It didn’t take a rocket scientist to predict Jackson’s next move.
She came at me like a brick shit house, balls-to-the-walling-it, wild and crazed. Her teeth shone in the light, large and bright, made all the more disturbing due to her hollowed-out eyes and the claws she tried to rip me apart with. I shouldn’t have been able to perceive the moment—it was too fast, too fucking quick. Yet I reacted instinctively, moving into a defensive position as I prepared for the attack soon to follow.
Each violent thrust and punch she aimed in my direction I evaded or blocked. I somehow saw what she intended to do before her blows found their mark. Each of her rage-enhanced roars goaded me, driving me on. As she lashed out with one hand, I encouraged her to try harder, to try again.
I wanted to watch this beastly woman crumble.
I wanted to see her on her fucking knees.
A hollow pain struck my chest—directly beneath Marigold Vesta’s amulet—and knocked me off balance. My incredible strength ebbed, and I heard Marianne making weak cries, pleading with me to stop. Through a heavy fog, I listened to her request. She wanted to return to her child once more before she crossed over. As I focused on her voice, Jackson butted my nose with her forehead, breaking the vessels and creating an unbridled flow of blood from my nostrils. Blood poured down my lip and coated my chin.
Heavy punches rained down upon my shoulders and face, forcing me to collapse into a huddled ball at her feet. Her boots found the vulnerable hollow of my side, hard rubber soles leaving imprints behind as she kicked me repeatedly. I attempted to cough out the blood that collected in my mouth, forcing the bitter and warm liquid from the confines of my lips. The brutal blows continued, going on and on, until I realized this might be it.
I could very well die before Zagan had the opportunity to take my soul.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
A solid punch sent me on my ass, forcing my chin up and back. My back hit the couch, and the familiar and welcome coolness of metal flickered against my palm. Thank God for miracles. I grasped the gun as Jackson descended on me, her features half human and half wolf. I didn’t know squat about werewolves, but I figured the general rule of thumb applied.
When in doubt, aim for the heart or head.
The moment the gun slid into my hand, I lifted it. I placed the barrel directly beneath her chin and squeezed the trigger repeatedly. The rounds cannonballed out of the chamber and into her head, each bullet shattering teeth and obliterating bone. Bloody eye sockets oozed as tissue flowed freely from the serrated holes. When the last bullet in the chamber passed through what was left of her skull and lodged in the ceiling, I knew the bitch was dead.
She sagged against me. The heavy flow of blood from her face and what remained of her jaw coated my forehead. Her weight was unbearable, and I thrust her aside. I kicked at her legs and torso until she was clear of my body. When she was in an awkward heap, I took several calming breaths, getting my shit straight.
I pushed aside the remnants of the table and went to Joshua. He was so small and still. I cradled his head in my lap and brushed stray locks of hair away from his temples. My fingers were trembling as they crept to his throat. I prayed he had a pulse. I released a heavy sigh at the steady throb that greeted me. He was a brave and extremely resilient kid.
Marianne appeared before us, studying her son. She lifted a hand and sent it across his face, closing her eyes even as her fingers passed through his nose. When she rose and turned toward the wall, her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. I didn’t ask what she was witnessing, because I remembered it all too well.
The radiance of Heaven is something a person never forgets.