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Alec’s wide green eyes held that same fierce animosity as Nic’s did. As all of theirs did.
“Alec. It’s the Mist!” I shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. The muscles in the arm beneath my hand grew less tense. “It’s the Mist making you think these things.”
His murky eyes flashed as he took me in, a blink of recognition dawning on his roughened features. I hardly noticed how my scarred hand moved to touch the exposed skin of his chest.
I pleaded, “Stay with me,” over and over again until I felt his muscles gradually relax, his body swaying unsteadily on his feet.
“Ki?”
I nodded. Just as with Jude, his eyes were softening, the pupils returning to their normal size. “I— I don’t know what—”
“It’s okay,” I rushed to say, glancing to where Patrick and Jake were facing off, circling one another like dueling predators.
Jake darted from the left, barreling into Patrick. Isiah lingered off to the side, motionless, eyes closed, a statue of calm. Though that had to be a lie, as his lips were moving frantically, likely uttering some misbegotten prayer beneath his breath. He didn’t appear to be a threat.
Releasing both a stunned Jude and Alec, I shot out like an arrow, my sights set on Patrick. I had to get him away from Jake, who could slaughter him with ease.
Diving into the pearly abyss, I tumbled along with the fighting pair, Patrick somehow scrambling atop Jake’s chest, his glinting blade poised directly over his friend’s beating heart. He’d never moved so quickly in training, and his skilled movements surprised me.
“NO!” I grabbed the hand holding the dagger. It took considerable effort to hold his hand steady as I spoke. “You need to let go, Patrick. This is some sort of trick the Mist plays on you.”
Turning brothers against one another. Killing them.
I pinched his chin with my exposed fingers, the black in my scars seeming to glow in the low light. Patrick’s pale eyes brightened, his hand trembling as his fingers relaxed their hold. The dagger tumbled to the dirt, lost in the pool of white.
Before Jake could attack, I swiveled to him, grasping his hand and clutching it tightly.
“What— What did I do?” Jake stumbled back, jerking away from me as he fell to his knees. “I-I wanted to kill—”
“It wasn’t you,” I interrupted, already hoisting myself up, shoving my hand deep into my pocket, hoping to hide the evidence of my truth. Thankfully, he was too dazed by his own actions to notice.
They would have no doubt murdered one another until only one man stood. Jude had been right; the Mist itself was our enemy.
“Can’t you all see? It’s inside of us! It wants us to let it out. Only then can we be free of the sickness!”
Nic.I’d forgotten about him.
“We need to cut it out!” Nic screeched wildly, his head swiveling back and forth among the stunned recruits. “It’s the only way!”
Nic lifted his blade to his throat.
Without hesitation, I bolted for Nic, my new friend just fifteen feet away. All the blood rushed to my ears, drowning out the cries of protest, the others shouting for him to put down the blade.
“Nic!” Jake screamed, his voice hoarse. “Stop!”
I was nearly on him now. All I had to do was reach out and—
With one swift motion, Nic sliced through the thin skin of his throat, blood instantly bubbling to the surface.
“NO!” I howled, grasping his arms as he collapsed to his knees, his youthful eyes full of terror as fresh blood gushed from his fatal wound. He choked on it, a sickening gurgling sound escaping his red lips.
Within seconds, the noise stopped, and Nic was no longer choking on his blood.
He was dead.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jude
