“Is that a joke, Char?” Dalton grinned. “Because we both know there’s nothing you can do to stop me, and lover boy over there doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to rescue you this time.”
“I can take care of myself,” I said through gritted teeth, echoing the conversation I had with him my first day back in New Haven.
“You keep saying that.” He shook his head, pacing toward me slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. His hands were claws, stretched out and ready to tear me apart. “I can smell you from here.”
My hands balled into fists against Abram’s chest. I would have liked to have said there was some marked improvement, but his breaths were just as shallow and infrequent as ever. No, if we were going to survive this, it would be on me to make it happen.
“You’re gonna wish you never came back here,” I said, my voice surprisingly strong and steady.
“You gonna strike a pose at me, Runway Girl?”
I stood, angry, scared, and totally devastated. This would likely be my last stand. Before the sun came up, I would probably watch the last bit of life drain from the man I loved and then feel the last bit of blood drain from me.
Meanwhile, Dalton would no longer have to worry about mounting hospital bills. I could almost envy him that.
Still, if I was going to die, I would go down kicking. I owed Abram that. I owed my mother that. I owed myself that.
I spied Satina from the corner of my eye, which sparked an idea. I didn’t know how to use my magic … but she did.
“You’re gonna be really sorry,” I repeated, this time with renewed vigor. Sticking my still bloody hand out for her to feast upon, I motioned to Satina. “Let’s finish this.”
“I’m afraid not, Supplicant,” she said, and she might as well have added, “I hope you’re wearing clean underwear, because the cops are gonna see it as they’re scooping you up.”
My entire body jerked toward her. “Excuse me?”
“This battle does not belong to me. It never has. The end must be the end, no matter how difficult it is.” She leveled her gaze at me. “The object of pain is not to avoid it, but to outlast it.”
“How very Dr. Phil of you,” I muttered, feeling my pulse speed up to about ten times its normal rate as Dalton neared us.
“You can’t trust a Conduit, Char.” He chuckled loudly. “Figured your boyfriend would have warned you about that.” His eyes flickered to Abram’s unconscious body. “You know, the first time I caught his stench on you, it took me a while to deal with it. I really thought we had something special, me and you.” He made a fake pout with his lips. “Turns out I was wrong. Oh well, just makes the prospect of tearing his throat out that much more satisfying.”
“I won’t let you touch him,” I said, my voice nearly a growl.
“If you really want to save him, then step away from him,” Dalton said sternly. “After all, you’re the prize, baby doll. You’re what the whole spectacle has been about. I’m sure you love that, vain as you are.”
“And if I do step away?” I asked, a tremble in my voice. “If I went to you willingly, you would really let him go unharmed?”
“Come to me and let me lap up that precious blood of yours, and I give you my word as a gentlemen and a scholar that I won’t touch a hair on his big bad head.” He winked at me. “He’ll have a good life, Char. Who knows, maybe he’ll find some new precious little flower to desecrate.”
“Take the sword.” Satina’s voice went directly into my head, bypassing my (and presumably Dalton’s) ears. Her command only made my anger burn hotter in my chest. Lord knew she wouldn’t be any help—she’d told me as much herself. But I’d saved Abram without her, hadn’t I? If I could trust Dalton about anything, it was that I couldn’t trust Satina.
“It’s fake,” I answered, eyeing where she had placed the sword by Abram’s side earlier. Did she really think I would fall for that? For all I knew, she was on Dalton’s side.
“Take the sword,” she repeated.
“I’m not an idiot,” I choked out. “It’s plaster and wood.”
Dalton’s determined gaze turned curious. Skeptical. Maybe even a little worried. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Satina’s gaze burned into me. “Touch the sword, you stupid girl!”
“Oh, the hell with this,” Dalton said, shaking his head like a bull. “Offer’s off the table. I’m gonna kill him, Char. I’m gonna rip apart everything you love and bury it in places man will never touch again. But I like you, and I’ll kill you first so you don’t have to watch. You’re welcome.”
And with that, he sprung toward me in the air.
“The sword!” Satina’s voice boomed through my cranium now. “Touch the sword!”