brother. “Hey,” she said, almost too loudly. His eyes flickered up to her. She cleared her throat. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you,” he returned, short on breath.
“Yes, well . . . if you survive this, I promise you can get to know me.” She glanced at me, then looked further. “Jack? Can you help hold down his shoulders?”
I felt the tears slicing down my face. My stupid hands wouldn’t stop quaking. I looked at my brother. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, Sean, I can’t . . .”
His eyes rolled to meet mine. “I know,” he panted. “I know. It’s okay.”
It wasn’t. He needed me. I couldn’t help him if I was shaking. How was I ever going to help anyone again? How could I ever hope to surmount the pain of losing Kate?
Jack was kneeling at Sean’s head, placing firm hands on Sean’s shoulders.
Claire looked back at Sean. “If this works, you’ll start healing right away.”
Sean swallowed. “Yeah. And if it doesn’t, I die. Get on with it.”
Claire’s hand hovered above his chest, hesitating. She pulled in a deep breath. Then she wrapped her fingers around the hilt and slid it out cautiously.
My brother groaned deeply, but Jack kept Sean’s upper body steady. Claire tossed the bloody knife aside the moment it was free of Sean’s body and then quickly peeled the ripped part of his shirt aside, so she could look at the wound.
Her voice was marveling. “It’s closing.” Her eyes flickered up to his. “You’re going to live.”
Sean was still pulling in ragged breaths. “Yeah. Thanks.” He winced up at her. “What was your name again?”
I saw her lips twitch in a rare smile. “Claire.”
He gave a small nod and pushed himself into a sitting position.
Jack stepped back, moving out of my line of vision.
I swiped a hand over my eyes, and when I pulled it back I saw glistening moisture.
Sean’s hand was on my arm. “Go to her,” he breathed. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of the rest.”
I stared at him, helpless in that moment to form words.
His eyes tightened. “Patrick, I’m all right. Go.”
Jack’s grunt drew all our eyes. He’d stooped to the floor to retrieve Viktor’s gun. He checked it for bullets, then cocked it. He spoke to the room at large. “Where will I find that runt, Tikki, or whatever his name is?”
“Just down the hall,” my brother answered. “But I’ll go with you—there’s another Demon there, one of Selena’s.”
Claire gripped Sean’s arm and he twisted to look at her. “The twins? They’re not here? Maddy?”
He shook his head. “They’re safe at the farmhouse.”
Claire’s whole body seemed to loosen with relief.
The two stood and Sean offered me his hand. As soon as I was pulled to my feet, the door swung open.
A woman stepped warily inside, gun in hand. I saw the flash of her pink skirt, but couldn’t even think her name. It was too impossible. She was dead.
Her eyes darted toward us, the biggest clust
er of people, and she sighed, lowering the gun to her side. “Oh my Oreos, thank goodness I don’t have to kill anyone. I was freaking out there for a minute.”
My eyes sliced to Toni, who seemed frozen, still huddled with Lee’s body. Slowly, so slowly, his head lifted—the sound of her voice the only thing that could distract him from his all-consuming grief.
Lee was now wincing at him. Tears burned visibly in her eyes. “Geez, Toni, that’s just weird. And gross. You’re getting my blood all over you.”
“Lee?” he gasped.
She pulled in a shaking breath. “Yeah, it’s me. I came back to save you all, but I guess you’ve got that part covered.” She was wearing the same outfit she’d died in—a fifties montage.
Toni blinked back down at her body in his arms. His gaze immediately returned to her. “But . . . You’re a Guardian?” Toni uttered, shocked.
She almost smiled. “Sure. I mean, if I didn’t come back, my mom would have found out about me dying on her. She would have killed me! This way, I have some time to ease her into the idea. As a bonus, I get to tease you for eternity.” Her words became more rushed. “Of course, I had to help Peter save Hanif first. So, sorry I’m a bit late for the whole rescue thing. And we’ve got a couple bodies upstairs. Peter killed them, so I really have no idea how to even hold a gun. The only reason I came charging in here first is we heard gunshots, and you know, I’m immortal now, and I figured I’d make a great shield for the Seers. And, really, while on the subject, I think we should all cut Peter just a little bit of slack, considering everything. And—Toni Alverez, would you please put down my corpse? You’re freaking me out, and I really, really want to kiss you right now!”
He suddenly seemed to realize this was real. She was back. He could have her for the rest of eternity, and no one could take her away. He lowered her mortal body to the ground and stood shakily. He stumbled toward her, like a starving man who’d just been offered a feast.
She was moving too, blindly pushing the gun back behind her. I glimpsed a pair of hands grab the weapon and then Lee was darting to catch Toni as he almost fell into her arms. He embraced her, sobbing, and he tried to kiss every inch of her face at the same time. He was mumbling something in Spanish, but a translation was hardly necessary. Lee buried her fingers in his thick dark hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. She was crying, whispering his name, trying to soothe his tears. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”
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