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“Give me the knife, Eugen—holy shit! Greer! Is that Greer? Did you stab her, you fucking psycho?”
I felt Eugenia’s weight leave my aching hips as Jace hovered over my body, searching in the darkness for any blood, any wounds. I finally found my voice.
“Jace, I’m fine.” I pulled my knees under me and rotated, so I was sitting. On someone’s grave.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, burying my face into his white T-shirt. “I just hit my arms on this curb, and they hurt.”
“Shhh.” He held my forearms while rubbing his thumbs over the marks extending down the bone.
“Eugenia killed Linus and Danny. She was going to kill me.”
“We need to get out of—hu!”
The sharp sound that spilled from Jace’s throat reminded me of the bodybuilders who took turns lifting the heaviest weights at my gym back in Shreveport. Part shock. Part determination.
“Jace!” I scrambled out from underneath him as he went down on all fours. Eugenia stood behind his back, her knife held dramatically over her head. How could we be so stupid?
“You might want to look away, darling,” she said. “I wasn’t planning on ending Jace Blackwell’s life, only yours, but now I have to do you both, and I don’t want you to spend your last few minutes on this earth overwrought.”
I expected Jace to move, crawl away, turn and fight, but he did none of those things. Chest heaving, blood staining the back of his shirt, he froze as Eugenia plunged the knife into his back a second time.
I screamed, full-throated, full-voiced, the fear and utter anguish of the moment pushing me toward chaos. Then, I charged. I don’t know why she wasn’t expecting it, but it’s like she never saw me coming, entranced by the bloody knife in her hand. I hit her hard as Jace’s body went from kneeling to flat on the ground. I couldn’t tackle her…she was too tall and wiry, but with my arms around hers, I backed her against the curb of the grave behind her and pushed until we both went down.
Eugenia swung her knife wildly at her side until I turned my full body weight onto her arm, immobilizing it and allowing me to pry it from her hands. Instead of stabbing her back, I took off with the knife, darting between graves until I found a headstone big enough. I picked up a rock, held the knife against the headstone, and beat at it, again and again, until the handle cracked and slid off the back. Then I threw the dulled blade into the darkness and turned around, prepared for a physical fight with Eugenia. But she was gone.
