by Vic Tyler
I toss my phone to him, and he just barely catches it.
“What’s the situation at headquarters?” I ask, lifting Adriana in my arms.
His face pinches as he uprights himself and leads the way, walking faster than he should be in his condition. “Bad.”
My heart plunges through the pit of my stomach. “How bad?”
He doesn’t respond, and I struggle to push down the dread threatening to overtake me.
“Kitty’s on her way here right now,” Jura finally says as we make it to the kitchen. “Ubo and Isla are dead, and Richter was in bad condition. As for the others… It didn’t look good.”
Shit. Well, there goes the plan with Isla.
“They bombed the place. Can you believe it?” He wheezes out a chuckle. “Really took advantage of us. Fucking Kaden.”
When we enter the pantry, he shoves aside some boxes and fiddles with something on the wall. The longer the silence goes on, the more my nerves fray and my heart races.
I need to take care of the situation out front to make sure they can both escape.
My hands squeeze around the warm body in my arms.
Adriana’s body is scratched and bruised everywhere that I can see, and her feet are torn and bloody. Her wrists are crimson and sticky from the deep gashes encircling them.
I resist touching her wounds because there’s nothing I can do for her right now.
Especially all the wounds that I can’t see.
The dirty cream–colored dress rides up her thighs, and a momentary surge of blinding anger overwhelms me when I remember her bare flesh in my hands.
I’m going to kill whoever did that to her.
How dare they?
At the very least, it didn’t seem like they did any lasting damage.
They didn’t break her. She managed to run away.
My throat tightens as I tenderly smooth her dress down.
Even unconscious, Adriana looks pained. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, and her lips are downturned. Dried tears stain her cheeks and her lash lines.
God, all I wanted was to see her smile.
All I wanted was for her to be happy.
Was that too much to ask for?
My fingers brush over the thin white gold chains of her necklace and earrings, which fall limp against her olive–toned skin. The pink diamonds are dull under all the blood and dirt.
I guess she did like them.
I touch the white wing, stained red now.
My angel.
My one–winged angel.
She deserved freedom, but she was stained and drenched with our sins. She’ll forever carry the weight of our blood with her. She’ll never be the same.
I graze her soft, dirt–ridden skin, my fingertips etching every feature of her face into my memory.
Gently pulling her up, I allow myself to hold her tight for a few more moments — pressing my cheek to hers, inhaling her sweet, nostalgic scent, and remembering the feel of her in my arms.
Fuck.
My heart feels raw and shredded in my chest, and I swallow back a hard knot in my throat, threatening to explode into a devastated cry.
She wasn’t supposed to see all of this. She shouldn’t have.
But I guess it’s better that she did.
It’s better this way.
I’m sorry, Adriana. I’m so fucking sorry.
When Jura turns back to me, a portion of the wall is slid open, exposing a dark, short path with a door in sight.
I gingerly hand her over as I trace the lines and slopes of her face with my eyes for the last time.
I hope to never see her again.
And yet, the thought kills me.
“If I die,” Jura starts. His eyes are wide open, and for the first time, he lets a sliver of his fear show. “You know where to bury me.”
My teeth grind together, and I choke back the hopelessness that threatens to overtake me. “Shut up, you fucker. Get out and survive.”
He laughs weakly. “Even if we do, we’ll be on the run for a while.” He nods. “If you make it out, you remember the protocol.”
We have our signals to get in contact. It’d be best if we didn’t travel altogether, but it’s always better to have allies somewhere than nowhere.
He grunts as he lifts Adriana in his arms. “Be careful.”
I watch them for a few seconds before sliding the wall back in place. There’s a trace of Jura’s blood on the walls and some pooling on the floor, but other than that, you’d never be able to tell there’s an exit here.
Good.
There’s no one outside the Windrose.
Not yet.
But in a matter of seconds, a car swerves out from the main street, unstable like the driver’s drunk and angry.
It crashes into the fence, dismantling it in one hit, and when the door creaks open, a bloody and battered Kaden falls out, cursing and groaning.
“That cocksucker,” he mutters as he staggers to his feet.
Watching him coolly, I approach the injured man. “Where’s East?”
As soon as he spots me, he glares before baring his teeth in a bloody grin. “Like I’m fucking telling you.”
Raising my gun, I shoot twice. The stuttered bangs roar in the open space, swallowed by the expanse air.
Except for his scream as his legs buckle from under him, it’s like life around us has frozen in fear. Not a single chirp, bark, or caw anywhere.
I guess I’m going with Plan Kaden then.
Luciano would’ve sufficed too, but I never liked this guy anyway.
I feel my pulse throbbing in my veins rather than hear it. Fuck, I can barely even hear Kaden grunting as he crawls on the dirt ground to get to the gun lying six feet ahead of him.
Shame he dropped it so far away.
My ears are ringing oppressively from the aural assault of all the shots that have been fired throughout the day, especially inside the Windrose. It’s the only downside of that place being sealed and soundproofed, turning into a goddamn echo chamber when there’s a fight inside.
