“That’s rather the point.”
“What about Warner?” My gaze homes in on his weapon.
Gunnar laughs, a skin-crawling sound of pure delight. “You set me up rather nicely to slip away from them and follow you. It was awfully shortsighted of you to put so much trust in me.”
Fingers twitching, I long to tap the piece still tucked in my ear to call for help. On our current system, we have to press the device to speak, keeping communication lines clear. Our backup is likely with Warner by now, unaware we’re in deep shit.
I hear Ember shift behind me, stepping closer to us. Gunnar fires off a warning shot that blasts my ears, the bullet lodging itself in the wall just to our left.
“Don’t move.”
“You’re seriously going to hand us over?” Ember glares daggers at my twin. “You saw that child, Gunnar. He was nearly starved to death. Are you going to help the monsters who hurt him?”
“Those monsters sign my paycheck, and I get to walk away. I’m not helping anyone but myself.” Gunnar juts his chin towards me. “A lesson this one taught me long ago.”
“It isn’t too late—” I begin.
“It’s eighteen years too late!”
The next shot hits directly in front of me, mere inches from our feet. Ember sucks in a breath while I try to implore my brother with wide, begging eyes.
“You can stop this. Help us bring down Madden and Gael.”
“Why do you think I care?” He hurls a laugh.
“Because I saw your face when we discovered that poor kid,” I continue knowingly. “I saw the pain and the loneliness. I saw the ghosts that haunt you.”
“Enough.”
“What happened, Gunnar? Who hurt you?”
“I said enough!”
“You’ve been that child,” I press on, noting the way his hands shake wildly. “You were lost and alone. Begging for a home. Hurt, terrified. Hungry. You know how that feels.”
Just as the gun wavers, he looks ready to relent. Gunnar clamps his eyes shut and snarls, teeth bared in a pained scowl. I’ve lifted my finger to hit the earpiece when he re-trains the pistol on me, eyes flinging open and burning bright.
“I do,” he sneers. “Because of you.”
In all my years of service, I’ve often felt death’s cold breath. Far more times than I can count. Each encounter lessens the impact when it comes back around until the fear feels practically normal.
But at the sound of his gun firing, a new level of fear ignites and races through every single part of me. It should happen in a flash. A mere heartbeat. In reality, it’s agonisingly slow. So slow I can feel my life slipping between my fingers.
Then… pain.
The kind of pain that leaves no room for thought or reason tears through me at close range, hitting beneath the vest to penetrate my lower abdomen. Ember’s scream mirrors my own. She seizes hold of me as the bullet rips a hole in my body.
It feels like being punched by a sledgehammer. Wet, scalding heat pours from my abdomen like molten metal is tearing into my flesh and chewing it up. When I look down and see how much blood I’m losing, my knees fail me.
Time stutters, carrying my consciousness in disjointed flashes. Hitting the floor. Nerves wailing. Broken glass slicing my intestines up then spitting them back out the hole that’s been carved in me by a laser point. Warmth gushing between my fingers.
Blood.
Everywhere… hot, sticky, endlessly pouring from me.
All I can do is peer up at the white spots forming above me, causing my vision to blur at the edges. Then a face. Pale and horrified. Eyes glistening. Tears splashing my cheeks. Lips moving to form words that I can’t focus on.
Ember.
