Fractured (Guards of the Shadowlands, Book Two)

THIRTY-ONE

 

A RAIL-THIN TEENAGER WEARING a stained suit and skinny tie vaulted onto one of the tables, kicking aside the centerpiece. He squinted at the dance floor, and as soon as his eyes landed on me, he was in motion. Diving onto all fours, he threw himself onto another table, sliding on the tablecloth before taking another leap on his way to me. Kids lunged out of the way, screaming as a second Mazikin bounded into the room, a muscular guy whose blond dreads looked like a lion’s mane. He, too, was wearing a suit. A bow tie, even.

 

The two of them had eyes only for me. Snarling, they made their way across the huge room, punching and knocking aside anyone unfortunate enough to be in their way.

 

Malachi released me, and both of us were reaching for our knives when Levi nailed the thin Mazikin midair—with a chair. The impact sent the Mazikin to the ground, bleeding and dazed.

 

The other Mazikin roared when he saw his friend go down, and he lunged for Levi, but Jim shoved Levi away and shot a hard punch to the Mazikin’s stomach before leaping into the air and performing the most acrobatic kick I’d ever seen. He landed on his hands. The Mazikin landed facedown. The kids nearest Jim gave him a round of applause.

 

Neither of the invaders had made it to the dance floor. Not even close. Two security guards ran in a second later, having heard the commotion. I could only assume they’d let these guys in thinking they were students. One of them lifted a phone to his ear as he leaned over the skinny Mazikin. A bunch of our classmates crowded around the guards, all talking at once about how these guys had crashed our prom.

 

“I’m calling the police,” one security guard finally said in a loud voice.

 

The other security guard held up his hands. “We’ve got this under control, kids.” He stood over the blond Mazikin like he’d been the one to take the guy down.

 

Levi chuckled between heavy breaths. He turned to catch Jillian in his arms, grinning as she practically wrapped herself around him. Jim straightened up, not yet ready to relax. He cast a sidelong glance at Malachi and me while he ran his hand up his rib cage, probably wishing he could pull the knife I knew was hidden under his jacket. A security guard shooed him away, and he backed up reluctantly, dripping aggression. His posture didn’t loosen until he felt Tegan’s hands on his back.

 

The music switched off as a song ended, and the DJ didn’t seem sure he should load up another track. Most of the kids on the dance floor were staring at the crowd around the Mazikin.

 

Malachi looked over at me. “That was too easy.”

 

“I know.” We stood close as we watched the two Mazikin, who were now handcuffed but conscious, each with an overweight security guard sitting on his back. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of emerald silk—Laney. I turned my head to see her standing next to Ian. She glared at me while he glared at Malachi. I cleared my throat and stepped away from my Lieutenant.

 

Greg turned to Ian. “Hey, your majesty,” he called. “How do you feel about cutting out for the after-party early?”

 

“Fine with me.” Ian put his arm around Laney’s shoulders and spoke too softly to her for me to hear what he was saying. She nodded, directing her gaze at the floor. Somewhere along the line, I had missed something. Malachi had said Ian was comforting Laney—had they broken up? I shut my eyes and gave myself a hard mental shake, stomping down any stupid hope trying to take root in my brain.

 

The failed Mazikin attack had killed the party mood, and everyone trailed out to their cars, some of them stopping to give police their names to follow up with statements. I eagerly sidestepped them, leaving them to cart away our attackers and keep them off the streets for at least one night. My mind was focused on where the next attack would be coming from.

 

Our crew climbed into the stretch SUV to head to the after-party at an all-ages club in Providence. Malachi, Jim, and I had already checked it out, in case the Mazikin decided that would be a better place to attack. I scooted onto the leather seat of the vehicle, making sure my skirt didn’t ride up and reveal the weaponry strapped to my thighs.

 

Ian gave me a sad smile and took a seat across from me, next to Tegan and Jim, who seemed only aware of each other. Levi was in a fabulous mood, and I couldn’t blame him; Jillian was looking at him like he was some kind of superhero. They were like the opposite of Laney and Malachi, who sat several inches from each other, stone-faced. Greg and Alexis seemed to have gotten into some kind of tiff as well; she had her back to him while Greg kept glancing at his watch, like this was the last place he wanted to be. I sympathized. Then my purse started to vibrate. I pulled my buzzing phone from my clutch.

