Page 379 of Primal

Wesley reaches Rachel. Drops to a crouch. His fingers press to her throat.

He looks back, shakes his head.

Payton makes a sound. Quiet, broken. Like the wind got knocked out of her.

A shape rises behind Wesley.

Black robes. Blade gleaming.

“Behind—”

Payton screams. “Wesley!”

He turns—

The knife flashes—one slash, so fast I almost miss it.

Wesley spins toward us—a red gash across his throat. Jaw slack. Blinking. His hand lifts, fingers brushing the wound.

His knees hit the dirt.

Looming over him—Derek. Mask gone, his face a ruin of blood and fury. He’s smiling.

Smiling.

“Death comes for us all. Even you, Grim.”

“Payton. Give me the gun.”

But she’s already moving. Aiming.

And here I am. Too weak to even lift a finger as Wesley chokes on his own blood.

Fuck. I lurch after her.

Brass rains around her as she fires.

Five shots.

Three go wide.

One grazes Derek’s arm—the knife drops.

The last punches into his ribs. He jolts. Slumps against the iron gates.

Payton sways, chest heaving, the gun wavering in her grip.

click.

click.

Empty.

Derek mouths something.

The ringing. His laugh. I can’t hear the difference.

She drops the Glock. Grabs the knife off the ground. The blade glints—bloody, bright.