TWENTY-FIVE
JUST ONE WORD, BUT I heard it easily, even over the violent cursing playing like a loop track in my head.
My eyes skimmed over the room, doing something I should have done several minutes ago—assessing available weapons. Malachi would be disappointed to know how badly I’d messed this up. I could only hope I’d have a chance to explain, but it seemed unlikely at this point.
A man next to me wore a belt with a heavy buckle. I wondered how long it would take me to remove it from his waist. There was a crumbled brick and a rusty tin can in the corner. I mentally calculated the distance. I turned my attention to the ropes on the table, eyeing the knots that held them in place. Even as I did, I knew it was too late. Juri and Sil were approaching fast. I let go of Nadia and scooted a few feet away from her, then rose to my feet to meet the threat.
“We are very lucky tonight, my friend,” chuckled Sil. “Not only is she the one you wanted—I’m almost sure she’s Malachi’s girl. She carries his scent.”
“She is not his!” the new Juri shouted as his eyes flashed bright with hatred.
Sil stopped chuckling.
Juri snaked an arm around my waist before I could shrink back. He clutched me to him and buried his face against my neck, drawing his nose from my shoulder to my jaw as I struggled to get away. He was incredibly strong.
“Ah, Sil, you are right,” he said in guttural English. “Malachi has been here. It will take hard work to erase the stink of him from her skin.” His breath shuddered from deep in his chest, like the idea excited him. “Let’s get her to the table.”
No freaking way. I took advantage as he loosened his grip and rammed my knee into his balls. He huffed and doubled over, releasing me. I shoved him aside and took two steps toward Nadia before he caught hold of one of my legs. I hit the floor between two passive suicides. They didn’t even turn their heads to me.
“Sil! Clarence! Kenzi!” Juri growled. “Take her to the table!”
The three Mazikin ran forward and grabbed me, one of them on each side, one holding my arms twisted behind my back. They hustled me to the table, the toes of my boots scraping the ground. I twisted and fought, wishing desperately that Malachi would get on with his distraction, seeing as our worst nightmare was about to come true. What the hell was taking him so long?
Juri loomed in front of me again, pinning me back against the table. He groped for the neck of my shirt and began to tear it off me, but as his friends released my arms, I clapped my hands sharply over his ears. He howled and punched me in the stomach, sending me to the floor. In a haze of pain, I tried to scramble under the table. One of them grabbed my ankle and dragged me back—but not quickly enough to keep me from hooking my fingers over the edge of an incense bowl and bringing it along with me.
I took a breath as they lifted me off the floor and scooped my hand into the blazing bowl. Screaming with pain, I came up with a huge handful of smoldering embers and flung them into the faces of the four Mazikin trying to wrestle me onto the table. They let me go and stumbled back, yelling, fingers scraping at their eyes.
I ignored the agony of my ruined hand and threw myself over the table, trying to get back to Nadia. Someone caught my legs again and I fell face-first onto the table. I kicked out, bashing Sandy-Hair in the face. He brought his elbow down on the back of one of my thighs, sending a numbing throb through my leg. Juri and Sil appeared in front of me, faces gray with ash, teeth bared. Their hands closed over my wrists and flipped me over. Two other Mazikin pinned my feet.
A massive explosion shook the building and everything shattered. I closed my eyes and turned my head against the hail of debris and dust. This was my only chance. Malachi and Ana were right outside, putting their plan into action. I only had a few minutes if I wanted to get Nadia out. I wrenched my arms free from Sil and Juri, who were gaping at the sizable hole that now graced the far wall. The Mazikin at my feet released me when a second explosion collapsed one of the support columns near the exterior wall and sent smoke and fire shooting into the room. Everyone scattered, screaming and running in all directions. Only the suicides in the corner remained stationary.
I rolled to the side and got my good hand on the hilt of Sil’s scimitar, sliding it free before he could do anything about it. I leaped from the table and sprinted toward Nadia, ready to meet anyone who pursued me with deadly force. Or my best effort at it, at least.