 

“I’ve been trying to call,” Raphael said when I picked up.

 

“Sorry. We had an incident at prom.”

 

“Anyone hurt?”

 

“No, it’s fine. How is he?”

 

“That’s why I was calling. He’s awake, and we’re at the Guard house. He knows the location of the nest.”

 

My head shot up, and I met Malachi’s steady gaze and nodded. This was it. If we could make it there and attack preemptively, our friends might be safe. “Can you come get us at the Phase Three Club?” I asked quietly, looking apologetically at Jim. He didn’t notice, though. He had his tongue halfway down Tegan’s throat. So much for taking it slow.

 

I hung up. Malachi pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time; then he reached over to pry Jim off Tegan. Duty called.

 

The SUV braked suddenly, and then lurched over a landscaped median, tossing Laney right off the seat. Alexis screamed, and Tegan and Jim jerked apart. Greg’s fingers curled over the edge of the seat, his face and knuckles white. Levi banged on the thick plastic barrier separating us from the driver, but there was no response from the front.

 

The SUV veered, and one wheel bumped up on the sidewalk, sending off sparks as it took out a parking meter. Malachi lunged forward and drove his fist against the barrier. It cracked but didn’t give. The SUV accelerated sharply to the shrill of horns and the sounds of screeching tires as a few cars swerved out of the way. It jumped the curb completely and skidded onto a dark, narrow side street.

 

Malachi punched at the barrier again, leaving a smear of blood across the thick plastic, but the thing didn’t give. As the SUV swerved into the parking lot behind some old brick building, I looked down at my hands, at the thin pockets of steel shot sewn into my silvery gloves. Then I drew back my fist—and drove it straight through the barrier, shattering it completely.

 

A wall of scent hit us, turning my stomach. Our driver was Mazikin. But it was too late for us to do a thing about it. He was driving straight for the side of the building. The only thing we had time to do was throw ourselves down as the thunderous impact raised the back end of the stretch SUV high into the air before sending it crashing to earth again. The front end crumpled, and bricks tumbled through the destroyed windshield. I was thrown against the seat and then fell to the floor on top of several of my classmates as glass and metal crunched and popped, as everyone around me screamed. And despite all that noise, I still managed to hear the animal howls coming from outside the vehicle.

 

I raised my head and saw them, closing in on us from both sides of the lot, eyes bright and feral, hands curled into claws, with dirty faces and wild hair, old and young. They had found the perfect moment, when all of us had our guard down, when we thought we were safe, and they’d set up their ambush. And one thing was very clear: they had no intention of being gentle.

 

Hands grasped my face, and I jerked away, but they held me fast. “Lela. Look at me. Are you hurt?” Malachi asked. His face appeared in front of mine after I blinked a few times.

 

“Not hurt.”

 

His expression was grim, but his eyes were soft. “Good. Get up. And stay close to me.”

 

“But I can—”

 

His hands tightened. “They’re here to take you. Stay behind me.” All I could do was nod. His hands fell away from me, and he whirled around to face the threat.

 

The tinted windows of the SUV were spiderwebbed with cracks, but not yet shattered—until one of the Mazikin slammed a crowbar through the glass. Another did the same on the other side. With crashing blows, they hammered their way from the rear of the vehicle to the front, turning glass into shrapnel as screams once again filled the cramped space.

 

Malachi and Jim pushed our stunned, disoriented friends to the floor and hunched over them awkwardly, their shoulders pressed to the low ceiling. Malachi had taken off his jacket and thrown it over Laney and Tegan’s heads, revealing the full extent of his preparations for the evening. He drew two throwing knives from the holsters that ran down his sides, but had to close his eyes as he was pelted with shards of glass. As soon as there was an opening, though, his knives were flying to thin the crowd outside. With my ears still ringing, I leaped onto the seat and lunged for the crowbar as it came bashing through the window in front of me, ripping it from the Mazikin’s hands and stomping my shoe right onto the creature’s arm. He yowled and fell away.

