Out of nowhere masses of silk rained down between Trap and the soldier. The silk spun in a tight cocoon, caging the soldier and his gun in the silken threads until the soldier couldn’t move. The silk continued, spinning round and round so fast it made Trap dizzy. All the way up the body and neck to the mouth, the nose and eyes. The soldier fell hard, hitting the ground right beside Trap, but still the silk came, tighter and tighter, winding his enemy up until there was no possible way to move or breathe.
She came out of the night. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her eyes were liquid, her skin perfect. She crouched down beside him and ran her hand over him. Gently. As if it mattered. It never mattered to anyone. Trap blinked at her. She’d killed a man in seconds. Seconds.
“We’re even,” she said softly.
“No we’re not.” He heard the words come out of his mouth and he meant them. “We’re not even, woman. Don’t think for one minute that we are.”
Her eyes flashed at him. Liquid. Smoldering. She hissed between her teeth, turned and leapt toward the side of the house, moving up and over it fast, heading around to the other side. He didn’t know if spider woman was escaping or going to help Draden. Right then it didn’t matter, because the soldier he kicked in the chest was slowly climbing to his feet and his eyes looked angry.
Chapter 20
Pepper felt bile rising in her throat at the sight of the soldier, his eyes locked on her with such hungry need. She’d killed him. She’d done it to save her children and Nonny, but not like this. The knife, the gun, was a far better way to die. She couldn’t let him die alone, not when she’d caused this. She’d never killed this way before and she knew, the moment he was gone, when the paralysis hit his lungs and he no longer could breathe, she would vomit.
She’d killed the soldier on the roof to protect Malichai, but she’d done it cleanly. This man looked as if he idolized her. He had to know he was dying. She doubted that he even realized she was the one to kill him. He was enthralled with her. For a moment his face blurred and she felt tears on her face.
He crashed to the ground, still staring at her. Gasping for breath. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his, not even when his adoring gaze began to fog over. He looked so happy. So satisfied. She cursed herself. Hated herself. Hated what she was.
Pepper. Behind you. Damn it, behind you.
She heard Wyatt’s voice as if it was far away. Wyatt. Everything good. How could she possibly have ever thought she belonged with him? Something hit her hard from behind and she slammed forward, falling, straight into the body of the soldier. She landed on the soldier, still staring into his eyes. She heard the rattle in his chest. Felt his last breath. She lay there on the man she killed, a weapon Braden and possibly Whitney had made her into. Maybe she killed him for the right reasons, but this was blasphemy.
A hard hand yanked her up. Wyatt stuck his face in hers. “Get movin’. Get back to the girls.”
She looked at him. His face was hard. Carved of stone. His eyes flat and cold. A crushing weight descended onto her chest and just sat there. He’d seen this abomination. He knew what she was.
“Now, Pepper. Get to the girls!”
His commanding voice snapped her out of the daze she was in. She saw him turn, saw him meet another soldier, chest to chest, two combatants coming together with terrible force. She did what he said because she was trained as a soldier, and an order was an order.
Wyatt didn’t have time to process the look on Pepper’s face. He filed it away for the future. Right now he wanted her safe, inside where there were no supersoldiers to fight. The one swinging at his head with his gun was one tough bastard. Wyatt ducked, feeling a little as if his chest had been smashed into pieces when they’d come together. And truly, it might actually be the zombie apocalypse. The soldier he’d shot numerous times was moving, thrashing around, making hideous sounds – a serious Badboy, this one.
Wyatt ducked and made the mistake of trying to plant his fist in Badboy’s throat. Badboy moved just enough that Wyatt’s fist hit solid bone. He brought up his knee hard, needing room, shoving the soldier off of him. Fortunately, he was enhanced and that extra strength gave him the upper hand when it came to shoving. Badboy was lifted off his feet and sent flying.
I need you now, Wyatt, Ezekiel snapped. Right now. Nonny’s setting out your instruments, but you’ve got to get in here.
Wyatt could have groaned, but he didn’t have time. Badboy was charging, floundering a little without the weapons Wyatt had stripped from him.
Go, Draden snapped, firing from behind him. He punched numerous bullets into Badboy, a pattern, high and low, every soft spot and every major artery. Get to Malichai. Ezekiel will get out here to help me.
Watch zombie boy. He’s goin’ to come at you, Wyatt cautioned.
Draden turned the gun on the zombie, who was trying to get to his knees. He went back down when Draden added more holes to his chest.