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I watched Desmond trail behind Genie and held my breath for a moment. I’d been so concerned with what might happen to my sister if I died, I hadn’t taken time to consider what I would do if something happened to them. Much of my adult life had involved throwing myself from one dangerous situation to another, usually with no respect for my own wellbeing. Protecting the people I loved tended to rank higher than my own personal safety.
But what would I do if something happened to Genie? I’d brought her here because I thought it would be safe, and now I didn’t know if I could protect her. This wasn’t the kind of situation I could have planned a contingency for.
And Desmond.
What would I do if something happened to Desmond?
My heart seized at the very notion of it, and my mind got hazy, like imagining losing Des was incomprehensible. Which it was. Would I lie down and die, letting a broken heart pull me under?
No. If I hadn’t died yet, a broken heart wouldn’t be what killed me.
But my life would lose all meaning. It would become a shadow existence without him, I was sure of that.
“Be careful, baby.” I said it mostly to myself, but he paused in the middle of the path and looked back over his shoulder to me. His expression was serious, but softened when I offered him another smile.
I’d hoped by traveling through the park we could avoid the messes littering the streets and bypass most of the risen. Trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for how difficult it would be to navigate the natural maze of the park without light to guide our way. And we couldn’t rely on flashlights in case someone was waiting in the foliage.
At some point since we’d moved into the park, both Des and Genie had drawn their weapons in preparation for anything that might hop out at us. I was grateful for their vigilance, but at the same time I was scared they might get trigger happy if a squirrel popped out, and give our location away with a poorly timed gunshot.
I pulled my sword from its sheath and moved to the front of our small group, positioning Genie between Desmond and me. The blade glinted orange from the hazy glow in the sky, and it was a shift in the reflection that drew my attention up.
One minute I was on my feet and the next I was flat on my back with two hundred pounds of writhing man on top of me. Though I hadn’t seen the guy who hit me, the smell of him announced his maleness, as did the bristle of his beard against my throat. But his scent also told me he was alive and not one of the risen, so I didn’t quite know what to make of my predicament. I just knew I couldn’t slaughter the dude outright.
“He’s alive,” I shouted, hoping to keep the others from responding rashly.
“Not for long,” Desmond growled, seizing my attacker by his shoulders and yanking him off me.
I wasted no time getting back to my feet and lifting my sword, placing the tip of the blade against the man’s exposed throat while Desmond held him still.
Given the unimpressed sneer the guy leveled me with in spite of my threat, I doubted he was a simple mugger.
“Don’t you know it’s not safe to play outside after dark?” he asked, smirking as if he weren’t in any danger whatsoever.
“Who are you?” I brought the blade higher, resting it against his Adam’s apple.
“Name’s Jock. Want to tell your buddy to let up a bit? My arm is starting to cramp.”
“You attacked my fiancée, so no, I don’t think I’ll be letting up any time soon.” Desmond must have tightened his grip because Jock winced.
“Hey,” Jock grunted. “I didn’t know she was your old lady.”
I nodded towards Genie, who was hanging back a few feet, the gun in her hands trembling. “Finger off the trigger, hon.” She responded immediately, and even in the darkness I could see her cheeks flush from embarrassment. “You getting a magic vibe off this guy?”
I could tell a vampire’s power with ease, but judging someone’s magic ability wasn’t in my wheelhouse. I needed a witch for that, and thankfully I’d brought one with me.
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “He’s got some residual stink on him, but I don’t think the power is his.” A faint red glow shimmered around her fingertips, and I worried about the mix of magic and guns, but I had to assume she would be careful. I didn’t want to draw any further attention to her inexperience.
Since I had no immediate intention of cutting off Jock’s head—which was a solution I’d been resorting to with others a little too often over the last week—I lowered my sword. Desmond gave me a questioning look, plainly asking if he should let the guy go. I gave a slight shake of my head. I might not want to kill the dude, but I also wasn’t ready to send him on his merry way.
Killing him might not be on my agenda for the night, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t rough him up for answers.
As Jock’s smile edged towards cocky, I lifted one foot. With speed he clearly wasn’t expecting, I kicked out, making contact with his knee. The precise angle I hit him at wouldn’t break any bones, but he would be hurting too much to notice the difference.
Jock shrieked and went limp in Desmond’s arms.
“Bitch.”
I clucked my tongue. “Simmer down. It’s dislocated, not broken.”
