options.
If I tackled the guy, the gun could go off. If I just shot him in the back, the bullet would go straight through Jacks.
I moved around the corner and found the door. I yanked my picks from my pocket, tucked the gun back in its holster at the back of my waist, and crouched down to get started on the lock. I was normally pretty fast with the lock pick, but there was more than one dead bolt and I had to keep pausing to shake the tremors out of my hands. I opened the door just in time to hear Lily call down an answer to something the guy had said. Relief flooded me.
I crept around the corner just in time to see her hand her bow over to a little girl and I knew she was ass deep in trouble. The guy moved the gun away from Jacks’s neck. He was gonna shoot Lily. Right here in front of me. He was going to shoot her unless I did something to stop it.
After all this time. After all the things I’d done to protect her and keep her safe. She was going to get shot.
Anger washed through me as I charged the guy. Barreling into him was like plowing head first into a brick wall, but I was fast enough and mad enough that I knocked him back a step. The gun fired a rapid spray of bullets as all three of us flew through the air and slammed into the ground.
The impact rattled my bones and my head. My ears were ringing from the gunshot. I pushed myself to my knees, shaking my head to clear my ears. For a long second, I was disoriented, the lack of hearing throwing me off balance. Then I looked up the stairs to where I expected Lily to be. She stood at the second-floor landing. For the briefest second, I was overjoyed. She was alive. I’d made it in time.
But her skin had gone a ghostly white. Her mouth was wide and gaping. Her eyes panicked. Her lips bright as blood.
I called her name. At least, I thought I did. Though her mouth was moving, I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t even reach her in time. All I could do was watch as she sagged against the wall. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her feet slipped out from under her. Lily had been shot. That single stray bullet had hit her. She tumbled down the stairs, leaving a smear of crimson on the wall.
And in that moment, I knew what it was like to be killed by a Tick. To have my chest ripped open and my heart torn out. It was beyond pain. Beyond imagining. Shock and anguish roared through me.
The ringing mingled with the screams coming from several different places. And with my own blood pounding through my head, blocking out reason and logic and caution.
There are a lot of things I could have done to eliminate this guy as a threat.
A fist to the guy’s jaw. Over and over again. Followed quickly by solid punches to both kidneys. My forearm pressed into his windpipe to cut off his oxygen supply along with jabs to the ribs. A solid knee in the nuts.
Any one of those things would have disarmed the guy. Hell, I might have done all of them.
I don’t know. Because when I saw Lily go down, pure, blinding rage overtook me. Hot and intense. Next thing I knew, I was being pulled off the guy and pounded myself. Someone was holding me and someone else was jabbing me in the stomach. I kicked up my legs trying to break free and take out the guy using me like a punching bag, but a third guy’s fist slammed into my jaw so hard it made my teeth clatter.
The three of them together, they were going to tear me limb from limb. And I welcomed it, because if Lily was gone, then what was left?
Then I heard the unmistakable click-clack of a shotgun being primed.
Everyone froze.
The two guys who’d been hammering on me slowly turned to face the gunman, edging out of the way so that I could see him. Or rather, her.
The person holding the shotgun was a little girl. She was maybe six. Seven, at most. With long, dark hair and a thin face that looked underfed but stubborn as hell.
I looked from the man on the ground at my feet to the guys who’d pulled me off him. The gun-toting asshole had a
If I tackled the guy, the gun could go off. If I just shot him in the back, the bullet would go straight through Jacks.
I moved around the corner and found the door. I yanked my picks from my pocket, tucked the gun back in its holster at the back of my waist, and crouched down to get started on the lock. I was normally pretty fast with the lock pick, but there was more than one dead bolt and I had to keep pausing to shake the tremors out of my hands. I opened the door just in time to hear Lily call down an answer to something the guy had said. Relief flooded me.
I crept around the corner just in time to see her hand her bow over to a little girl and I knew she was ass deep in trouble. The guy moved the gun away from Jacks’s neck. He was gonna shoot Lily. Right here in front of me. He was going to shoot her unless I did something to stop it.
After all this time. After all the things I’d done to protect her and keep her safe. She was going to get shot.
Anger washed through me as I charged the guy. Barreling into him was like plowing head first into a brick wall, but I was fast enough and mad enough that I knocked him back a step. The gun fired a rapid spray of bullets as all three of us flew through the air and slammed into the ground.
The impact rattled my bones and my head. My ears were ringing from the gunshot. I pushed myself to my knees, shaking my head to clear my ears. For a long second, I was disoriented, the lack of hearing throwing me off balance. Then I looked up the stairs to where I expected Lily to be. She stood at the second-floor landing. For the briefest second, I was overjoyed. She was alive. I’d made it in time.
But her skin had gone a ghostly white. Her mouth was wide and gaping. Her eyes panicked. Her lips bright as blood.
I called her name. At least, I thought I did. Though her mouth was moving, I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t even reach her in time. All I could do was watch as she sagged against the wall. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her feet slipped out from under her. Lily had been shot. That single stray bullet had hit her. She tumbled down the stairs, leaving a smear of crimson on the wall.
And in that moment, I knew what it was like to be killed by a Tick. To have my chest ripped open and my heart torn out. It was beyond pain. Beyond imagining. Shock and anguish roared through me.
The ringing mingled with the screams coming from several different places. And with my own blood pounding through my head, blocking out reason and logic and caution.
There are a lot of things I could have done to eliminate this guy as a threat.
A fist to the guy’s jaw. Over and over again. Followed quickly by solid punches to both kidneys. My forearm pressed into his windpipe to cut off his oxygen supply along with jabs to the ribs. A solid knee in the nuts.
Any one of those things would have disarmed the guy. Hell, I might have done all of them.
I don’t know. Because when I saw Lily go down, pure, blinding rage overtook me. Hot and intense. Next thing I knew, I was being pulled off the guy and pounded myself. Someone was holding me and someone else was jabbing me in the stomach. I kicked up my legs trying to break free and take out the guy using me like a punching bag, but a third guy’s fist slammed into my jaw so hard it made my teeth clatter.
The three of them together, they were going to tear me limb from limb. And I welcomed it, because if Lily was gone, then what was left?
Then I heard the unmistakable click-clack of a shotgun being primed.
Everyone froze.
The two guys who’d been hammering on me slowly turned to face the gunman, edging out of the way so that I could see him. Or rather, her.
The person holding the shotgun was a little girl. She was maybe six. Seven, at most. With long, dark hair and a thin face that looked underfed but stubborn as hell.
I looked from the man on the ground at my feet to the guys who’d pulled me off him. The gun-toting asshole had a
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