 

“Lela!” Malachi shouted.

 

“I’m right here!”

 

I crawled along the glass-strewn seat, slicing my knees to ribbons but terrified to step on my friends with my titanium shoes. All the girls except for me were crouched on the floor, practically in the fetal position, whimpering and flinching. I couldn’t blame them, and I was actually glad they weren’t watching as Malachi hurled the last of his throwing knives at our attackers just beyond the windows. The noise was overwhelming: crunching, rending, shrieking—and growling. Snarling. Snapping. It was like being attacked by a pack of wild dogs, except they were smarter and could wield crowbars.

 

A hand grabbed for mine from the floor: Laney. She stared up at me with wide doe eyes. “Can you get us out?”

 

“We will, but if you have a phone, you might want to call the police,” I said as a pair of arms reached for me from the outside. Before I could get away, they coiled around my waist and yanked, slamming my hips and shoulders against the side of the SUV.

 

“I’ve got the girl with the hair!” the owner of the arms called, and the answering hoots of excitement told me they were all coming on the run. I reached for one of my knives, but a second pair of arms joined the first, and then I could barely move at all. I was bracing myself to be pulled into the night air and surrounded by Mazikin when a bat slammed down on my attacker, breaking bone with a dull snap. I turned my head to see Ian hunched behind me with a baseball bat, his eyes blazing.

 

“You told me to be ready,” he huffed, and then raised the bat and smacked another Mazikin dead in the face.

 

The rear doors of the SUV flew open as we were attacked on all sides. Mazikin tried to crawl through the shattered windows, but apparently Ian had warned Levi, too, because the guy was standing protectively over Jillian as he pulled a bat from his overstuffed duffel. He and Ian each took a side, swinging with deadly precision, temporarily holding the Mazikin off. With that cover, Malachi tugged his backpack from under a seat, and from it he pulled his baton, and handed another to Jim. We’d hidden extra supplies in our overnight bags in case the fight ended up in the parking lot. Malachi and Jim pushed out the back of the SUV, extending their batons into staffs and driving back the Mazikin mob waiting outside.

 

From over Malachi’s shoulder, I could see we’d already cut their numbers. We were now facing off with fewer than twenty, but they all seemed determined to get to me. Rage burned in my chest, shooting strength to my hands and fingers. I tugged my gloves up my arms, reassured by the weight along my knuckles, knowing Michael hadn’t been kidding when he’d said I could punch through concrete. I drew a knife in each hand and got ready to jump from the back and carve my way through our enemies.

 

A shout of pain from behind me was all the warning I had before arms wrapped around my waist, dragging me back into the depths of the SUV. A hand clamped over my mouth, and something metal scraped against my cheek. A heavy gold watch. I screamed against his palm as I realized who had been giving the Mazikin so much information about us. Greg. I didn’t know when or how they’d enticed him. Judging by the Hugo Boss tux and the watch, they’d paid him well to be their spy, and they’d certainly gotten their money’s worth.

 

Struggling bodies were all around me, and I couldn’t lash out with knives or heels because I was terrified of hurting or killing one of my friends. I tried to shout for Malachi. He was fighting for his life—and mine—just a few feet away, thinking I was safe inside the vehicle. Like it was all going down in slow motion, I watched his clipped, precise, and devastating swings as he drove the Mazikin off. Jim had dropped his staff and was resorting to hand-to-hand combat, staying just outside of the deadly arc of Malachi’s staff. I was failing them. With a desperate wrench, I drew one of my knives and plunged it into Greg’s arm.

 

He cursed and caught my fist in midair as it descended again, stripping me of the knife with a brutal twist of my wrist. His hand stifled my shriek as the white-hot pain shot up my arm. As he dragged me farther from the rear doors of the SUV, I saw both Ian and Levi struggling with Mazikin, barely keeping the creatures’ jaws away from their faces. I was thrown onto my stomach on one of the seats, and Greg crashed down on top of me.

