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“Not really.” The claws on her useless hand had shifted back to normal, leaving her with only one set. “I’m done talking to you.”
“Good.” I lifted the sword and called on my vampire speed, bursting forward with the blade level. It slid through her neck as though she were made of paper and pinned her to the tree behind her.
Mercy’s body thrashed, and she swatted at me with her claws, slicing into the arm of my jacket and through to the skin beneath.
“Just die,” I snarled.
“…ou…irst…” she burbled, blood pouring from her lips.
Pop.
I didn’t see the gun because it was still in my holster, but I hadn’t bothered with the safety and I’d left it with a bullet at the ready. All she’d had to do was angle the gun inward and pull the trigger.
Like the claw wounds on my chest, I didn’t feel the bullet right away. I took two steps backwards, and her fingers fell away from the gun.
Even with a sword jammed through her neck, Mercy stared right at me and smiled.
I wanted to watch her die.
Sinking to the ground, I propped myself against the nearest tree just as the searing agony from the new silver bullet joined in chorus with the one before it. I needed to get the bullets out. Needed to get inside to protect myself from the sunrise that would be coming all too soon.
She stared at me, and I waited.
As my vision started to turn fuzzy and black, a new light came. Not a light calling me up to heaven, but the blue-white shimmer of the dead. All around us the ghosts of Buck Syler’s victims rose, dozens upon dozens. I couldn’t make out their faces, only the distorted female shapes. They grouped together, surrounding Mercy and staring down at me.
Ghosts can’t speak, so they made their silent commentary, and I was too out of it to wonder what they thought of this whole scene.
I looked past them and kept both eyes on Mercy. She seemed oblivious to the spirits closing in around her. I waited until the life was blotted out from her eyes and the last rattle of breath escaped her lungs.
She didn’t join them.
Once I was sure she was gone for good, I closed my eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The best indicator I wasn’t dead was the insane amount of pain that woke me up.
“Augh,” I shrieked, swatting at the hands on me.
“I told you we should have waited until she was awake,” Holden’s cool voice cut in. “Idiots.”
“I understand, but if we’d waited that long, she’d be dead.” Desmond was standing closer to me, his words coming through clearer.
“You boys. Nothing but arguments. If you aren’t going to help, you must both leave. Vous comprenez?” This from the familiar accent of Grandmere. I could have cried, either because I now knew for sure she was alive, or because this meant I was actually dead.
“Oui,” Holden spat back in reply.
“Fine,” Desmond answered.
They were still bickering, so chances were good I hadn’t gone to heaven.
“Uuuuuugh.”
“Don’t move, bebe, this will hurt quite a lot indeed.” Grandmere pushed me back gently, and my head thumped against something hard and wooden.
I didn’t have much time to think of what it might be because a moment later she jammed her fingers into the soft tissue below my rib cage. I scrambled, reaching out to take hold of whatever was closest. Desmond grabbed my hand, and even though I squeezed hard enough to hear his knuckles pop, he didn’t pull away.
The sound I belatedly recognized as my own screaming faded away, leaving only my rasping breaths in its place.
