Page 107 of Where Angels Fall

He steps into my space, reaching for me with his gigantic hands, and my knuckles ache as I squeeze the handle of the knife with every ounce of strength I have.

When his hand grips my hip, I scream. The sound rips out of my chest, raw and feral. I lunge forward, ignoring the scream of agony in my leg, and drive the knife upward with everything I have.

The sound of the knife sinking into his neck is final.

Hot blood explodes across my hand, my chest, my mouth. Blood coats my tongue, spraying over my face, metallic and warm.

His blank eyes go wide in shock.

I yank the blade free and plunge it in again. This time deeper.

He makes a choking, wet sound as he stumbles back, hands clawing at his throat. Blood pours between his fingers, coating the concrete at our feet. I refuse to take my eyes off him.

A thud sounds as he drops to his knees, gasping and drowning in red. His gaze locks on mine as he bleeds out, and I smile. A small, victorious curve of my lips as I fall back against the wall. The pain in my leg faded with the adrenaline coursing through my body.

And understanding dawns on me. Ash’s killing instinct. It isn’t madness or cruelty. It’s clarity. It’s knowing that someone who meant to hurt you is losing.

It’s control.

The rumble of the motorcycle grows louder in the distance. Footsteps approach fast from the other corridor, and I raise the knife again, ready for whoever is about to round the corner.

Kai appears, chest heaving slightly. His eyes frantically scan me up and down, searching for new wounds. They paused at the smug smirk on my face before slowly dropping to the now very dead man on the floor. He blinks once before bringing his eyes back to me. For a second, he just stares.

Then something like pride flickers across his face.

“I found a way,” he breathes, lifting me easily into his arms. My body protests, but I wrap my arms around his neck anyway.

We move fast.

Down the side corridor, up another ramp slick with water and grime. The air changes as we climb. It’s colder. Fresher. Less suffocating.

I almost sob when I see the faint strip of light ahead. Kai takes the last set of stairs two at a time, boots slamming against the metal. My heart pounds so hard I think it might break through my ribs.

The stairs spill into the underside of a shipping container, its metal walls vibrating with the sound of engines and shouting outside. Kai pushes through a half-open container door, and we burst out into the grey daylight. Rain kisses my face, and the air is sharp with salt. Shipping containers tower around us.

And there...

Across the open stretch of concrete...

Is my Devil.

He stands in front of a dozen of his men, black leather soaked from the rain, gun raised and pointed at Zeke. Zeke stands a few metres away, calm as ever, men fanned out behind him.

The world narrows to only Ash. Only the man who snarls at the enemy. His shoulders are rigid, and his jaw is clenched, blue eyes blazing with something feral and unhinged.

He looks like the devil.

He looks like mine.

“Ash!” I scream. The sound tears out of me.

Kai lowers me instinctively as I wrench myself from his arms. Pain detonates through my leg as I sprint, but it’s a background thought. I can barely feel it. All I feel is him.

Ash’s head snaps toward me. His eyes widen. For a second, I think he’s not real. That I’m hallucinating. That this is my brain’s final mercy before everything goes dark.

“Ash,” I sob.

He runs to me, and the world tilts violently. His arms catch me just before I hit the ground, both of us falling to our knees on the ground.