Ah, oh well. Hopefully, the tinnitus isn’t permanent.
As soon as he’s within aim, I disable Kaden’s arms with another two generous bullets.
He should be thanking me right now. Each of these bullets is keeping him alive. He gets to bask in and truly savor these last few minutes of his life.
It’s more than any of these other corpses littering the city got before their last breath was snatched in this bloodthirsty rush for victory.
I stand over his live, warm, blood–pumping body, planting each foot on either side of his immobilized torso.
His handsome features are distorted, not bothering to hide his anger and disdain now that Death inescapably looms over him.
He masks his fear nearly perfectly, but I can smell it. It fills my lungs, using the iron in the air as a vehicle.
And if looks could kill… well, then his victim count would be infinitely higher.
“How’s it feel to be the last man standing?” he sneers. Hah. He lets his head fall back on the ground as he smirks. “Congratulations, but you haven’t won Battle Royale until you finish me.”
“You’re not getting that lucky.” My voice sounds calm. I feel calm.
Kaden heaves his pitchy, pained laughter out of his bloody mouth. “I knew you were as fucked up as the rest of us. Always playing the dutiful deviant, but look at you.” His glassy eyes gleam with a surprisingly fierce malice. “You’re so thirsty for revenge that you’re still here instead of running away. Don’t worry. East will grant your suicide wish soon enough.”
Swinging my arm behind me, I keep my eyes on Kaden as I pull the trigger on his crotch.
“FUUUCK!”
Ubo would’ve had more fun with this. Would’ve been more creative with it too.
Kaden’s screams are satisfying to hear. Although they tire me out the longer I listen to them.
It’s been a long fucking day, and there’s only
so much screeching I can take.
But I’m honestly impressed by the litany of names he’s calling me. Creative.
His spitty cursing starts garbling into laughter.
Did he snap because of the pain or is it just a byproduct of his insanity? I doubt any other man would react this way to his dick and balls being shot off.
Hell, mine are shriveling, feeling betrayed that I did it at all. I’ve never shot a man in his family jewels, so this is a first for me too.
“Good thing I got to fuck Adriana’s tight little cunt —”
My foot slams into his face, and he sputters and coughs, hacking a couple of teeth out.
The hard blows of my boot against his flesh are the only sounds filling the empty air, and I barely see the crimson of his blood through my own reddened vision.
So it was him.
I figured it was Kaden who’d try to desecrate Adriana.
He gets off on being a rapey little fucker.
If it wasn’t for East, I would’ve shredded this asshole apart much earlier.
Even though I know he’s lying, my blood boils knowing he even touched her.
He’s lucky that I’m being merciful. If he went any further, I’d know. It would’ve radiated off her when she came into the Windrose earlier. And I would prolong his demise and make it so much more painful.
Kneeling, I shove the barrel of my gun into his mouth and snarl lowly, “You don’t get to say her name.”
I’ll make sure he doesn’t.
That he can’t.
When I pull the trigger, his screams gurgle as they drown in blood. His pupils dilate with pure fear and hatred, and the silver metal is soaked scarlet.
I can’t tell if the slug is lodged in the back of his throat or if it went through, but either way, he’ll bleed out soon.
As I stand and watch him writhe in pain, I replace the magazine, even though there are a couple more bullets left.
Ending it that quickly would be a little too magnanimous, and I want to keep the momentum while I blow his face off.
It’d ruin the mood if I had to stop once I started shooting just to reload.
When his jerking slows to rapid twitches, I aim until I see his murderous eyes peering above the barrel.
And wait.
The whole torturous, drawn–out murder thing doesn’t really get me off, except for the fact that it’s Kaden.
What can I say? I’m a sentimental bastard.
My finger tenses on the trigger.
Boom.
He’ll probably feel the first few bullets I drive into his face, which decimates his nose and extends his mouth, but only for a few seconds before he dies.
It’s always hard to tell how much a face has blown out while I’m shooting since my vision goes scarlet.
By the time my gun empties, I’m pretty sure I’m deaf.
All the red flooding my sight narrows to that singular crimson flesh crater.
Good thing he doesn’t have any family.
It’s one thing I didn’t have to worry about while killing him, unlike the other men I’ve finished.
It seemed cruel to let their beloved ones think they might still be alive or that they faked their deaths, so I took all their teeth out. That way they could be identified by their dental records, at the very least.
Maybe the teeth Kaden spit out earlier might help, but that’s all that’s left of that fucker’s smile.
Besides, I doubt anyone will come searching for his murderer.
Seems fitting that no one loved a monster like Kaden.
And now, I’ve become a monster just like him.
When I try to swallow, I realize my throat is parched, and the pain reminds me that I’m alive.
Soaked but breathing in a sea of bodies.
The lone survivor yet again.
Living is such a huge fucking burden.
My eyes unfocus, blurring the details of the heap of meat I blankly stare through.
It’s not going to haunt me as much as the other familiar faces floating in my mind.
