The air chills, laden with irreconcilable secrets. Years worth of lies. The deceit meant to protect a child that instead doomed him to solitude. For Axel—his swirling amber orbs glistening with unshed moisture—the unbearable weight of that choice lies heavy.
His open posture, slack face and outstretched hands plead for his brother to show mercy. I must be naïve for thinking he may just get it.
But I’m not prepared for Gunnar to draw back his arm then snap his blade out faster than any of us can intercept. The hunting knife slashes through the air at speed, hissing straight past me to find its fleshy target.
THUD.
Bile creeps up my throat at the soft squelch of metal carving flesh. Axel recoils, a scream tearing from his throat as the blade lodges in his shoulder. His knees crack against the dusty floor as he’s carried down in a heap.
“Axel!” I shift to intervene.
A gunshot cracks behind me, making me freeze when the room’s tension detonates. Gunnar seems to anticipate the response, folding himself in half to duck before propelling himself forward to avoid the incoming shot.
Warner charges faster than I’ve ever seen him move, colliding hard with The Hunter to send them both hurtling downward. The men grapple in a heap of muscle, trading fists and attempting to overpower the other.
“Help Axel,” I yell at Hyland.
“Ember! No!”
He can’t stop me from diving into the mix in an effort to separate Warner and Gunnar. Trying to grab hold of Gunnar is like wrestling a coiled viper, bucking and twisting with incredible skill. He’s so fast, locking his arms around Warner’s neck to catch him in a chokehold.
I leap onto his back, driving a fist into the side of his head. The Hunter barely even flinches. I’ve managed to clock him in the nose when his head slams back to collide with mine, causing stars to burst behind my eyes.
My body goes limp, toppling off Gunnar’s back to land in a heap. I breathe through the pain, the cobwebbed ceiling a warbling riot high above me for several stomach-turning seconds.
CRACK.
Another gunshot blasts my eardrums. The explosion precedes a loud thud. I watch Gunnar catapult backwards onto the floor, freeing Warner. To my right, a Sabre-issued pistol is clutched in a badly trembling, blood-slick hand.
Axel barely stands upright, the knife now removed his shoulder, leaving a ragged, bloody mess behind. He pays the wound no attention while keeping the gun cocked straight ahead.
“Are you okay?” His crazed eyes dart to me.
Gasping, I wrench myself upright on the floor. “You just shot your brother!”
“Bulletproof vest,” a voice wheezes.
The Hunter is spreadeagled, conscious and biting back his own agonised groan. I watch Axel limp forward, the barrel of his gun pointed at his twin, ensuring he doesn’t launch a fresh attack.
“Next bullet goes in your forehead,” Axel warns in a tight voice. “Do not move.”
“Congrats, brother.” Gunnar groans in pain. “Nice aim.”
“I didn’t want to kill you.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
“A fool who can end your life in a heartbeat,” he retorts. “Now we have a job for you to do, and it’s urgent. Are you going to behave and negotiate like a sane human being?”
Tugging at his damaged bulletproof vest, Gunnar casts a critical eye around the room. Beyond Axel, Raye and Spyder who still have weapons directed at him, Hyland looks like he’s itching to break his skull, and even Blaine appears ready to call this whole thing off.
“You have nothing that I want,” Gunnar scoffs.
“Me.”
Axel’s offer causes multiple shouts to break out. I’ve barely found my feet with Warner’s help, yet I’m ready to smack the moron myself, even if he is keeping our assailant at bay.
“Stop!” I hurl at Axel.
