“Do you have a better idea?” Beckett snaps.
Reece makes a strangled sound, but whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by Zane throwing his knife in the air, the blade spinning wildly. At first, I think that he has disregarded my “no stabbing” rule and is going to kill Reece right then and there.
But the dagger embeds itself into the chest of a man creeping toward us.
He falls forward instantly, dead.
“Fuck!” someone curses, and then four more POP members materialize in front of us, all brandishing knives.
Something dark and malevolent wakes inside me, blinking its eyes open and yawning.
“You don’t want to do that,” I tell them, already lowering to a defensive crouch.
“Just give us the lamb,” one of the POP members snarls. Then he lunges at me, swiping with his blade. I stealthily jump to the side with an, admittedly, deranged chuckle.
“You don’t know how to use that blade, do you?” I taunt.
With a roar of unfettered rage, the man charges at me again, but this time, I’m easily able to step around him and coil an arm around his neck. He struggles, attempting to free himself, but I simply tighten my grip. When he paws weakly at my arm, his grime-covered fingernails digging into my flesh, the pain only bolsters me.
He falls forward, unconscious, a second later.
“Anyone else?” I ask cockily, kicking at the man on the ground. His mask comes askew, and I try to deduce whether I recognize him. He doesn’t look familiar, but that’s not necessarily surprising. The only face I actively pay attention to is Ellie’s.
“Wait! Stop!” Ellie, who has been standing behind Beckett, steps forward, her face pale.
Everyone stops.
Instantly.
Without hesitation.
Without complaint.
What the fuck?
I toss Zane, who’s closest to me, a wide-eyed look, but he simply shrugs in response. I notice, somewhat belatedly, that he had grabbed his knife out of the man’s chest and must’ve used it to slash the throat of a different POP member. She lies on the ground, her mask beside her, graying hair cascading in all directions, the strands stained with red.
I didn’t even hear him commit the murder.
Sneaky bastard. Always trying to one-up me.
Ellie continues to speak, her voice trembling slightly, though she keeps her chin hefted in the air imperiously. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Whispers ripple among the POP members still standing with us in the hall. I count four, meaning more must have arrived, drawn to the noise.
Why aren’t they attacking?
Why are they just standing there, staring at Ellie?
An ominous silence stretches through the hallway, growing teeth and claws that nip and slash at me.
“Just…just back away,” Ellie continues.
One of the POP members takes a step forward. “Goddess?—”
Wrong fucking move, buddy.
Quick as a blink, Zane is across the hall, his knife jammed into the vulnerable throat of the cult member. He sputters, blood dribbling from underneath his mask, then he slides forward, dead. Beckett moves behind a second POP member, wrapping an arm around his neck, the way I did earlier. Trusting my brothers to handle themselves, I focus on the last two.
