Until I Die by Amy Plum

I can’t do this. As the thought flashed through my mind, I had a panic-induced out-of-body experience. I felt like I was up in the air looking down at myself: a teenage girl standing in an alleyway brandishing a sword at a man almost twice her size. I can’t, I thought again. I’m too afraid to move.

 

My enemy righted himself and started toward me. I looked up into his cold, murderous eyes, and that was all it took. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins and my heart beating in my chest, and I was suddenly in the zone. With a yell that I didn’t realize was coming from my own throat until it stopped, I began moving, slashing, dancing backward and leaning from side to side to avoid his flying sword before lunging back toward him and chopping at his torso. He was able to match each of my moves, but I also met his.

 

Time stood still as our battle raged on, until all of a sudden my foe was down on the ground. Vincent stood behind him, his sword run through the numa’s chest.

 

I instinctively swung around, my sword held before me as I scanned the alleyway for any remaining danger. Violette stood a few yards away, pushing her foot against a crumpled heap on the ground, using her weight as leverage to pull her sword out of the motionless body. Vincent had taken out his own enemy as well as mine.

 

And Georgia was sitting curled up in a little ball inside a doorway, as Arthur dragged himself down, back to the wall, into a sitting position next to her. He held his upper arm in his hand, blood flowing freely through a large tear in his shirt at his shoulder. He kicked at something next to his foot, and his slain numa’s dismembered head rolled away, settling to rest against its body.

 

I ran to Georgia as she uncurled. As if in a daze, she stretched a hand toward Arthur. “Are you okay?”

 

He looked surprisingly strong for being badly wounded as he glowered at the decapitated body. “I’ll be fine,” he growled.

 

The others rushed over. Vincent took a look at the wound and then pulled off his T-shirt and wrapped it around Arthur’s shoulder, binding it tightly underneath the arm.

 

Violette smoothed her hand comfortingly through Arthur’s hair and pulled out her phone. “Jean-Baptiste? They’re back in action. We have four dead numa here—up near Montmartre. Should we just leave them, or do you want to send someone for the bodies?”

 

She made arrangements while Vincent went to pick up their abandoned coats.

 

“You should probably come back with us to La Maison,” I said to Georgia. As I helped her to her feet, I glanced up at Vincent, who was back, slipping his coat on as he stood over us. He shook his head and gave me a helpless shrug. I had forgotten about Jean-Baptiste’s injunction against my sister’s visiting the house. Damn his rules.

 

“I’d rather go straight home,” she said, solving my quandary.

 

“I’ll walk the two of you to a taxi,” Vincent offered, helping her along. Georgia was shaking so hard she could barely stand.

 

“Is Arthur going to be okay?” she asked, addressing Violette directly for the first time that night.

 

“He’ll be dormant in a few days. After that his wound will heal,” she responded with the assurance of someone who had lived through this type of experience before.

 

Once on the main street, Vincent packed us into the back of a taxi. “Go straight home—don’t stop anywhere along the way,” he called as the taxi drove off.

 

Jules was waiting outside our building when we arrived. He opened the taxi door and helped us out, and then leaned in to pay the driver. “I heard you were incredible,” he said, leading the way to our front door.

 

“What?” I asked, confused.

 

“Superhero Kate, fighting off the numa,” he replied, admiration glowing in his eyes. He swung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him.

 

Having been so worried about Georgia and Arthur, I had completely forgotten about my performance in the alley. I fought a numa, I marveled. And this time I did it without Vincent possessing me. I shook my head in wonder, before glancing back at Jules and admitting, “It wasn’t me who killed him. Vincent did the honor.”

 

“He told me you kept the guy at bay until he was able to get to you. That’s pretty amazing for only a couple of months’ training. But then again, I was already fully aware of your awesomeness.” He murmured this last part as he opened the door. Georgia staggered silently past him into the front hall and pressed the button for the elevator.

 

“She was so close to being killed,” I said. “Arthur barely got to her in time to save her life.”

 

“Vincent told me.” Jules nodded. “Make sure she rests the next couple of days. She’ll be pretty weak—Arthur will be getting all her energy.”

 

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

 

“So . . . you don’t know all our secrets yet!” Jules responded with a wry smile. “Just ask Vincent about energy transfer. And make sure Georgia rests while she gets over her shock.”

 

He turned to leave, stepping down from the door to the pavement.

 

“Hey, what happened to your date?” I asked.

 

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