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“Diana, run. Mal’s possessed again!” he shouted.
I knew Mal wasn’t in his right mind. The look on his face was one of shock and disgust… but was it toward me, or what he was trying to do? Did Satan magically influence him, or had Mal been working with him the whole time?
Mal tried to plunge the knife in my chest, so I pushed him back with my magic until he slammed into the wall behind him. He had snapped out of it the time he tried to strangle me to death. Hopefully, he could do it again.
He sped toward me in a flash and pushed me onto the ground. Straddling me to pin me in place, he stared down at me. I couldn’t tell if his cold stare was from his hatred of me, or of what he was trying to do. Was the set of his jaw one of determination, or resistance? I couldn’t buck him off or move in time to dodge the next blow. He plunged the blade in my heart and twisted it a few times before pulling it out.
Everything that happened next felt like it was happening to someone else. I could feel my warm blood coat my skin, trickling down past my collarbone onto my neck and over my stomach. My sweatshirt stuck to me as it became saturated with blood. At first the pain was jarring, the worst I had ever experienced in my life. I became numb to everything as the seconds ticked on, like I was disassociating from my body, floating above it.
Everyone was silent. Mal peered down at me with wide, bloodshot eyes, astounded by what he’d done. He dropped the knife, and I could hear it clatter on the floor.
Desmond threw him into the airline kiosk. Then he kneeled down and cradled me in his arms, tears from his glowing peridot eyes dripping onto my face. The blood from my sweatshirt dyed his white t-shirt bright red. My vision clouded, my body convulsing from shock. Bash knelt next to me and ripped my sweatshirt off. He took his shirt off to press it against my wound, applying pressure to try and staunch the bleeding. I didn’t know a lot about medical science, but I took Anatomy and Physiology I, and watched enoughGrey’s Anatomyto know that his efforts wouldn’t save me. I was going to die.
“Diana, this is my fault, I’m sorry,” Bash sobbed. “Please, Birdie, don’t fly away.”
I was starting to slip into a cold, dark abyss. Ares sat on his heels next to Desmond, holding my hand, but I could barely feel his warm hand around mine.
I saw his mouth move, but his voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you, Little Goddess.”
I looked up at the three faces above me. All of my men were here except Azazel.
Azazel. I need to say goodbye.
I thought of Azazel’s cabin in the woods and the warm cozy fire. The bright rainbow petals of the flowers we walked through as the cannons roared in the distance. The sly, determined set of his face right before he kissed me. Those images he showed me would never come to pass. I wanted to fly with him through the clouds and snuggle as we read a book together.
I felt myself vibrate. The molecules in my body thrummed and sizzled. Death was the strangest feeling, like disintegrating into an unknown void. I tried to lift my hand in front of my face, but saw nothing. Blackness closed in around me as the room around me blurred. I took one last labored breath, and everything went black.