 

“She’s really strong. You’ll need more than one,” Greg called as he fought to keep me beneath him, mostly by squeezing my broken wrist, grinding the splinters of my bones together, making me fight to keep from passing out. Finally, he hoisted me up and shoved me shoulders-first out the shattered window, cutting up my side and shredding my dress. A body reeking of incense grabbed my arms and began to tug, pulling me out of the SUV. I kicked out at the last second, nailing Greg in the chest with the deadly heel of my shoe. His mouth dropped open in stupid surprise, and he fell backward into the SUV.

 

The Mazikin dropped me, and I landed on my hands and knees on the asphalt, and then collapsed onto my chest as my broken wrist failed me completely. Rough hands ripped my garters off, stripping me of my knives. I kicked out again and again, and then lunged under the SUV, but one of them grabbed my legs and dragged me back. Once again, I tried to call out, but all that came from my mouth were wordless cries. I didn’t know if I wanted Malachi to hear those.

 

Two Mazikin, a balding man who looked like he should have been behind a desk and a woman with most of her teeth missing, gripped my arms and yanked me up, while another Mazikin wrapped himself around my legs.

 

“We’ve got her!” the woman called to someone over her shoulder.

 

I fought wildly, even as my wrist bent at a horribly unnatural angle and made me see stars. I opened my mouth to scream, but another hand closed over my face. This time, I bucked forward, caught a finger between my teeth, and bit down hard, choking on blood as a roar of pain filled my ears. I spit blood and flesh onto the asphalt. Teeth sank into my neck in the next moment, and I was lurched backward away from the others by the enraged Mazikin whose finger I’d just amputated.

 

“No!” shouted a voice behind me.

 

It wasn’t Malachi. Or Jim. Or Ian.

 

It was my mother. Or, at least, the Mazikin who wore her skin.

 

She tackled the Mazikin who’d chomped on me, and I fell to the ground, my neck and shoulder throbbing and buzzing. I lifted my head to see the Rita Santos–Mazikin struggling with one of the men from the homeless camp, the burly drywall guy who’d been putting the moves on the skinny waitress. He stumbled away from my mother, scowling. She leaped to her feet and threw her head back, meeting my eyes. Her wild hair flew around her face. She put out her hand. “Come.”

 

“No fucking way,” I snarled, rolling clumsily to my feet. The sounds of battle were still coming from the back of the SUV. Only twenty feet or so away. Most of the Mazikin were focusing their efforts there, probably to distract Malachi and Jim from what was happening. I drew a sharp breath into my lungs.

 

“Guards!” I yelled.

 

“Estúpido!” she screeched, and then lunged for me, grunting and growling in the Mazikin language at her pals, who leaped on me like a hungry wolf pack. I kicked out with my heels, jabbing, throwing hard punches with my good hand. Nearby, I could hear Malachi shouting something, but I couldn’t make out his words over the snarls of my attackers.

 

And then—I had an opening. I hit the Rita-Mazikin’s chin with a blow hard enough to send her head snapping back, jerked my knee up and struck the drywaller in the balls, and head-butted the toothless woman. I staggered away from them, my chest heaving, trying to summon the strength for their next strike.

 

The sound of squealing tires drew my head up.

 

The Mazikin van didn’t have time to stop.

 

It hit me head-on.

 

 

 

 

 

THIRTY-TWO

 

MY WORLD EXPLODED IN a nuclear blast of pain, and then it all went away. I didn’t remember hitting the asphalt. All I knew was it didn’t hurt. When I opened my eyes, my mother was leaning over me, stroking my face, tears falling from her cheeks, making me think it was raining.

 

“Lo siento, mija,” she whispered. And then she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, like she was trying to jar something loose. She stood up, grunting in that grating, harsh Mazikin language and pointing at something.

 

Tegan screamed.

 

A sound must have come from my throat, because my mother looked down at me again. “I take her. Good enough for Sil.”

 

The van door slammed, cutting off Tegan’s shrill cry. All around me, grunts and snarls receded, followed by more doors slamming. The van’s engine roared, and then wheels crunched nearby. I didn’t know how far, exactly. I couldn’t turn my head.

