I grab his head, my fingers digging into his hair, and slam his face into the concrete. The sound is a wet, heavy thud. He gasps, his hands clawing at my chest, his bandaged right arm trying to push me off.
"You touched her!" I snarl, driving my fist into his jaw.
The bone splinters under my knuckles. He spits a mouthful of blood and teeth onto my collar, his bared teeth bared in a desperate, ugly snarl.
"She's... she's still... going to die," Silas wheezes, his hand reaching for a broken piece of rusted iron on the floor.
I catch his wrist before his fingers can close around the metal. I twist it until the elbow pops with a dry, splintering sound. He lets out a high-pitched, wet shriek.
I don't stop. I drive my elbow into his sternum, feeling his ribs collapse under the impact like dry twigs. He goes limp beneath me, his chest cave-in, his breathing turning into a shallow, rattling wheeze.
I wrap my hands around his throat, my thumbs pressing deep into his windpipe, cutting off the air he doesn't deserve to breathe.
"This is for Meave," I whisper, my voice dropping into a register that is dead, cold, and absolute.
I press down, my fingers sinking into the flesh of his neck, until the final, frantic struggle in his chest simply stops. His eyes roll back, wide and glassy, staring at the ceiling of the warehouse he’ll never leave.
It’s over.
He's dead.
I stand up slowly, my legs shaking with a mix of rage and the sudden, violent drop of adrenaline. I’m covered in blood, Silas’sblood, the guards’ blood, the dust of the concrete. My knuckles are raw, the skin split and bleeding, but I don't feel any of it.
I cross the floor to Atara.
She’s still tied to the chair, her chest heaving, her swollen eye tracking my movement through the dark.
I pull the black-handled knife from my forearm and slice through the heavy plastic zip-ties with one quick, fluid motion. The ties snap, and the moment her hands are free, Atara stands up.
She lunges forward, wrapping her arms around my neck, burying her face in the crook of my shoulder. I catch her, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her into my chest with a completeness that feels like I'm trying to fuse our bones together.
I hold her, my face buried in her dark, tangled curls, breathing in the scent of her, the smell of vanilla. I am shaking, the terror of almost losing her finally catching up to my knees.
"I've got you," I whisper against her skin, my voice thick and cracked. "I've got you,Kisa. You’re safe."
She clutches my shirt with her small, dirty fingers, her whole body trembling against mine, and for the first time in five years, the dark warehouse is completely quiet.
35
Atara
I can hear his heartbeat. It’s too fast, a hard, heavy thump against his ribs that vibrates directly into my cheek. He is holding me so tight I can’t actually expand my lungs all the way, but I don’t tell him to let go. I don’t think I could stand up on my own if he did.
The silence of the warehouse is suddenly broken by the heavy screech of tires outside. A second later, the double steel doors are shoved open, and Kieran bursts through, his gun raised, followed by three enforcers. He stops, his eyes sweeping over the four dead guards, the blood on the concrete, and finally settling on us.
"Boss," Kieran pants, lowering his weapon slightly. "Perimeter is secure. We hit the trailing vehicles. Echo's wrapping it up."
Lorcan doesn't look at him. His chin is still pressed hard against the top of my head, his fingers dug into the fabric of my torn dress. "Take the girl," he growls, his voice a rough, gravelly vibration against my collarbone. "Get her to a medic."
I pull back just enough to look over my shoulder. Tania is still tied to her chair, her eyes wide, tears streaking through the dust on her cheeks. She looks terrified, but she’s breathing.
"Atara?" she whispers, her voice cracking.
"I'm okay, Tania," I say, trying to force my voice to sound steady. It doesn't really work. My jaw is throbbing, and my chest feels like it’s been run over by a truck, but I manage a small, shaky smile. "Go with Kieran. He’s... well, he’s one of the good guys, technically. He’ll take care of you."
Tania looks at Kieran, then at the massive, blood-stained man holding me like a lifeline. She swallows hard, nodding slowly. Kieran walks over, his knife slipping out to cut her zip-ties with practiced ease. He helps her stand, keeping his arm around her shoulder as he leads her toward the exit.
"We’ll clear the floor, boss," Kieran says, pausing at the door. "Give us ten minutes."
