Page 48 of The Ghost

“What key?” I feigned ignorance.

“The key you’ve been carrying around in your shoulder since you were seventeen years old,” Mr. Ashcroft said. “And I don’t see why we would need to kill you. I would much prefer to have you on our side if you could just understand the importance of what we’re doing.”

“I do understand,” I lied.

“She’s full of crap,” Ryan declared. “She’ll never join us. She’s only going to say what you want to hear.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I argued.

“Sure you would, babe,” he sneered, walking out of sight to grab something from across the room.

I watched him as far as I could, still pretending to be tied to the chair. There was some kind of shelf or counter that held metal implements on it. A glint of sunlight flashed across the blade of a scalpel, mirrored in his eyes as he brought it back to me.

I very nearly made my move right then, but instead of going for my throat, he pulled back my shirt to expose my right shoulder. It was too good to watch the reality of the situation sink in. There were two tight, black stitches sealing a tiny surgical wound, but their import was obvious.

“What’s this?” Ryan demanded, pointing the scalpel at my flesh.

“Oh, was that the key?” I asked, battling my eyelashes like some airheaded blonde.

Ryan hauled back, prepared to slap me. Rage lit his face, making me wonder why I’d ever found him attractive. I kicked the chair out from under me, launching myself at my ex-boyfriend before he had a chance to react.

His gaze changed from one of frustration to one of shock, and he barely managed to get the scalpel up to protect his face before I struck him. I pulled my fist back, following it up with a kick to the gut. What he had on me in terms of pure muscle, I made up for with speed. He couldn’t stop me if he couldn’t keep up.

I spun around, grabbed the chair from where it had fallen, and pounced. He was fighting a losing battle, armed with only a tiny implement while I had a battering ram. I had expected Mr. Ashcroft to join the fight, but it turned out I’d misjudged him again. Instead of coming to Ryan’s aid, he hurried from the room. Not running, but moving with purpose, he left Ryan alone to face the onslaught that I was bringing. So much for strength and honor. I was beginning to realize that Mr. Ashcroft had none of the qualities that I’d attributed to him over the years.

Ryan seemed upset that his mentor had left as well. Reaching out a hand toward Mr. Ashcroft’s retreating back, he cried out. But then I hit him with the chair, and he stumbled back. Not quite falling flat, he tossed the scalpel away so that he could better defend himself.

I launched the chair at him, doing my best to aim for his head. He ducked, putting his arms in front of his face to ward off the flying object. He was quick to recover, rushing me as soon as the danger passed.

I scooted back, slipping away as he attempted to grab me. He went for his weapon, but I landed a kick right at his hip, crippling the hand he was trying to use to remove the gun. With a yelp of pain, he spun back, cursing me and all of my ancestors.

I couldn’t allow my momentum to falter. Jumping on top of him, I wrapped my legs around his waist and brought my elbow down on his nose. Blood squirted warm and wet against my chest. Ryan dropped to his knees, falling on top of me as we struggled for dominance.

I felt the cold tile connect with my shoulder blades, his body pinning me to the floor. Without missing a beat, I twisted my hips, rolling us both to the left. I came out on top, reaching for the scalpel.

Ryan wrapped a hand around my wrist, struggling to disarm me even as I brought the blade down. I could see victory staring me in the face. All I had to do was pour my heart and soul into the battle and I would emerge the winner.

But he had a few tricks left up his sleeve. He punched my shoulder right where the implant had been, sending sparks of pain racing through my chest. I cried out, stabbing down but missing him entirely.

He rolled us over again, coming to a stop when we hit the base of the window. If there was anyone outside, they would have seen us locked into a life-or-death battle. I wished desperately for that sniper who could have ended the fight with a single shot. If only Dark Sparrow was out there, watching the compound. But I was alone and at Ryan’s mercy. It was up to me to find a way to dislodge him and gain the upper hand again.

“I could have been the leader of New Dawn,” Ryan growled, “if it wasn’t for your stupid ass.”

I looked up at him from below, both my hands pinned to the floor. I tried working my hips again, but he was aware of the trick. He planted his bulk firmly on top of me, giving me no wiggle room. But even though he had incapacitated me, he wasn’t able to let up for a minute to grab his gun. He would have to come up with another strategy or risk allowing me an opening that could lead to his death.

“How’s that?” I demanded, looking to my left and to my right in search of another weapon.

“You just wouldn’t play ball,” Ryan spat. “If you’d just gotten on board, we could have ruled the world together.”

“You’re crazy,” I snapped, twisting my left hand free and grabbing his thigh.

I couldn’t reach into his pants for the gun, but I managed to find the trigger beneath the fabric. Betting that it was already cocked and ready to go, I fired, sending a bullet rocketing into his knee.

He screamed, rolling away to put pressure on the wound. The instant he let up, I attacked again, slashing his throat. The blade went deep, slicing through skin and muscle, opening a trench beneath his chin that would never heal.

His eyes went wide, and his fingers clawed at the wound. His body twitched, blood squirting from the severed artery, coating the pristine white walls. I scooted away, my shoes squeaking on the tiled floor. It was a horrific sight, one that I wished I could have avoided. As angry as I was, Ryan still held a place in my heart. That he’d forced me to slaughter him was agony enough, but it brought up all the feelings of abandonment that I’d thought I had put behind me.

“Dammit!” I shouted, watching the last throes of panic wash through him before he finally lay still.