by Bec McMaster
A pair of shadows divulged themselves on the other side of the gaping chasm of the bridge. A pale woman materialized in the smoke, her long silvery hair knotted into a chignon as she stalked toward them in an armored corset and a pair of leather trousers.
Obsidian froze.
Behind her, the Duke of Malloryn hauled himself up the last stair.
But it was Dido he focused on.
The gun in her hand, pointed directly at Gemma's back.
A moment of distraction. He saw the glint of silver and felt it slam into his side, right between his ribs. A razor-sharp stab of pain he ignored in the wake of the threat to Gemma.
"Gemma!" he bellowed, trying to warn her.
A pistol retorted, but he couldn't see what had happened to her....
Ghost grabbed him by the chin, slamming him back against the railing as he buried the knife deep and twisted it. "I will always be the better of the two of us. And she will always be your distraction. Your weakness."
Obsidian screamed in pain as the blade ground against his ribs.
Not a weakness, no.
But a reason to win, no matter what the cost.
If she was dead....
He could feel the darkness within him swimming to the surface, bringing with it the primal fury of the other half of his soul.
And for the first time in years, Obsidian gave himself over to it, his teeth elongating.
Chapter 32
"This way!" Charlie screamed, hauling Kincaid along a narrow, poorly lit hallway toward the munitions factory.
He’d caught a glimpse of the monster chasing them as it smashed through the door into the medical bay. X was almost as large as Charlie’s entire Cyclops suit, a leather muzzle strapped over his face, and his eyes hazed with broken blood vessels. The second he saw them, those piggish eyes lit up, and then blood was spraying across Charlie’s face as X grabbed the doctor and ripped his head clean off.
Charlie had faced vampires and slasher gangs, dhampir and enraged blue blood lords in the past few years. Nothing had come closer to making him want to piss himself than the brute bellowing on their heels.
Red gleamed ahead of them.
Fire.
Almost to the factory.
Charlie shot a glance over his shoulder and saw X’s broad shoulders backlit by the faint light. He’d paused to rip his mask off and sink his teeth into the doctor’s throat, which was probably the only reason they were still alive, but the second they’d bolted he’d given chase.
Kincaid’s arm was wrenched from his grasp, and Charlie dropped the satchel he’d somehow still been carrying.
Skidding to a halt, he heard Kincaid scream.
X slammed him against the wall, a single punch driving a dent into the side of Kincaid’s Achilles II armor. Solid sheet metal buckled, and Kincaid grunted.
Charlie lunged forward, his steel fingers enclosing around X’s throat. He smashed him into the other wall, but X simply bellowed and grabbed hold of his own suit.
Oh, shit.
The dhampir’s forehead slammed into his, and Charlie lost his grip. A series of blows sent him reeling, as hot breath caressed his face.
"Kincaid!" he screamed.
Teeth raked at the metal collar around his throat, and Charlie scrambled to hold X off. Barely. Then he was staggering back, his feet going out from under him as Kincaid came out of nowhere to tackle X.
Charlie hit the floor with a steely rasp, sliding several feet.
He felt like a frigging turtle on its back, and tried to kick his feet. His legs were strapped inside the Cyclops, and the pistons hissed as the gas-powered joints reacted to his movement. Somehow he rolled onto his side, steel knuckles pushing into the floor as he found his knees.
If he got out of this, then he was going to have to work on the suit’s dexterity.
But that was a problem for another time.
Kincaid grappled with the beast, every punch sending him staggering back a step. Fire formed a frame around X, as Kincaid was shoved back against the metal railing of the munitions factory. They had to be several levels above the factory floor.
X peeled the top layer of his chest carapace open and tossed it aside.
"Kincaid!" Charlie yelled, lining them both up. "Get clear!"
Kincaid’s eyes locked on him, as Charlie lifted the arm cannon. He grabbed X by the arms and forced the bastard to the side. "Shoot him!"
Charlie pulled the trigger.
The small missile in his arm cannon zoomed toward the enormous monster.
