Page 66 of Shai

I stumbled drunkenly up the path toward the two men guarding the front entrance, dumbfounded as they took one look at me and simply moved aside to allow me entrance. What the fuck! They should have been shoving a gun in my face, or at the very least radioing Shai to notify him of my presence, especially seeing as I still had the gun in my hand.

As they didn’t try and take if off me, I kept hold of it, muscle memory taking me straight to the room where the men tended to congregate, and where I was most likely to find Shai. Any men I passed moved out of my way, just as the guards had done. Something wasn’t right. What was I missing here?

The room was busier than usual when I reached it. It felt strangely alien, yet achingly familiar at the same time. I leaned against the door jamb, fighting a wave of dizziness as I scanned the room until I found the man I was looking for. There. Shirtless as always, his muscles flexing as he raised an arm to illustrate a point to Taylor.

Taylor didn’t look much better than he had on the bridge the last time I’d seen him, but then that hadn’t been that long ago, had it? It might seem like an age, but it had been what? One day? Two at most if my period of unconsciousness had lasted longer than I’d thought.

The normality of the scene didn’t sit right with me. Not when I’d been through hell. It was that that had me lifting the gun as I called Shai’s name. Heads turned my way, their expressions ranging from shock to surprise. All except for Shai. His was noticeably blank as he stared at me across the expanse of the room. Noticing the gun, Wyatt started to make his way toward me, Shai’s voice ringing out across the room as sharp as a whipcrack. “No! Leave him.”

I turned the gun Shai’s way. I could shoot him. The knowledge was heady. Imagine that. Imagine if I took down the two most powerful men in the city, all in the space of a few hours. Little Elijah Page—the petty crook who ended the feud to end all feuds. How funny would that be? My name would be forever on everybody’s lips. My finger twitched and I imagined squeezing the trigger. I’d already done it once today. It was easy. I pictured the bloom of red that would appear, the notion not as pleasant as I’d expected it to be, something tightening painfully in my chest.

Shai seemed oblivious to the gun pointed at his chest as he crossed the

room in that languid, casual way I was so used to seeing. He kept coming until the gun barrel was pressed so tightly against his chest that it left an indentation in his skin. He held himself there, the seconds ticking slowly by, as if he wanted to make it absolutely clear that he was giving me all the time in the world to pull the trigger. I didn’t. I couldn’t. It would have been easier to turn the gun on myself.

Finally, Shai stepped back and held a hand out for the gun. My

hesitation lasted no longer than a second, and I was almost glad to get rid of it as I transferred the blood-streaked metal from my hand to his. He handed it back to Taylor before focusing on me, the look in his eyes searching. “Did you do it?”

I frowned, trying to drag the fractured remnants of my mind together

enough to understand what he was asking. “Did I do what?”

“Kill McIntyre?”

The question didn’t make sense. How could he know? There was no

way the news could have traveled that fast. “I need Void. Have you got any?”

“Answer the question first.”

Shai never changed. It was like the water thing all over again, the

thought making me smile for some reason. “Yes. I killed McIntyre.” The words didn’t feel like enough. They were too basic in their simplicity to encompass the full spectrum of emotions that that knowledge brought.

A wide smile dawned on Shai’s face, a glow of pride starting in my

chest that I’d pleased him so much. “And you’re sure?”

Was I? “He looked pretty dead. He wasn’t breathing.” Shai nodded.

That strange sense of wrongness hit me once again. Why wasn’t he

asking more questions? Why wasn’t he asking how I did it? And why wasn’t he surprised? In fact, after my initial entrance into the room there’d been little reaction from anyone, which now I came to think about it might have had more to do with my physical appearance. It was almost like they’d been waiting for my arrival. Was that why the guards had let me in?

Strong fingers gripped my chin, tilting my head first to one side, and then the other as his gaze roved over my face. “You’re a mess, Elijah.”

“He beat me. They all did.”

He turned my head back to center, his brown eyes burning with a fierce light as they bored into mine. “That will be the last time anyone beats you.”

Would it? I guessed it would be. McIntyre wasn’t around to give the order, and physical violence had never been a factor in Shai’s compound, unless you counted his penchant for rough foreplay. Shai’s questing hands dropped to my left arm, pushing the blood-soaked sleeve of my hoodie back and unwinding the bandage to reveal the ragged wound. I kept my gaze fixed on him, not wanting to look at it, not wanting to relive the memory of breaking the stitches and pushing my fingers into the wound. “We’ll get Callaghan to sort this out.”

I sagged against him, his arm winding around my waist to hold me up. It felt good. Like I was finally safe.

“Why are you wet?”

“Sniper. River. Only way of escaping without getting shot.” I was too damn tired to manage full sentences anymore.