For a second, all I feel is the relief, so deep it hurts like a toothache, down through my roots, the marrow of my bones.
“Saint?” she murmurs, staring up at me, confused. Her soft fingers brush my cheeks. Her nails are broken and bloody, her body bruised.
I brush her hair back from her face. That’s bloody too.
“I’m here,” I say, and my voice cracks. “I’m here, M. I’ll never let you go again. I promise. You’re mine. You were always mine.”
“What about…” Her gaze moves behind me, searching. “Where’s Dr. Jekyll?”
“That’s what you want to know?” I can’t help but smile. “He’s with Annabel Lee.”
“Where’s Dr. Augustine?”
“Is that the guy beating the shit out of you?” Heath asks, his head appearing over the edge of the pool. “That guy’s toast.”
“No,” she says. “We have to get out of here. He’ll be coming—the guards—”
Another loud crack sounds, and we all flinch.
“Also toast,” Heath says, looking up at something I can’t see.
“Get out,” Mercy says frantically, scrambling to free herself. “You don’t understand. We have to get out of here.”
“Okay,” I say, pulling her back. “We’ll get out. Just hold onto me, baby. I’ll get you out.”
I stand and see what I didn’t notice in my rush to have her in my arms. The big man is lying on his back beside her, blood spreading around him, his eyes open but unseeing, a hole in the center of his forehead.
“Let’s go,” Father Salvatore calls from above. “We need to get her out.”
“Hold onto me,” I say to Mercy, and she wraps her arms and legs around me like a monkey. I quickly scale the ladder and see another dead man on the floor, this one in a guard’s uniform. The spectators are screaming and running, half of them already gone, leaving the area above mostly empty. We start for the door, but suddenly, a deafening alarm starts to blare.
“Through there,” Mercy yells, pointing to the door. She tries to dismount, but I clamp my arm around her, refusing to let her go again.
Angel goes first, gun in both hands, pointed at the floor. Just as he pulls open the door, a loud clanking sound echoes through the place, and a second alarm chimes through the hallways, this one higher pitched and localized to the one door we’re exiting.
“Hurry,” Mercy calls. “They’re locking down the place. We won’t be able to get through any doors!”
“Give me the phone,” Dante calls over the noise.
I don’t have to ask which phone. I hand over Walker’s phone, and he hits a contact. A second later, Nate’s nerdy face appears.
“Looks like you’re having fun,” he says, though I have to read his lips as much as hear him. Angel strides ahead, stopping at the next door. Like Mercy predicted, it’s locked.
“Give us a code,” Father Salvatore calls.
Nate looks away, and his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Door’s open,” he says, not looking up. “Another alarm’s going to sound.”
The same sharp, tinny sound starts when we open that door. The overhead alarm is still blaring, and suddenly, three guards turn into the hall in front of us.
“Get down,” Angel bellows.
I drop to the floor on top of Mercy, shielding her with my body. Five shots ring out in rapid succession, echoing around us in the blaring chaos of the alarms.
I turn my head and see Heath on his knees, and my heart stops. This cannot happen again. It can’t. We’ve come so close to losing him twice already.
“Heath,” I scream, grabbing for him, trying to drag him under me too.
“Get off me, you fucker,” he says, kicking at me. “It’s hard enough to shoot with only one hand.”