Kincaid managed to get clear at the last second, and X spun, snarling as he tried to snatch at the missile. It exploded as it hit his chest, flinging him over the rail.
And then he was gone.
Charlie’s arm shook as he lowered his arm.
Every inch of him started to tremble.
Holy shit.
Had they just survived?
It had all happened so quickly he couldn’t quite make heads or tails of it.
Kincaid knelt on one knee, panting. "Mother of Jaysus." Raking a shaky hand through his sweaty hair, he found the blood there and lowered his fingers to rub them together. "That was close."
Charlie managed to push to his feet. He peered over the rail into the inferno. X had vanished. "Do you think he’s dead?"
"Surely he couldn’t have survived that."
Nothing but silence drifted up through the billowing smoke.
They both looked at each other.
"Time to get out of here?" Charlie suggested. "Just in case?"
"Definitely."
"Let me just fetch the doctor’s satchel."
The shot took Gemma high in the shoulder as she tried to drop, alerted by Obsidian's scream.
Gemma's breath was torn from her lungs, pain spasming down her arm. The same bloody arm she'd dislocated. She ground her teeth together and forced her knife into her weaker hand, blocking the pain.
Behind her, separated by a gaping chasm of over ten feet, Malloryn crashed into the dhampir woman who'd shot her. The pair of them grappled, the pistol flying from the woman's hand.
Malloryn could handle it.
Gemma's gaze locked on Ghost. He slammed Obsidian against the railing, and the pair of them exchanged ringing blows. Obsidian ducked beneath a wildly swung haymaker and threw a cracking punch that would have taken the head off anyone else's shoulders. Ghost's chin snapped up.
They broke apart, but Ghost lashed out as he danced backward, and Obsidian was still slightly off-balance from that last blow.
The split second slowed down as Gemma watched it all unfold.
It was like Russia all over again.
Dmitri raising the gun.
Pulling the trigger.
The abrupt slam of the bullet, right in the center of her chest.
Inevitable.
A single kick to the chest and Obsidian staggered against the railing, his center of balance too high, his hands flailing as he reached for something. Anything—
He went over, groping for the rails as he fell. The barest edge of his fingertips caught the bottom rung. Gemma scrambled to her knees.
"Dmitri!" she screamed.
Ghost shot her a dark look, then crunched his heel down upon Obsidian's fingers.
And he was gone.
Vanishing into the inferno below, his coat fluttering as he plummeted, like Lucifer falling directly into hell.
Noooo!
Gemma sprinted toward Ghost, sliding to her knees as Ghost lunged for her. The knife in her hand slashed through the back of his knee, effectively hamstringing him as he lunged past. The Falcon within her awoke, the world shutting down to just her and him.
Ghost needed to die.
No hesitation.
Not this time.
She wanted to cut his throat and feel his cold blood splash against her face.
The world vanished into darkness as the hunger roared through her.
Gemma threw herself forward and rolled over he
r shoulder onto her feet. None too soon. She caught a flash of movement behind her, and drove her boot back as she gained her balance. Her heel smashed into a knee, and Ghost screamed as bone crunched.
"You bitch!"
A blow smashed into her cheek as she spun, sending her staggering against the rail. She lashed behind her with the knife, but another sharp chop to the side of the neck made her head spin, and her right arm was numb from the bullet wedged high.
The world blurred.
Fire. Smoke. Pain.
But pain was an old friend.
A means to sharpen the mind against the brief dulling of her senses.
"Pull the trigger, cadet."
Rage soared through her chest like a phoenix rising from its ashes. This wasn't merely fighting to kill a man who'd hurt Obsidian. No, this was a direct strike at Balfour. Never again would she be used to hurt her friends. Her queen.
Gemma drew on everything she had within her to leap up onto the railing as Ghost lunged toward her.
Launching herself backward into a flip, she plunged her knife down into the thick muscle of his trapezius, driving it as close to the carotid as possible. Ghost fell against the rail with a scream.