 

Malachi’s face appeared over mine a few moments later, cutting through the noise and the chaos all around me. His expression was filled with emotions I couldn’t understand. He leaned down, closed his eyes, and touched his forehead to mine, just for a fraction of a second. And then he sat back on his knees as Ian and Levi arrived. They stood over me, staring in horror. I wished I knew why. Or maybe, I should have been glad I didn’t.

 

“Is anyone else hurt? Bitten or scratched?” Malachi asked.

 

Levi shook his head. “They grabbed Tegan and went running as soon as Lela got hit. The girls are kind of shaken up. Alexis might have a broken ankle. But everyone else seems fine … except for Greg.” He put a trembling hand to a bleeding gash at his temple. “He hit me. And then he grabbed Lela. He was helping those guys.”

 

“Laney said she called the police, and I just called an ambulance,” Ian said, his voice shaking as he moved closer. “They’ll be here soon.”

 

“Lela’s not going to the hospital,” said Malachi calmly.

 

“What? She’s still alive!” Ian shouted, his face turning red. “They might be able to save her!”

 

“She needs more than a doctor. Please go take care of the others. Tell Laney I’m sorry,” Malachi said. “I’m taking Lela.”

 

He started to lean over me again, but Ian shoved him away, his palm hitting Malachi’s chest with a solid thump. Malachi was on his feet with terrifying speed. His hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of Ian’s shirt, and he wrenched him close, so the two of them were nose to nose above me.

 

Malachi spoke through clenched teeth, his accent emphasized by the cold rage in his voice. “You are very, very fortunate that Lela said you treated her well. If it weren’t for that, I would gladly hurt you. Now. You’ll have her back soon, and I will not stand in your way. But tonight, I am taking care of her, and you will not stand in my way.”

 

Ian’s jaw ridged with tension, and to his credit, he looked more pissed than scared. “You are a clueless idiot, Malachi. If I didn’t know it would upset her, I’d have caught you upside the head with a bat ages ago.” He bunched his fists in Malachi’s shirt. “And if she dies, you can count on it. I don’t care how long it takes me to catch you off guard. It’s going to happen, asshole.”

 

Malachi pushed him away, and Ian stumbled back, only to be caught by Levi. Malachi’s breaths were sawing in and out, and he looked like Ian had caught him upside the head with a bat. A choked sound bubbled from my mouth, and Malachi was on his knees again instantly, blocking out everything else.

 

“Henry is picking us up,” he said in my ear. “He’ll be here any minute. You’re going to be fine.” His voice was soft. And laced with fear.

 

“Tegan,” I whispered.

 

His eyes searched my face. “Jim is going after her. He’s called Henry to find out where the nest is, and he’ll do reconnaissance, but he promised not to go in alone. I’ll join him as soon as I know you’re going to be all right.”

 

Jim must have been going crazy, knowing what might happen to her. “Go … now.”

 

Malachi’s expression twisted with pain. “Lela, please. Don’t make me leave you.”

 

I couldn’t argue. In that moment, I was relatively sure his presence was the only thing that kept me from letting go, from drifting away. I tried to thank him, but all that came out was a wheezing breath.

 

“Shhh,” he soothed, lightly caressing my cheeks with his warm fingers. Over his head, I watched the red and blue lights flashing, signaling the arrival of the police. Malachi ignored them. He touched his nose to mine, and I was amazed to see tears glittering in his eyes. “Don’t leave. I know it hurts. Just don’t leave.”

 

Actually, it didn’t hurt at all. I felt like I was encased in a block of ice, immobile and frozen, nothing working except my brain, which couldn’t quite make it past the pain on Malachi’s face, past the lump in my throat as he whispered to me, telling me to stay with him.

 

I love you, I wanted to say. I would never leave you.

 

Darkness licked at the edges of my consciousness, tugging my thoughts away and drowning them. Raphael’s face appeared in front of mine. “I’ll get her to the car,” he said quietly as his gaze shifted to Malachi’s. “No one will notice us leaving. And I’ll start working on her immediately.”

 

I fought very hard to bring one word to my lips, to push it off my tongue. “Awake.”

