Darling kept himself between Lise and their fire as he went with her, toward the ship. Blasts of color ricocheted everywhere. Thank the gods they weren’t better shots. Over the past years, he’d often laughed at Clarion for his lousy aim and had even tried to teach him how to shoot better.
Thank the gods Clarion was a slow learner.
One blast came within millimeters of Lise. Had she not put her head down a second earlier to run faster, she’d have lost it.
His blood boiled. So this was Clarion’s great plan? To kidnap his sister and what? Hold her for ransom? Was he out of his idiotarian mind? Arturo wouldn’t pay to get her back. He’d assume her raped and then she would be useless to him. The only value she had to their uncle was as a virgin bride. Shit, shit, shit…
Lise made it to the ship, then hesitated as she glanced at Darling and the men on their heels. If she went up the ladder, she’d be an easy target even with their limited abilities.
Turning around, Darling pulled out his blaster and opened cover fire, trying to buy her enough time to get into the cockpit. He had no intention of wounding them. All he aimed for was the space between Clarion and the man on his left.
But it didn’t work that way.
The moment he pulled the trigger, his blast was absorbed as if the Resistance fighters were protected by a force field. An instant later, pulses of energy shot out in all directions.
It was a distinctive pattern he knew all too well, since it was one he’d designed and created.
No…
Surely not…
One of the blasts struck him hard in the chest, knocking him off his feet forcefully enough to skid him across the concrete floor. Had he not been wearing his armor, it would have killed him. But worse than his wound, the pulses split into a whole round of volleys that bounced through the hangar—just like he’d built them to do.
He watched in horror as one of the pulses went straight into his little sister’s back. “Sashi! Help me!” she screamed before she was paralyzed by the blast. It knocked her away from the ladder to land beside his ship.
Her cry for him tore him apart. But not as much as the fact that he couldn’t get to the little sister he’d sworn over and over again to protect from all harm.
Terrified, he stared at her as a pool of red spread across the concrete, bleeding out from under her body.
No…
No!
There was so much blood. It soaked her clothes and covered her outstretched hand. Darling wanted to go to her and protect her. But he couldn’t move at all.
And he knew exactly why. The tricom—the weapon he’d built solely for Zarya to protect her from enemies. Instead, it’d been used against him and Lise.
I killed my baby sister…
Tears filled his eyes as the truth kicked his teeth in and struck him harder than the blast that had paralyzed him. Grief and agony shredded his conscience.
By trying to save Lise, he’d caused her death. How could he have been so stupid? How could fate have done this to him?
The Resistance members came forward with cocky strides, laughing at their success. Two went over to Lise while the rest surrounded Darling.
One of them kicked his shoulder with the toe of his boot. “Look at that. The bastard can’t move at all.”
Another one clapped hands with Clarion. “I can’t believe it worked! Man, we need to send Kere flowers or a woman or something to say thank you for this.”
Clarion smiled as he pulled the tricom off his belt and kissed it. “I can’t wait to tell Zarya how well this worked. She’s not going to believe it.”
The rebel who’d bent over his sister stood up. “I got bad news, guys. The bitch here is dead.”
Darling felt a single tear sliding from the corner of his eye as the rebel confirmed his worst fear.
His precious baby sister was dead.
Because of me.
Because of something he’d invented…
Over and over, he saw images of Lise reaching for him to hold or protect her. Saw the smile in her eyes and heard her laughter as she hugged him tight, and told him how much she loved her big brother. He’d been eight when she was born, and from the moment he’d first seen her bald head and those huge hazel green eyes staring at him, and she’d wrapped her tiny, baby fingers around his pinkie before gumming it, she’d owned his heart.
No matter their fights. No matter their differences. She had meant everything to him.
How could she be gone?
How could I have killed her?
The soldier closest to him cursed. “Are you sure?”
“See for yourself. The blast left a huge hole in her. What a waste, too. We could have definitely had fun with her while we waited for payment.”
Unmitigated fury, agony, and grief tore through Darling’s blackened soul.
How could he ever face his mother and brother after this?
How could he ever face himself?
Why couldn’t it have killed me, too?