She landed on the mesh behind him, head swimming.
Her right hand felt numb, blood slicking her fingers. The bullet wound throbbed. How much blood had she lost?
Too much.
Ghost made an inhuman sound, hauling her knife out of his flesh. Blood welled between his fingers, but not enough to put him down. Gemma hauled the thin wire she carried up her sleeve into both hands and thrust it over his head, yanking it tight as she hauled him back against her. Twisting both ends of the wire, she turned and went down on one knee, bending his larger body over hers as she tried to strangle him.
Go down, damn you.
Ghost choked, kicking furiously.
"Gemma!" Malloryn screamed, but she didn't dare look for him.
Cursing her useless right hand, she twisted into the action, knotting both ends of the wire around her aching hands and setting her teeth against the scream of pain through her shoulder.
Die.
Fingers groped for the bullet wound in her shoulder, digging into it.
The world swam as she screamed, and her hold loosened for one crucial second.
Ghost suddenly kicked against the rail, pushing off. He rolled over her back, taking her arms—and the garrote—with him.
"Gemma, down!"
Malloryn again.
She tried. Honestly, she did.
But the garrote was wrapped too tightly around her hands.
Ghost hauled her toward him, his forehead slamming into hers. She lost a moment. Perhaps too many. Gemma swayed, the world blurring around her in a roar of dark shadows and flames.
And then Ghost hauled her back against his chest and put his knife to her throat as he turned to face Malloryn.
Chapter 33
"Put the pistol down, or I'll cut her throat," Ghost said.
Gemma grabbed his wrist, trying to halt the progress of the knife set against her throat, but it was like gripping steel cables. No give.
She shot Malloryn a nervous look.
There was nothing left of the icy gray of the duke's irises as he stood over the dhampir woman he'd felled with his electrode-stimulating device. His dartgun was locked on Ghost, and she knew he was carrying darts laced with Black Vein.
But he froze as he saw her predicament.
"You too," Ghost said, in a dangerously soft voice, wrenching her around just enough to see Obsidian haul himself onto the platform, the silver glint of a grappling hook locked in the mesh.
He'd survived.
Relief burst through her as she realized what must have happened. Obsidian must have flung one of his hooks as he fell, and slowly hauled himself up. She'd been so focused on the fight, she hadn't noticed. She felt like her heart was going to burst right out of her chest.
"Can you not simply die?" Ghost hissed at Obsidian.
"I'm the Wraith. I can't die."
"No? But you can watch her go first."
Gemma squeaked and arched backward as the knife cut her skin. She didn't dare swallow.
"It appears we're at an impasse," Malloryn said coolly. "If you hurt Gemma, then you're a dead man. You cannot escape. There are two of us."
Gemma sucked in a sharp breath, tilting her chin high to try and escape the knife. The shock collar offered no protection.
Her heart pounded in her ears, and she glanced up at Ghost, trying to calculate her trajectory. If she kicked up, she could— No. He had the blasted knife right over her carotid artery.
It might not kill you.
Head or heart, after all. Gemma's heartbeat slowed to a crawl as she considered her options.
"Who said I needed to escape?" Ghost demanded. "As long as it hurts you, Malloryn, then my mission is done. I can't fail. I won't." Grabbing her jaw in his fingers, he turned her toward the duke. "It’s like déjà vu, isn't it?"
The knife tracked its way lower, and Gemma's eyes rolled as she tried to see where it was going. Its tip pierced the outer layer of her body armor, drawing a bead of blood as he set it to her sternum.
Suddenly she couldn't breathe.
Armored corset or not, if he drove it through her heart, then she'd never survive.
Her frantic gaze met Obsidian's. If this was going to be the end, then the last thing she wanted to see was his face.
"It's like watching Balfour put his pistol to Catherine's temple and pull the trigger, all over again." Ghost mused. "She looks so like Catherine, doesn't she? That's why she was chosen, Malloryn. Sent to kill you, so you'd be the one to put a bullet in her heart. But ah, alas, it was not to be. The little turncoat somehow wrangled her way out of certain death. Or was that you, granting her mercy? She means a lot to you, doesn't she? I suggest you put the gun down. Because while you could kill me, you'll never save her."
