Bishop stopped, his face falling, his expression unreadable. Madison instantly stopped crying, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her blood-ridden fingers. Red.
“Bishop?” she asked softly, before carefully standing to her feet. Bishop’s head tilted downward. I followed his movement, and my eyes caught the red stain of blood slowly seeping through his white shirt. His hand came to his stomach before he fell to the ground.
“Bishop!” Madison screamed with such high pitch tones that it shook the street. Whoever was still fighting instantly stopped mid-air, the last of Katsia’s men took the distraction as a time to escape, all scattering off quickly into the wild bushes. Madison flew to where Bishop laid and dropped to the ground. Hector ran, following Madison. Nate used his arms to drag his body along the pavement in an attempt to make it to him.
Bishop’s chest was heaving up and down. Nothing was heard but the crackling of his own blood caught in his throat. The curdling desperate attempts of breathing. The hopeless endeavors at staying alive.
Madison’s screaming grew more frantic. “Don’t you die on me!” Red.
I started walking toward him.
Madison’s cry slowed to a desperate plea, and when Hector pulled Bishop’s shirt up to inspect the wound, I knew instantly it wasn’t good. Blood was gushing out of his wound, trickles leaking out between his lips. He struggled to string any words together, but his hand flew to Madison’s and he pulled her down to his chest, burying his face in her long hair.
“Bishop! Don’t you fucking die on me,” she continued to howl into his neck. I tilted my head.
“Son, I need you to hang on tight, you hear, we have a medic team here. Don’t you fucking go anywhere, son! I just lost your mother, I can’t lose you too!” Hector roared, his palm tightening around Bishop’s other hand.
Blackness slowly started to fade with the electrifying color of vibrancy coming into view.
The smug smirk I had so proudly worn slid off my face instantly. “This is my fault.” Guilt slammed into me as Madison’s grief shook my bones.
“No!” she screamed. “No, no, no!” She banged on Bishop’s chest. So much red.
Nate tried to pull her away as Tate sat down beside her. “Madison, honey, come here.”
“No! Leave me alone! No, he’s not dead. He’s—he’s, Bishop!” She howled again, her screams sending birds to dart from the trees. Her weeping pulled so much emotion that tears fell from the grown men who were huddled around Bishop.
My heart broke into two. Te amo, soror mea.
“This is my fault.” I slowly lifted my hand that held the thick heavy knife and launched it into my throat. Pain shot through as my own blood started to slip over my hands like slime.
“Daemon!” Tate yelled from somewhere as I fell to the ground.
“Daemon?” Madison screamed again, her voice coming in and out.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” I gurgled, blood filling my throat as my vision blurred. The clouds in the sky swirled with the soft blue endless sphere, and my eyelashes fluttered. I tried to suck in more air, but I was drowning. Drowning in my own blood. I deserved it. Red.
“Daemon!” Madison’s voice was coming in quick, her face hovering over mine. My vision was now completely vivid in color, no more stygian.
A hyena laugh ricocheted off the lifeless walls inside of my brain.
My eyebrows pulled in, confusion seeping into every nerve.
We. Win.
“Trickery!” I roared, my back arching off the ground just as death’s grip took hold of me.
“What the fuck!” Nate pulled at his hair, stepping backward.
“Daemon?” I wiped the tears that were pouring down my cheeks. I cradled his head under my arm and kissed his forehead. “No, no,” I wept, slowly rocking him. Something snapped in my chest, opening up and seeping its pain through my veins. My heart was lifeless, my fingertips numb and my legs aching. “No!” I screamed when his eyes lifelessly fell to the back of his head.
I squeezed at the wound on his neck, not wanting to take the knife out. “No. You’re going to be ok. It’s ok. I’ll fix you. I’ll always fix you,” I mumbled to myself, pawing at his wound like a cat would.
“Madison…” A hand came to my arm.
I reared back. “No. He’s not dead.”
Heavy combat boots came into view. “Baby…”
My eyes flew to Bishop. “No! He’s not dead!”
Bishop watched me carefully. “I’m going to tell you about a demon called Trickery, one of his six…”
I shook my head, wiping the tears off my cheek with my blood-soaked hand. “No. I don’t want to hear any more. I don’t” —my eyes cut straight to Katsia— “You…” then I slowly put Daemon’s head back to the ground. When he was safe on the pavement, I gripped the knife that was in his neck and pulled it out. Flicking it around in my fingers, I flew toward her. “Bitch!” I pounced on her like a tiger would on a gazelle, wrapping my legs around her waist.
Her eyes popped open in shock. “Mad—” I reared my hand back that held the knife and stabbed it deep into her jugular.
Her guards knew they were outnumbered, and they knew she had done wrong. There was no way they could have fought us and lived, and they knew that. It was then that I realized they were mere peacekeepers—as such.
Blood sprayed over my face and retribution sunk into my pores as the sweet taste of revenge slid down my throat. Thick choking sounds vibrated from her throat, her hand coming up to the wound. Arms wrapped around my torso from behind, pulling me off her.
“Shhh, baby, it’s going to be ok.”
I hiccupped and pushed away from Bishop.
Spinning back around as Hector started chatting with Katsia’s men, I ran back to Daemon and cradled his head again, swatting away the flies that started buzzing around.
“It’s okay. I got her. She’s gone, you can wake up now. I took care of her, I—I—” I wheezed through my breaths, my chest tightening again. When my throat dried from my rushed breathing and adrenaline shot through me, a guttural scream erupted from my chest. I dropped my head into Daemon, weeping the loss of my brother. My other half, my constant. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, goddamnit, Daemon! Why!” I continued to sob into his chest. “I just got you back,” I whispered. “Te amo, frater.” My swollen eyes scrubbed against his shirt.
“Baby?” Bishop sat beside me and I could hear Tate sobbing somewhere. She loved Daemon, too, even though she didn’t display it that much.
I didn’t answer Bishop. I couldn’t form words. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want my mouth to move, I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to stay here forever and rewind what had happened. I wouldn’t let go of him. Ever. Te amo, frater
“I’m going to tell you about Trickery and circa 2014. Daemon’s biggest slaughter,” Bishop’s voice beamed with something. If you mixed fear and pride into a bowl, your finished product would be his tone. “Trickery was one of Daemon’s demons that he lived with. In April 2014, he was sent to one of the biggest jobs for The Circle. He was told to do one task, bring in the men, and leave. Shake them up a bit, but not to harm anyone. There were twelve grown men, and none of them lived. Up until he came back into your life, we all believed that he had snapped and just gone full schizo, but he hadn’t. That night when he and I had that talk, he told me the truth on what happened the night he brutally dismembered twelve men three times his size, sending the pieces back to The Circle in circular shaped suitcases…” He took a breath, and even though I knew there was no way he was about to get a response out of me, I wanted to hear his story. “Poetic, got to give him that. So we had the talk, because I wasn’t completely comfortable with him being around you, like you could probably remember. He told me about his demons. Trickery, Deceit, War, Evil, Rage, and Death. They were numbered, and Deceit was the strongest voice of all, he had said. It was probably the one that took over him the day he shot you…”