Phan. Giorgio. Shiva.
North. Turan.
West.
And all the other faces I haven’t seen yet…
It’s a strange feeling, having to come to terms with the comrades I knew would die one day. Even by my own hand.
But the fact they’re all gone, wiped out completely in the span of a few hours by our own…
I can’t wrap my head around it. Not yet.
The one saving grace is that Adriana is alive. Even if she despises me now.
Adriana.
I can only hope that she lives from now on. Really lives.
My chest wrenches painfully, and I swallow back the frustration and havoc threatening to undo me.
Knowing she’ll forever remember this carnage crushes my heart into a million shattered fragments.
The ultimate culmination of everything we fought to protect her from.
Such an insurmountable failure.
But she’s strong. She’ll learn to live with it. She’ll move on.
She has to.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
My face whips up, and adrenaline jets through my veins when I see the swarm of deviants all around me.
Fuck.
When the fuck did they all get here?
My ears are still ringing, and I can just barely hear the obnoxious claps as East saunters over to me.
I fight back the relief that collapses my chest, and air’s never felt so good in my lungs as it does right now.
He’s alone.
Adriana’s nowhere in sight. There’s no way he wouldn’t flaunt her in front of me if he found her.
Even then, his face is split with a smirk, and he stops a couple feet away.
Peering down, he studies what’s left of Kaden’s face. “So it was you.” His eyes dart up knowingly as his smile widens. “Killing all those pedophiles.”
I toss my empty magazine and reload my gun, ignoring all the weapons that immediately lift and point at me.
Maybe I’ll die right now. But if I do, I won’t go down alone.
Locking eyes with East, I point at the corpse I’m standing over.
“Take me as one of your Twelve, East.”
He chuckles. “Why should I?”
I arch an eyebrow, looking pointedly at him.
“That’s why I’m still here. I’m more useful to you alive than dead.” I match his smile with my own. “Even if you kill me, torture me, raze the entire goddamn city, you’ll never find everything I took from you.”
Account numbers, missile codes, classified documents, key codes, passwords.
Those are just some of the things I swiped before crashing his entire fucking system.
Call it collateral. I would’ve never stepped in hostile territory without making sure I’d be able to leave in one warm, live, functional piece.
Jura’s firewalls, blocks, and encryptions are giving East and his deviants an unimaginably difficult time setting it up and sorting it all through again. Some of it’s been irrevocably lost, and the only place it exists is with me.
It’ll be a long time before he has the same access to his resources like he did before.
But he’ll never get it all back.
He won’t have time to.
I’ll make sure of it.
East’s expression darkens menacingly. “I’m going to enjoy killing you slowly and painfully.”
I look at the man who took everything from me.
Everything.
And for once, I feel nothing.
Because this time, I don’t need my anger, my bitterness, and my bloodthirst to hold me to my resolve.
Vengeance is a given.
But as long as the one person who makes all this worth it is alive, I’ll keep fighting to make sure she doesn’t lose anything else.
I’ll protect her, no matter the cost.
I promise.
epilogue
Six months later
“Emma, you got another table in your section,” Grace calls out. Her voice hushes into an excited whisper. “He’s really hot. Got that dark, dangerous, and mysterious feel.” She shudders appreciatively. “And he came alone.” I fight back a sigh as she nudges me suggestively. She’s so boy–crazy. “If you don’t want his number, get it for me.”
I peek out from behind the wall where I just finished inputting an order for one of my other tables. Gotta remember they need a highchair and a kid’s menu.
Ah.
Grabbing the crayons and the blank coloring sheet with our restaurant’s cowboy–hat–toting shrimp mascot, I flash my coworker a smile.
“He’s gay. Total bottom.” I lower my voice. “Heard he got surgery on his butthole because he tried to stick a Febreze can up there.”
Lifting my eyebrows as high as they go, I shrug. Grace’s jaw drops as her gaze slides back to the man in question.
I leave her gaping as I drop off the kid’s menu and highchair before walking to the lone man in the corner.
The menu slaps against the table when I toss it in front of him. “You should come here with some of the guys next time. Maybe Dmitri or Aleksandr.”
He glances at me with a quizzical look. “Why?”
I shrug. “No reason.”
His gaze returns to the menu. “Go home in half an hour and pack what you can. We’re leaving tonight.”
“What?” I ask, startled. “Again? Why?”
“North’s dead.”
Grimacing, I tap my pen against the order pad. “That makes this one — what? The third?”
“Fourth,” he corrects. “But the new one’s here to stay.”
My eyebrows furrow together. “How do you know that?”
His lips press together into a tight line. “He’s one of East’s. They’ve officially taken over.”
My heart sinks.
The northern faction has been in turmoil ever since the last–standing Cardinal Northridge died during the Cardinal meeting. A civil war, if you could call it that.
Meanwhile, the eastern faction’s taken over the operations of the western, and South’s left most of the control of his territory in the States to East as well, choosing to focus on his business in Mexico and Latin America.
