Cloak & Silence (Book 6 of First Generation)

For that target to be homosexual...

 

The kindest act would be to cut Draygon’s throat and leave him dead on the street. But as Maris looked into a set of eyes identical to his own, he couldn’t do it.

 

In spite of everything.

 

Knocking Draygon unconscious, he quickly moved away through the screaming civilians, with his hand pressed against his deep wound.

 

I have to get help. At the rate he was bleeding, he’d never make it to a hospital. He only had enough time for one call before he passed out, and most likely died in the street...

 

Without hesitating, he called the one single voice he needed to hear most.

 

“Hey, love. Are you on your way back?”

 

Maris panted with the weight of his pain as his vision dimmed. “I’m badly wounded, Ture.”

 

“What?”

 

Maris skirted into an alley and pressed his back to the stone wall as he slid down it, deeper into the shadows. He glanced around for more assassins. “I was attacked.”

 

“Baby, where are you?”

 

Maris tried to focus, but warm blood kept flowing over his hand and down his leg. He slipped on it and hit the street.

 

“Mari! Talk to me.”

 

“Um...” Everything spun around him. He tried to get up and couldn’t. He was dying and he knew it. “Ture... I love you.”

 

*

 

“Maris!” Ture shouted as Maris’s whispered words lanced his heart.

 

There was no answer.

 

Terrified as tears filled his eyes, he snatched off his apron and called Darling. He handed his apron to his sous chef. “You’re in charge until I get back.”

 

Her jaw dropped as he ran for the door. The moment Ture reached the street, Darling answered.

 

“Darling? It’s Ture. Maris just called me and he’s been attacked and is wounded. I think he passed out while he was talking to me. He didn’t have a chance to tell me where he was. Help him, please. Tell me how to find him.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“I’m outside my restaurant.”

 

He could hear the sounds of Darling running. “Okay...he left here about twenty minutes ago. He should be closer to the restaurant than the palace. He would have automatically gone for shelter. An alley probably. I’m on my way, but I have to hang up to trace him.”

 

Tears streamed down Ture’s face. “Find him, please.” His breathing ragged as panic threatened to overtake him, he hung up and ran down Maris’s route, trying to figure out where Maris might have gone.

 

By the fourth empty alley, he was ready to scream.

 

Please don’t be dead...

 

Raw, unmitigated agony racked him. It was so consuming that he wanted to sink to his knees and scream out from the weight of it. Only the knowledge that Maris needed him kept him upright. He had to keep it together.

 

If Mari were here, he’d tell him to stay calm. To breathe.

 

As he reached the sixth alley, he heard the sounds of sirens. There were three bodies on the ground up ahead, and people gathered around them.

 

Closing the distance, he noticed drops of smeared blood on the sidewalk that stopped suddenly.

 

Maris. He must have realized he was leaving a trail.

 

Scared and shaking, Ture headed for the alley closest to the blood. He opened his mouth to call out then stopped himself. What if there were more attackers in the crowd? They might hear him and finish Maris off.

 

His entire body weak in fear and agony, he searched the alley for any telltale signs. He was just about to leave when he noticed a small red smear on a brick at his feet. Then he saw the heel of a dark maroon boot buried in debris. . . .

 

“Mari,” he breathed, running toward it.

 

Somehow, Maris had managed to tuck himself behind a small electrical unit. Careful not to hurt him, Ture pulled him out.

 

Oh God, no.

 

Blood saturated Maris’s side. His face was pale with a bluish tint. Ture cradled him to his chest as he sobbed uncontrollably. “Don’t you dare die on me, Mari! You hear me! Don’t die. I can’t live without you.”

 

Suddenly, he heard someone running into the alley. Fearing it was an assassin, Ture grabbed Maris’s reserve blaster from his boot and angled it toward the intruder.

 

Darling froze and held his hands up. “Don’t shoot. It’s the good guys.”

 

Ture dropped it instantly. He couldn’t speak as he realized how much of Maris’s blood was on him now. His lips trembled.

 

Darling and Hauk knelt by his side. He took Maris from Ture’s arms and laid him flat on the ground. “I know you’re going to hate me for this, Mari, but . . .” He ripped Maris’s shirt and exposed the jagged wound in his side.

 

Opening a medical bag, Hauk called for Syn.

 

Ture struggled to contain his tears. The last thing he wanted to do was distract them with his useless hysteria. But it was so hard when inside he was screaming.

 

His hand trembling, he brushed the hair back from Maris’s face while Darling and Hauk worked on him.

 

Darling cursed at the same instant Hauk’s eyes widened with panic. He tilted Maris’s head back and started chest compressions. “Breathe, damn you, breathe!” he growled.