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No going back now.
I unleash a spray of bullets, some ricocheting off the walls and floor while others hit the guards. It kind of feels like power washing—if power washing were anextremelygrisly ordeal. I ignore how horrible it feels to do this while I remind myself that I’m clearing a path for my friends, that the Diavolos are bad people.
I stop firing when the guards scatter, some going to hide behind storage crates while others lie dead in front of the door. I hold my breath as I wait to hear from Corvus, his comm having gone dead a few minutes ago.
Then I hear him.
“What the fuck was all that noise, Penn?”
“They were lining up to take you out,” I mutter. “I had to do something.”
“Well, we’re almost to the hangar and we’ve got at least a dozen more guards on our heels,” he says. “You ready for a fight?”
“Have you got Layla?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “And I think she’s also ready to kick some ass.”
I grin, my heart pounding in my throat.
“See you in a few.”
I pick up the gun dropped by one of the guards and I head to the hatch, taking up a position just at the edge. I keep my gaze leveled at the door, waiting for the others to come out. A light over it flashes green, the door slides open…
…and there she is.
Layla.
For a moment, everything else disappears, and all I see is my best friend. She looks the same, but also completely different. Her dark, curly hair is messy, she’s not nearly as put together as usual, and she has shadowy circles under her eyes. Layla has always been vibrant, coiffed, and is a super snappy dresser, so this is a change.
Plus, she’s pregnant.Verypregnant. Which is weird as fuck, given that she wasn’t pregnant at all the last time I saw her.
I see it in her eyes the moment she catches sight of me, but we’re interrupted a split second later by gunshots. Not at me or her—at Corvus.
And to my dismay, they hit.
It takes me a second to process as he staggers, sound coming back slowly. But he’s definitely been shot, falling to his knees.
“Run!” he shouts.
Layla does just that, sprinting faster than a pregnant lady should. I guess, anyway. I haven’t known a lot of pregnant women quite as intimidating as Layla. I shift into action, sweeping the room for whoever shot Corvus.
I find my mark. I shoot. I hit.
Layla is running toward me, then passing me to get into the shuttle. I want to give her a hug, but there’s no time—not when Corvus is falling behind. He meets my eyes, and I see him give me permission to leave without him as Zaire boards after Layla.
But time is still stretching out, bending in strange ways. And I’m thinking about how Corvus agreed to help me, even when he knew it could get him killed.
Did he ask for amnesty from the Ganivets for himself…or did he do all this for me?
I can’t tell.
And it would be a damn shame if he died without me ever finding out where else he might be pierced.
“Go!” he shouts. But I’m already taking a step off of the docking ramp, even as Zaire powers up the ship’s thrusters. Corvus’ eyes flash with silvery lights as I get closer to him, his hair falling across his eyes. “Look out!”
I dive to my right as he raises the weapon in his hand, firing over my shoulder at someone just behind me. I’m still on my feet, though, and I keep moving toward him. “You’re coming with us!” I yell, grabbing him by the hand.
“Fuck, that hurts,” he hisses when I haul him to his feet.