Sil took me up on the challenge and proved to be as fast as I’d feared. He jumped to the side as I swung the blade and tackled me when I left myself unguarded. I brought the hilt of the scimitar down hard on the top of his head, and he yowled and reared back, straddling me. I jerked my knee up, hitting him in the back. He fell forward, right into my waiting elbow strike. He rolled off me, but just as I turned to get to my feet, he did his worst. His jagged fingernails carved stinging, fiery trails across my belly. I screamed and kicked him in the face, sending him into unconsciousness.
Kill him now, whispered Malachi’s voice in my head.
But I hesitated. I‘d never killed someone in cold blood, and I had no time to stand around thinking about whether I could deal with the pain Malachi felt when he killed someone—even a Mazikin. I turned back to Nadia and dropped the scimitar. I had only one hand, and I would need it to help her.
A third explosion caused the front of the building to collapse, closing the hole and leaving the narrow front entrance as the only means of escape. Crap. Well, at least the Mazikin were still distracted. I dashed to Nadia and took her hand. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
“Is it going to end soon?” she asked, eyes glazed again, making me wonder if she’d found—or maybe created—more of those pills somewhere along the way.
“I can help you,” I promised, “but you have to help yourself first. Get up and come with me.”
Nadia allowed me to yank her to her feet and tow her toward the door. Then I heard it: the most wonderful sound in the world. Over the screaming, and the crying, and the crunching of feet scrambling over debris, it filled my ears. Malachi’s voice. He was calling my name.
Roaring it, more accurately, loud enough to carry over the din. He was so near, just outside. All I had to do was climb the stairs.
I pushed Nadia through the entryway and onto the staircase. I didn’t make it more than two steps before Juri’s hand latched onto my ankle.
I hooked my arm around the railing and tried to shake him loose, but it was impossible.
“Nadia,” I yelled. “Keep going. Go up. Go out. They’ll recognize you. Go!”
Nadia turned and gazed at me with this detached, dazed look. But she did as I asked. I didn’t have time to feel relieved. Juri, eyes blazing, face blistered and bleeding, expression contorted with rage, grabbed my shoulders and wrenched me around.
“This new body’s obviously not going to last long,” he hissed from between clenched teeth, “so I might as well enjoy its final moments.”
He dragged me by the hair back into the massive room. The chamber was littered with bodies and debris. Sil lay limp against the wall at the far side. With the exception of about five suicides sitting in the corner, the basement was now almost empty. From outside, shrieks and yells and smaller explosions cut through the muffled silence in the room. Malachi was still shouting my name.
Juri threw me to the ground and was on top of me in an instant. “I can hear the esteemed Captain of the Guard outside. He is calling for you. Be a nice girl and answer him.”
I pressed my lips shut, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. His hand closed over my burned fingers and I screamed.
He smiled down at me, excited by my pain. “Very good.”
I brought my knee up, but he was ready this time and shifted out of the way. He punched me in the side, knocking the breath out of me. “My, you’re as nasty as he is. How do you think he’d like to find your body, Lela? It looks like I won’t be able to turn you tonight, so I guess the only thing left is to leave my mark on you for him to find.” He reached between us and wrenched at my sweatpants, ripping them down the front.
“Help!” I shrieked, turning my face to the suicides. “Don’t let him do this!”
They didn’t look at me. They wouldn’t help me. They couldn’t even help themselves. They would die here tonight. Maybe they’d end up back at the Gates, recycled, marching in to complete the unfinished work they’d been sent here to do. If I hadn’t gotten Nadia out, she’d probably be among them, waiting for death to claim her again.
Juri’s fingernails scraped against my skin, right over the gouges Sil had left, making me arch and scream as he pulled my pants down just below my hips. I writhed beneath him, hands scrabbling around for something, anything with which to fight back. No way was this happening. I caught my breath again as screeching, echoing memories rose in my mind, threatening to choke me, to take me from right now and strand me in that stale bed with pink sheets.
“Lela!”