The goddamned bastard! Her life was worth more than a means to slight Malloryn.
Gemma's heart fluttered, like a flock of birds taking flight. "Don't," she mouthed at the duke.
The second he dropped his weapon he was vulnerable.
Malloryn remained frozen, his dartgun trained upon them.
"I won't ask again," Ghost spat, and dug the knife in hard enough to cut.
Gemma cried out as blood welled and ran down beneath her corset. It was meant to stop a blow and deflect the edge of a knife. Not to prevent her from being stabbed.
"All right," the duke said softly, bending to place his dartgun on the wire mesh of the bridge.
"Kick it over the edge."
His gaze met hers, as if Malloryn was trying to tell her something.
Then Malloryn kicked his pistol away.
At his feet, Dido slowly crawled to her hands and knees, shooting the duke a merciless look.
"Gemma," Obsidian called in a low voice. "Remember how I took you down in the tower?"
What the hell did he—? She suddenly froze. The shock collar around her throat.
"Do it," she said, reaching up and grabbing Ghost's arm.
Obsidian must have pressed the control device, for current suddenly arced through her.
Gemma screamed, her body jerking and kicking back as Ghost was flung away from her. She hit the mesh, panting hard and the stink of something burning filling her nostrils. Every inch of her body felt like it had been hit with a metal pipe, and her heart gave an erratic squeeze.
She could hear fists striking flesh and someone grunting in the distance, but Obsidian leapt past her.
He kicked Ghost in the ribs as the dhampir crawled to his knees, flinging him onto his back.
"This is for Gemma," he said coldly, and drove his knife directly into Ghost's heart.
Blood splashed his face when Obsidian came for her.
"Are you all right?" he demanded, helping her to her feet.
Gemma fell into his arms, wincing as her burned hands came into contact wi
th his chest. They'd heal. Indeed, she could already feel them tingling as the craving virus sought to regenerate her tortured flesh. Her throat was practically on fire. "I'm alive. That's all… that counts. I presume Ghost is no longer with us?"
Obsidian shuddered, wrapping his arms carefully around her and gently pressing her face to his chest. "No. I cut his heart out of his chest."
"We did it."
And they'd both survived.
"I thought I'd lost you," she blurted.
"I thought I'd left you here to die." Obsidian's voice shook as he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her.
She hadn't dared think of the alternative—of what it might be like to truly lose him for good. There hadn't been time.
But it burst through her now, stealing her breath, making her feel ill at the thought of how close they'd come to losing each other forever.
"We need to get out of here," Obsidian said, drawing back from the kiss.
The other half of the mesh walkway was empty.
Gemma froze, her eyes stinging from the overwhelming smoke. She could barely see through it. "Where's Malloryn?"
Obsidian spun around, several large strides taking him to the edge of the broken walkway. "He was just here. I was cutting Ghost's heart out while he put Dido down again."
"Malloryn!" Gemma yelled.
Her voice echoed through the factory, as she started coughing. Her throat felt raw, and her eyes were watering.
There was nothing but static in her aural communicator, as she coughed and hacked. Damn it. Gemma sucked in a sharp breath, but it only made her lungs spasm again.
Obsidian stared across the gap where Malloryn had been. "Damn it. Dido must have shaken off the hemlock he hit her with."
Somehow she made her way to his side, covering her mouth with one hand. "What do you mean? Where is he?"
"She's taken him," he rasped.
"Then we need to find him!"
Chapter 34
Blood dripped in a clear trail leading toward the docking bay.
"She won't kill him," Obsidian promised Gemma as they pounded down narrow hallways, heading for the submersibles. His eyes were watering, but at least the air was clearer here. "Balfour's instructions were clear: Malloryn is to survive at all costs. He's supposed to lose everything before Balfour plans to grant him the release of death."