 

I didn’t want him to make me sleep, to plunge me into darkness. I didn’t want to leave Malachi. I didn’t want to leave Jim without Tegan. I would be healed, and then I would get up fighting.

 

Raphael leaned forward. “It will hurt, Lela. More than you think.”

 

“Faster?” I whispered.

 

He nodded. “You’ll be on your feet faster. Is it worth it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He lifted me in his arms, and set me in the backseat of the Guard car as we were serenaded by the peal of ambulance sirens. “Most of your friends are all right. The police will assume this is gang-related violence. No one will think to ask where you are.”

 

My head was cradled in Malachi’s lap. “Drive away slowly, but go now,” he said to the person in the front seat, who I could only assume was Henry.

 

Raphael locked eyes with Malachi. “She requested to remain awake while I heal her.”

 

Malachi’s eyes grew wide. “No. It’s too much, too painful. She’s been through enough.”

 

“It’s her choice, not yours, Lieutenant. The only choice you have is whether you’ll stay with her.”

 

Malachi’s jaw started to tick. “That’s not a choice.”

 

Raphael chuckled. “There’s always a choice.” He bowed his head over me. “Your neck is broken, Lela. That’s why you can’t feel anything. Once I fix that, you’re going to feel everything. And you have a lot of injuries that I need to heal very quickly. We’re not going to do this slow and easy. Are you ready?”

 

He took the blink of my eyes as a yes. “Very well.”

 

And then … nothing happened. I stared up at Malachi’s face, feeling warm and drifty, and he stared down at me, looking like he was feeling all the pain. In seemingly no time, we were back at the Guard house.

 

“You can carry her to your room,” Raphael said. “I’ll finish there.”

 

Malachi’s arms closed around me, and I was conscious enough to be horrified as my wounds smeared blood over his black tuxedo shirt. He didn’t seem to care, though. With an almost painful tenderness, he scooped me up and ascended the stairs, nodding as Raphael announced he was going to check in with Henry before joining us.

 

I watched Malachi’s face as he clutched me against his chest. I wanted to tell him I needed him to keep touching me, to keep looking at me with dark eyes filled with emotions that had burned all the cool indifference away. He laid me down on his bed, and I inhaled deeply because all of it smelled like him, more than his pressed and cologned tux, his pillowcase and sheets, his room … they smelled like the real Malachi, earth and sun.

 

He knelt beside the bed, looking like he was at war with himself, torn between two agonizing extremes. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed, and when he opened them, it was clear he had made his decision.

 

“You looked so beautiful tonight,” he said with a sad smile. “It was devastating, you know.” His fingers smoothed over my cheek. “Once again, I have been such a fool.”

 

I tried to turn my head, but still couldn’t. I think he picked up my efforts, because he leaned over so that I could see him better. “I’m going to tell you something,” he said, “because I can’t go on like this. And I’m going to do it now because you don’t have the strength to argue or fight me or walk away. It seems like that’s all we do lately, and it’s killing me.”

 

I stared at him, and deep in my numb chest, I felt the tremors of my unsteady heart.

 

“From the moment I met you, nothing has been the same. You were a burst of color and fire after decades of gray. All my wishes and wants, wrapped up in the most frustratingly lovely package.” His eyes stroked over my face. “But when I said I could let you go, when I said I could stop loving you, I meant every word. And since that moment, I’ve tried very hard to do just that. To turn it off, cut it out …” He bowed his head. “To try to feel something for someone else, hoping it would make what I feel for you fade away.”

 

Something warm streaked down my face, and Malachi followed it with his gaze, his expression turning pained as he caught the tear with his finger.

 

“I believed I would be a better Guard if I felt nothing for you. I was good before I met you, and I wanted that back. It didn’t matter how much it hurt me. I believed I had earned every moment of unhappiness with all my mistakes.” He lifted his fingertip, gazing at the crystal drop in the light. “I’m so sorry for causing you pain, Lela. I’ve missed you every second … the things we had, that we could have had. All the times I could have comforted you. Encouraged you. Touched you.” His lips curled up at one corner, all bitterness. “As it turns out, after pushing you away, I’m not a better Guard. Quite the opposite. And despite my best efforts, I don’t feel any less for you than I did before. In fact, as I’ve watched you shoulder your responsibilities, as I’ve felt you grow stronger with every fight, as I’ve seen how all these things hurt you and yet somehow cannot defeat you, I’ve only fallen deeper.”

