Everyone except Andre, Oliver, Lila, and me appeared confused. The members of the Order weren’t stepping forward to turn themselves in, but they also weren’t trying to escape. The officers hadn’t moved forward to arrest the Order members, but they hadn’t stepped aside either. I was too weak to counteract the cambion’s glamour.
“You will not hurt me,” I heard Lila rasp. When I glanced back at her and Andre, she clutched the earbuds in one of her hands, and Andre’s hold on her was loosening. I could see his trembling hand, the way his muscles spasmed.
No one could deal with her. No one but me. Well—there was Oliver, to be fair—but this was my battle.
I crossed the room just as Andre released her. She backed away from him and me, a smile dancing on her lips.
I grabbed two knives from Andre’s belt while he stared at his empty hand. Stupefied. That was his expression; it was the same one that graced the faces of the other supernaturals in the room.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, Lila?” I asked, lunging at her with the knife.
She jumped away. “Sorry babe,” she purred, “but you’re going to have to catch me first.” Her form streaked across the room, and I bolted after her.
In front of the doorway out, Oliver squared his shoulders, spaced his feet apart, and pointed his gun at Lila. “Just say no to the hot, crazy ho.” He pulled the trigger, and the sound of a gunshot rang out.
I screamed as a bullet tore into my side.
Oliver threw his hands in the air. “I got her! I got—oh fuck,” he said when he saw me.
Behind me, Andre’s angry howl raised the hairs on my arms. He might be dazed from the glamour, but he was becoming aware enough to know I’d just been shot. And once he came out of the trance, he’d be pissed.
Lila tore past us, pushing Oliver to the ground as she exited the room.
He yelped. “Not cool, wench!” he yelled after her.
“Move,” I gasped out at Oliver as I trailed behind her, clutching my side.
“But sweets …” he said, rising back to his feet.
I pushed him back down and darted out of the room.
Behind me I heard Oliver mutter, “I might’ve deserved that.”
I ground my teeth together as movement jostled my new injury. It was the third time I’d gotten shot, and it was still just as blindingly painful as the first two.
I followed the scent of ash and roses through the castle, still gripping the throwing knives. Fat lot of good they’d do me at this point. My aim while injured would be crappy at best.
When I passed through the front entrance, I glanced over the staircase at the barren landscape. Amongst the white snow, a small form was sprinting away from the castle.
Until my wound healed, I’d have a hard time catching her, even with my vampire speed. I tightened my hold on the throwing knives. If I decided to throw these at her, I’d likely miss, and then I’d be weaponless and she’d be further away.
Making a split-second decision, I steadied my breathing and focused on my target. I lifted my arm and took aim. Move through the pain, I chanted to myself.
I threw my entire body into the throw. I released the knife, biting back a cry as pain sliced through my side, and leaned a bloody hand heavily against the stone railing.
The knife embedded itself right between her shoulder blades, exactly where I’d intended it. Well, dang. That actually worked.
Lila cried out and fell to her knees.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed away from the railing and bounded down the stairs. I held my side as I ran, blinking several times to eliminate the black dots clouding my vision.
Ahead of me, Lila was whimpering. She reached over her shoulder and grasped the hilt of the knife. Letting out a scream, she pulled it out and tossed it aside. It took her several precious seconds to push herself to her feet, and I was almost upon her by then.
I let loose the second knife I carried, hissing in pain as I released it. This one embedded itself just below her ribcage. Chances were, it hit a vital organ.
Lila choked out another cry and fell into the snow once more. I picked up the knife she discarded and stalked towards her as she crawled away.
Lila moaned and glanced over her shoulder. “So … fierce,” she gasped out.
I leaned down and removed the knife from her lower back, and she screamed. Perhaps something about my visit with the devil had changed me, because I hardly batted an eyelash at my own cruelty. How our roles had reversed within a single evening.
“You want to know something?” she said, her voice weakening. Already her blood was pooling around her.
“No,” I said, standing over her.
She flipped onto her back and winced. “I secretly didn’t want you to die. You reminded me too much of myself.”
“We’re nothing alike,” I said, staring down at her.
“We are,” she insisted. “Beautiful, seductive—wicked.”
She coughed thickly. Now that there was no one to glamour, she seemed fragile.
I knelt at her side and drew up one of the throwing knives. “You chose to be evil. I have not.”
Even as she eyed the knife, she laughed weakly. “You will, though. You won’t have any other choice. And the good guys? The ones you think you represent? They will hunt you down and steal your life from you. The saddest part of all is that they will think the world is a better place because you are no longer in it. That will be your legacy.”
Her words chilled me; they felt too close to the truth. I placed the knife at her throat. “How about you worry about your own immortal soul right now.”
I saw the whites of her eyes flash—saw true fear in them. Lila didn’t want to die. The thought terrified her. “I already have a place of honor in hell,” she said, her voice wavering.
I cocked my head at her. “Are you sure?”
This time I smelled rather than saw her fear. “I’ll see you there, Proserpine,” she promised.
“No, you won’t.” In one smooth stroke I slit her throat. “And my name is Gabrielle.”
Chapter 30