I pushed the memories away. Malachi was calling my name, bringing me back to the present. I threw my hip up right as Juri succeeded in unbuttoning his pants. It unbalanced him, and I twisted to hit him in the neck with my elbow. I reached far enough with my functional hand to snag a nearby hunk of cement and slammed it into his face.
He howled with pain as his fist rocketed forward, glancing off my chin. I brought the cement down again, and this time it crunched into his nose. But he kept coming, punching at me, trying to bite me, trying to tear my pants off.
My vision spotted with black as I hit him with the hunk of cement again.
And again.
And again.
Hands closed around my shoulders. “Lela, stop.” Someone removed the cement from my numb hand as I continued to scream. When had I started screaming?
“Stop,” said Malachi. “You can stop. He’s not moving anymore. Open your eyes.”
His fierce face was right in front of mine. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He held my face in his hands, blocking out the sight of everything but him. “We have to get out of here. This building is going to collapse. Can you walk?”
I blinked a few times, trying to remember what had happened. “Of course,” I said hoarsely. “No problem.”
“Come on.” He reached for my hand but drew back as I whimpered. He squinted in the darkness. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
“Burned.”
He cursed and reached for my other hand. “Let’s go,” he said in a tight voice as he tugged me toward the door.
“Where’s Nadia?”
“She’s with Ana. We have to hurry.”
He led me up the stairwell, arms around me, gently supporting me. It seemed like he was afraid to put too much pressure on my skin, like he was worried he would hurt me. But it didn’t matter. Every part of me had been broken already. My body ached from all the punches it had taken. My belly was on fire where Sil had sliced me with his jagged fingernails. My burned hand throbbed dully. My ripped pants hung from my hips. I wanted to tie the torn edges together, but that would have taken two hands. We made it to the top of the steps. Malachi moved in front of me so he was the first out the door.
Just as I raised my foot to step over the threshold, Malachi shoved me back. I lost my balance and fell against the doorjamb. I looked up in time to see him draw his baton and extend it. We were surrounded by at least eight Mazikin who had clearly been waiting for him to come out of the building. I wouldn’t have thought they’d be so organized without Sil to lead them…which meant someone else was leading them.
“Lela, please stay there,” Malachi said calmly as he moved forward into the circle of enemies, drawing them away from the door, away from me.
More alert now, adrenaline shooting through my veins, I scanned the area, searching for the one person who could have set this trap. Ibram had obviously arrived.
There he was, engaged in a wicked scimitar battle with Ana. I whipped my head back to Malachi, who had already downed three of the Mazikin. He remained in the center of the battle, spinning and jabbing so quickly I couldn’t track all his movements. I stepped out of the doorway and craned my neck, looking for Nadia. She was huddled against a pile of rubble, arms folded over her head, right behind Ana and Ibram, who were doing their best to slice each other to ribbons.
Two Mazikin came out from behind a nearby Dumpster, eyes fixed on me. I looked around for something to defend myself with, but with only one working hand and some possible internal injuries, I doubted I’d be that effective. Malachi spotted them as well. He didn’t say anything, but the tempo of his movements became more urgent. Three more Mazikin down. Only two remained, plus the two who were closing on me fast, teeth bared.
Ana screamed, drawing everyone’s attention. She was suddenly surrounded by a group of Mazikin who had emerged from an alley on the other side of the warehouse.
There were dozens of them.
Ambush.
“Ana!” Malachi shouted, ruthlessly finishing off his remaining opponents. He leaped over the heap of fallen Mazikin, drawing his throwing knives in midair. The two Mazikin who’d been loping toward me turned and ran on all fours in Ana’s direction as she screamed again. They didn’t make it far, falling simultaneously with knives deep in their backs. But it didn’t make any difference for Ana. Ibram stood and watched, a cruel smile on his face. Even from dozens of yards away, I could see why. The Mazikin had overwhelmed her, taking her to the ground. They bit and tore at her in a sort of feeding frenzy.
“Throw, Malachi, throw!” shrieked Ana. “Do it!”
