Broken Skies

And yet he’s here. He searched me out when I stormed off instead of leaving. He tried to defend me and got himself caught. It’s something Jace would have done. It’s what Jace did do, let himself be caught so I could escape.

“He’s still my brother you know.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“I’m going to do whatever I can to get him back.”

“I know,” he says.

“Will you… do you hate me for that?”

“I wanted to. It would make it easier. You are part of the race that would wipe mine out if they could. Your sole mission is to rescue the man I swore to Kov’s bondmate I would kill. I probably wouldn’t be in this situation right now…” He shrugs and a small chuckle breaks past his lips. “No, I don’t hate you. I tried to convince myself I did. But I couldn’t. You are fu

Lir sees all that in me? I’m a lot of things, panicky, hot-headed, impulsive… but all that? Maybe his vision isn’t as clear as he thinks it is.

“Even without knowing about my brother, with all the other things you could have disliked me for, why did you agree to go with me in the first place?”

“I didn’t have much choice at the time,” he says. “It was either stay with the humans who I knew would kill me or trust the one girl who might help me. Even then, I knew that there was something special about you. Given the choice again, knowing what I know now and where it would lead, I would still make the same one.” His head turns and I can see the shine of his eyes facing me. “You are everything I was taught humans were not.”

His fingertips brush across my cheek as he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “Jax, I—”

Bang! The sound travels through the small room and we both jump. Two more loud raps on the door send my heart into my throat and my pulse upwards. They’re back.

I ca

But this isn’t like before. I can fight back. I’m bigger, stronger and I know how to kill.

The fingers of one hand curl into claws, perfect for ripping and tearing. I won’t go quietly. Icy fear has no place in my body now. Instead, I’m filled with fire, burning me from the inside out and just waiting to be released. My breaths come quicker, expanding my lungs and filling my body with tension. A buzz starts at my toes and runs up my body. I’m on edge. I’m ready to spring, bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet.

“Stay with me, Jax,” says Lir. He is still holding my hand even though he hasn’t changed position. His hold anchors me, holding me there and giving me something to focus on. He won’t leave me. I’m not alone.

The tension recedes slightly and I squeeze his hand.

“When the door opens, I’m going to push one of these shelves over and out. You just need to run. Get out of here. I will be right behind you.” Questions run around in my head, but I can only nod, too busy working on switching from fight to flight.

The door edges open slowly, a narrow line of light appearing on the wall. At first it hurts my eyes, too long in the dark, and I have to squint against it. There’s only one shape in the doorway, not four like I’d feared.

It’s the young one, Zach, the one who shot us with the jolt gun now wavering in his grip.

Crash! A large metal shelf falls to the ground. Zach jumps backwards out of the way and I go. Jump onto the fallen shelf, step level to level until I’m out the door and back on the ground. I take a moment to look from side to side, but the other three men are nowhere in sight. We’re still in the store, so I run down an aisle and dart around the corner.

Where the hell is Lir? There’s no noise and a quick glance back confirms that he is not behind me as he said he would be. I should keep going, but I double back down the next aisle over, slowing into a creep as I approach the end near the cooler.

No Lir. No Zach. No one. The satchel, however, is sitting by the door. I’m not leaving it behind.

Five steps take me across the narrow space between the end cap and the satchel. I grab the strap and pull it over my head as I turn. My forward momentum stops when I crash into someone and bounce backwards, crashing back into the wall and losing my grip on the satchel.

The unbuckled flap flies open and I watch the cuff and my knife skitter across the floor to my right. Something else clatters down. The jolt gun. My attention turns back to Zach, the obstacle I ran into.

Zach’s gaze travels from my face to my hands to the jolt gun. I’m unarmed, but so is he. This will come down to who is quicker. And smarter.

I fake a step away from the knife, as if I’m going to run and he’s three steps in that direction before he realizes I went for the knife, not the exit.

My knife, the lighter object, traveled farther across the floor, so by the time I’ve reached it, Zach is almost to the jolt gun. There’s no time for me to move in before he’ll be able to get the gun up.

Jace is the knife thrower, not me, but he did give me one lesson. I hope it took.

A deep breath. I pull a picture of Jace into my mind, replaying the image of him throwing his knife into a tree trunk. Flip the grip. Hold the blade. Arm straight down. Don’t flick the wrist.

The knife leaves my fingers and rotates one…two…three… four times before sinking into the side of Zach’s neck. He’s still moving, but blood wells out around the knife and when he removes it a flood of red gushes out.

After two staggered steps to the side, he falls to one knee and then tilts sideways onto the ground, landing so that the blood pours over his face and pools on the floor under his head. His chest rises for two wet breaths and then stills. His fingers twitch once as if he’s still trying to reach the gun that sits only inches from his outstretched hand.

So much blood. I close my eyes and swallow three times then step closer, my face a blurry shadow over the red pool on the floor. The burn starts in my stomach, traveling to the back of my throat and then I’m on my knees, vomiting up the entire can of cold, congealed beans.

By the time my stomach has stopped heaving, the pool of blood has spread out, wetting my knees and extending under the gun. I grab it anyway and wipe it on my pants. Doesn’t really do much, but… it’s something. I spring to my feet and turn to find Lir standing behind me.

“I told you to run,” he says.

“I didn’t see you. I couldn’t leave without you…” My voice is hoarse, and I cough to clear my throat. “I saw the satchel. I didn’t see him. He went for the gun. I didn’t have a choice…” Tremors climb up my arms and the jolt gun vibrates against my thigh with the movement. Tears creep into my eyes. I just want him to understand. “I don’t want to be a killer. He was just—and I—” The words get stuck in my throat and my stomach turns again. My breath comes in wheezing gasps and spots form at the edges of my vision.

Lir leans closer until he’s right in my face, pi

As if called by his words, voices sound from the front of the store. Lir pulls me away from the body, gently but persistently. “Let’s go.”

I could have run. I was faster. I should have left, but… “I got the gun.” The barrel shakes back and forth when I hold it up.