Firstlife Page 28

With a war cry, Biggest dives on Killian. The two hit the ground and roll toward me. I scramble back to avoid a foot to the face, watching as the mountain man loses all control, fueled by rage and adrenaline as he pounds his fists into Killian like a jackhammer set on high. Bile burns my throat.

Killian shows no signs of tapping out. Or even pain! He doesn’t try to protect his face from the next blow...or the next and the next...as he grips the man by the neck. I feel like I take the blows for him, my entire body jerking. He flings Biggest deeper into the trees, ensuring I’m no longer within the man’s reach, and my heart flutters with equal measures of relief and panic.

A kind gesture from a murderer.

I quiver as I smooth pale locks of hair from Bow’s brow. What the...? Confusion slaps me, overshadowing everything else. I’ve seen death, and this isn’t it. Her eyes are open, but she has no irises, no pupils, doesn’t even have whites. The sockets are just empty.

My heart stops fluttering and starts galloping as I brush my fingertips over one socket, then the other. They aren’t actually empty, I realize, but covered by a film as clear and smooth as glass. I bend down to peer past the film. Inside her head I see no blood, tissue or brain.

I don’t understand.

I look her over more carefully. At the moment of death, everyone’s bladder and bowels release. It’s just a fact of life. A final humiliation, I guess. Death’s ultimate F-you. But her jumpsuit isn’t wet or stained between her legs.

Is she alive?

Hope flares, even though I know the thought is impossible. Those sockets...

I turn my attention to the blade protruding from her chest. There’s no motion to indicate she’s breathing. An-n-nd, not a speck of blood discolors her jumpsuit around the blade. There’s a wet spot, but it’s covered by...diamond dust?

What is going on?

My mind is spinning but getting nowhere fast as I yank the collar, ripping the top to her navel. The blade is buried hilt-deep in her heart, but there’s still not a drop of blood. There is more liquid diamond dust.

I don’t know what to think...or what to do. I’m too fogged by pain, fatigue and uncertainty to make sense of anything.

A grunt captures my attention. A snap. Another pained howl.

I focus on the battle still raging and swallow a whimper. The boys are back in the clearing, and Biggest is doing his gold-star best to land a blow anywhere on Killian’s body. But Killian is too fast—it’s like comparing a horse-pulled wagon to a race car—ducking and punching with mesmerizing rhythm. His skill is masterful, and the part of my brain enamored with numbers sits up and takes notice, even sighs dreamily.

Punch, punch, duck. Punch, punch, kick. Punch, punch—wow! He uses every part of his body to inflict maximum damage. He is a lethal weapon.

I flinch as he executes a perfect head-butt. As his opponent reels, he dives into the guy, his teeth ripping into a tender throat...and he’s beautiful, so terribly beautiful while he does it. While Biggest howls, he breaks the guy’s beefy arm and, with a well-placed elbow jab, breaks the man’s already-broken nose.

Biggest drops, but he’s not yet out for the count. He snarls and crawls toward Killian. “Will...kill...”

My mouth goes dry—up, get up, do something!—but Killian laughs his gut-chilling laugh devoid of humor. “You won’t. If you want me to end you quick, you’ll give me your coat before I have to bloody it further. Otherwise your pain will only get worse.”

As he speaks, the ground shakes. His gaze slides to me. To ensure I’m okay or that I’m watching? Is he showing off or does he fear I’ll run?

Run...yeah, I should probably run. He’s proved to be homicidal, untrustworthy and just plain crazy.

Pure evil. Bow tried to warn me.

If I stay, we’re going to fight. Definitely verbally, maybe physically. And the bottom line? I’ll lose against him. Gotta slay a lion before you can slay a dragon. He’s far more experienced at combat. My knowledge is limited to cafeteria brawls and guards who won’t take no for an answer.

At the moment, however, none of that matters. I stay put, despite the danger. I have questions—a whooole lot of questions—and he might have answers.

As a precaution, I use what little strength I have left to wrench the blade from Bow’s chest. A blade bearing zero drops of crimson. I’m flabbergasted all over again. Her wound gaps open, but there’s no muscle or bone underneath her savaged skin but...pulsating electrodes?

Confusion bombards me, my mind spinning all over again. I don’t... How... Why?

“Just want girl.” Biggest takes a swing at Killian and curses in Russian when he misses.

“Aye, I know that.” Killian lands a punch to the guy’s jaw, causing him to whirl while spitting blood and teeth. “Problem is, I’ve never liked to share my toys.”

So I’m a toy now?

Forget confusion. Hello, rage. I’ll cut first and ask my questions later.

Biggest lumbers to his feet, preparing to launch another strike, but I’ve had enough. Playtime is over. I’m still weak, and I’m still trembling, but my goal is simple. Get in and out without either guy noticing—until it’s too late.

I race into the fray. Or rather, I try to race into the fray. The frigid cold has turned my blood into sludge, slowing my movements, and it doesn’t help that the injuries Vans inflicted on me are swollen, my skin stretched taut over every wound.

Biggest notices my approach and pivots toward me. So much for stealth. As I raise the blade, intending to go for his already injured throat—far too late to turn back now—he swipes out his arm to backhand me. I duck, but I’m not fast enough and end up taking the blow at the side of my head.

Pain explodes inside my skull as I fall. Thankfully a surge of adrenaline floods my veins when I collide with the ground. Determined, I roll toward him, reaching up to stab him. The blade sinks into his side, blood spurting. He yowls and reaches for me.

Killian kicks his arm out of the way and jabs a dagger deep into his eye socket. Biggest’s next howl makes a mockery of his first. Then he goes quiet.

I collapse on the ground, gasping for breath. It’s over. The battle is over.

One of them, at least.

A shadow falls over me. I stiffen, my gaze roving up, up to Killian’s blood-spattered face. Blood-splattered, even though I see no real injuries on him. Even stranger, he’s far more beautiful than before, because his smooth veneer has been stripped away. His charm and seduction are replaced by savage determination.

For some reason, the fear leaves me. Whatever happens, happens. I’ll deal. I’ve dealt with worse.

His hands fist at his sides. “I had everything under control, lass.”

“Yeah, well, you were taking too long.”

“Complaints? I saved your life.”

“Why did you save it? To kill me yourself—the way you killed Bow?”

“Bow overstayed her welcome.” He kicks the girl in the stomach and grins with satisfaction. “You, I’m not going to hurt. Why would I? I now own your soul. Isn’t that the save-a-life rule?”

And now the charmer is back. “You’re with Myriad. You’re anti-rules.”

“For you, I’ll make an exception.”

“How sweet. But, no. Hard pass.”

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