Malachi ignored her and ran toward them. Ibram made a quick motion with his hand, and the Mazikin lifted the struggling Ana to her feet. They hustled her down the street.
“Throw, Malachi, now! Don’t let them take me,” she screamed, the pain and panic evident in her voice.
I stumbled forward in horror, unable to do anything. They were too far away. They were going to escape. With Ana.
“Throw!” she screamed again.
Malachi stopped dead and roared in frustration. There were too many Mazikin. At least twenty of them. The mob carried Ana up the street, Ibram leading the way, blade flashing. Malachi turned to me, his face helpless and tortured. I knew he didn’t care about the odds; he wanted to go after Ana. I also knew he didn’t want to leave me wounded and defenseless. I didn’t have time to help him make his decision. What would I say anyway?
Go, rescue Ana, and die in the process.
Stay safe, leave her to die, and come to me.
I stared at him, paralyzed. Ana screamed again. Malachi’s expression became diamond-hard with certainty. He reached for one of the black spheres strapped to his chest. In a single, smooth motion, he hurled it up in the air. It landed right behind the mob and exploded with enough force to shatter the windows in the buildings on both sides of the street.
The blast knocked me off my feet. I raised my head, ears ringing and popping, in time to see Malachi get to his feet and run straight toward the fiery carnage.
Oh, God.
I ignored both my vicious pain and my numb disbelief as I staggered forward. I limped past Nadia, who was shaking and crying, her hands pressed over her ears. But she was unharmed, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
The clash of metal on metal echoed up the street. I almost howled with frustration. Somehow Ibram had survived and was able to fight. I started to run. I passed the first body lying in a heap on the sidewalk, dozens of feet from the origin of the blast.
I reached the crater at ground zero and ran past, scanning each broken, blackened face. Malachi was several yards ahead, slamming his scimitar against Ibram’s. He was so obviously enraged I was afraid he would make a stupid mistake and get himself killed.
A crumpled figure about ten feet away stirred and moaned in a ravaged yet familiar voice.
“Ana!” I ran to her and bit back my cry. Her beautiful face was utterly savaged. Ragged bite wounds covered her neck. Her eyes were swollen shut. Blood seeped from her nose, her mouth, her ears. I sank to my knees beside her, searching for some way to help.
“Did we get him?” Ana whispered.
“Malachi is fighting him now. It looks like Ibram’s the only one who survived,” I assured, wanting to stroke her, to offer comfort, but no part of her was undamaged. There was nowhere to touch.
Ana read my mind easily and chuckled, a wet, gurgling sound. “It’s all right, Lela. I can’t feel a thing.”
I’d have known she was lying even if I hadn’t been able to read the agony on her face. As much as I wanted it to be true, there was no way the venom worked that quickly. I wasn’t going to waste time arguing with her, though.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” I choked out. “Nadia’s all right. I’m all right.”
“No you’re not,” she rasped. “I can hear it in your voice.”
I carefully took her hand. It was the least ruined part of her. It was a small hand, deceptively small to be so deadly. “I’m going to be fine. I kicked some ass, Ana. You would have been proud.”
“Good girl. Now listen to me. Where’s Malachi?” A tear rolled from one of her eyes.
Grunts and shouts and metallic shrieks rang through the street, echoing off the buildings above as Malachi and Ibram fought. “He’ll come as soon as he can.”
Ana sighed and coughed. More blood trickled from her mouth. “You have to tell him. Tell him I loved him. I always have. Tell him he was my true brother. Tell him thank you a thousand times for saving me, for keeping me myself. He was the only one who understood.”
I could barely see Ana’s ruined beauty through the haze of my tears. “I’ll tell him.”
“Thank you. And—I need you to do something else for me.”
“Anything.”
“Make sure he gets out of the city. He deserves to get out of here. He needs it. Please, no matter what it takes, make sure.”
“I will,” I promised. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Ana’s hand twitched in mine as Malachi’s roar split the night. Ibram shrieked and fell to the ground. The impact of metal on bone was audible even from a distance.
Ana smiled, and then her face relaxed for the last time.