 

His eyes met mine. “I cannot undo my mistakes, all the lives lost because of me. I have to find some way to atone for that, and I have no idea how long it will take. I know I will have to be stronger and smarter than I have been if I want to succeed. But perhaps I will think more clearly if I am honest with myself—and with you—about one thing.” His lips, warm and soft, touched my temple, and then my forehead. “And so,” he whispered, “you can slap me when you regain the use of your arms.”

 

He carefully stripped one of my gloves off and pressed my palm against his chest. He looked down at my fingers, my painted wine-red nails spread across his shirt, over his heart. Then he raised his head to look at me. “This beats for you. It has for some time. And it always will. No matter what happens now, no matter how you feel, that’s how it is for me.”

 

He winced and gently placed my hand at my side again. “No, Lela, please don’t cry.” He wiped the fresh tears from my cheeks, which flowed as my throat closed too tightly for me to draw breath. “I don’t expect anything from you. I won’t stand between you and Ian. I want you to be happy. I just … I couldn’t lie about it anymore. You deserve better from me.”

 

“Wise choice, Lieutenant,” said Raphael as he strode into the room. “Henry has decided to join Jim at the nest. But they’ll await Lela’s orders before they move.”

 

Malachi sat back on his knees, his fingers withdrawing from my face and leaving me stunned and choking on my own emotions. I barely heard anything else Raphael said as he sat down on the edge of the bed; I was too busy replaying Malachi’s words in my mind, trying to make sure I hadn’t imagined them. I needed to tell him how much I loved him, how I forgave him, how—

 

It was like being cut open, like a red-hot scimitar sliced down my spine, from neck to tail, shooting agony along the stalks of my arms and legs, sending me arching all the way off the bed. The real healing had begun, reconnecting nerve to nerve, muscle to muscle, bone to bone, and it crushed my thoughts, stole my words. Fire curled along the walls of my chest, and then caught and exploded, pumped by my blistered heart through each of my arteries, turning me to ash.

 

I know I must have screamed because Malachi’s arms closed around me. He buried his face in my neck.

 

“I’ve got you,” he said in my ear. “I won’t let you go. This will be over soon. Just hold onto me.”

 

And I did. As the agony continued, as my body knitted itself back together, leaving only silver scars and bad memories, I coiled my newly unbroken bones around his body and used it as my anchor, let him hold me down as I shuddered and seized, let him bind me to the present with his words in my ear and his hands on my skin. I might have hurt him; I was holding on tight enough to turn bones to pulp. But he was so strong; he took it all and then offered more of himself. I clung to it, eagerly, and as the pain began to subside and my vision cleared, I stared at his face and knew he’d felt it all along with me.

 

“You’re hurting,” I whispered between hot jolts from Raphael’s hands as he put the finishing touches on my healing, making my body strong and ready for what was coming.

 

Malachi looked into my eyes. “I’m hurting because I love you. But not being with you is infinitely more painful.”

 

“All done,” Raphael announced.

 

Malachi loosened his grip on me immediately. He got to his feet, taking a few uncoordinated steps back before steadying himself with a deep breath. I lay very still for a few moments as the pain evaporated, becoming an unreachable, distant memory, like my mind was wrapping it up tight, walling it off. I sat up, my eyes on Malachi, desperate to tell him everything, to give him my love in return for taking his. But we had to get through this first. I couldn’t let Tegan down by having a heart-to-heart with Malachi while the Mazikin strapped her to a table and ripped her soul out of her body. She’d become my friend, and I don’t walk away from my friends.

 

“Call Jim and Henry,” I said to him, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Tell them we’re coming.”

 

“What’s your plan?” asked Malachi, already reaching for his phone.

 

“I’m going to give myself up to the Mazikin.”