“Three.” He gasped for air before coughing up blood. “They got me at least three times. I’ve?—”
He cried out, head falling back as he clutched at his stomach where they’d torn through his armor, blood oozing from the wound. Black veins crawled up his throat, darkness swirling in his eyes at such an alarming rate, I froze. “I’ve probably got...a few minutes...at best.”
“Gods,” I breathed, mind racing as I leaned over him, ready to do whatever it took to stop this. “I’m gonna fix this. Just hang on.”
“Don’t you even—” he rasped, grabbing my shirt and preventing me from coming any closer, from sucking the darkness out of his system. Hegrimaced as the veins worked their way under his skin. “Don’t even fucking think about it... She can’t... She can’t lose both of us.”
“Don’t—” My voice broke as I grabbed his hand. “Don’t do this, Micah.”
“Sorry,” he said, blood rolling from his lips down his chin as he grabbed my free hand and placed his dagger in my palm. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
His skin grew cold against mine, blood gushing from his wound too fast. His eyes fluttered closed before he grimaced, his fangs elongating as he cried out. “Fuck. Don’t let me change.”
“Don’t do this,” I begged him, my vision blurring as I held him. “Don’t make me put you down.”
He sagged, chest heaving, and he lifted his eyes to me. “She...”
I watched him, mind latching onto that single word as his voice fell short. “What?”
Air slipped from his lungs, and the dark veins faded as his body sagged in my arms, his grip on my hand where he’d forced his dagger loosening.
“Micah?”
He didn’t respond.
“No...” I whispered, my hands shaking, tears flooding my vision as I looked between his eyes, but they didn’t meet mine, didn’t look back.
“Micah,” I begged. “Say something.”
He didn’t, didn’t speak, didn’t look my way. He just continued to stare up at the storm clouds above us. I cried out, holding his lifeless body against me as I cursed The Fates, cursed the gods, cursed anyone and everyone at the chance I might finally bring ruin to the one who had cursed me to suffer as I had, to lose everyone I loved.
Time passed, and I wasn’t sure when I’d finally lost the ability to cry, when I finally scooped him into my arms. My body had grown numb to the icy chill that had once held me in its clutches, the rain continuing its onslaught, rolling down my cheeks as if the sky itself was mourning at my side, replacing the tears I couldn’t bring myself to cry any longer.
I held him as I walked aimlessly, each step kicking up fragments of memories, moments we’d shared. His smile replaced the lifeless expression staring up at me, a smile that would forever haunt me, just as Calliope haunted me... Just as Lucia haunted me.
Distant shouts reached my ears, their words muddled by the rain, but his roaring silence held me captive. Lights pierced the darkness from the alleys ahead of me, movement bleeding together as the world slowed, but I didn’t stop walking, couldn’t stop walking. I had to get him to safety, had to ensure his remains were safeguarded until he could be sent to Elysium. I’d long ago lost faith that any sort of paradise awaited us when we departed this hell, but Thalia... She did. She would want that—to see him laid to rest, soul sent off as every warrior had before him.
Zephyr appeared before me, his mouth moving, but no sound reached my ears. His movements were a blur as he grasped my arms, wide eyes falling to Micah’s body. “Damien! They’re here!”
Bodies cloaked in black swarmed the street around us, booted steps lost to the roar of the rain. Damien rushed to us, stopping short when his eyes found Micah. He cursed and whipped around, arms flying out. “Marcus is still out there! I want him found. Now!”
“Barrett,” Zephyr muttered, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I’ll take him.”
“No,” I whispered, clutching him tighter to my chest as I brushed past him.
Warriors rushed past me in every direction as Zephyr and Damien shouted orders. Lupai yipped and barked as they ran through the streets, darkness nipping at their heels as they hunted.
And I continued walking.
56
THALIA
Aknock echoed through the house, dragging me from sleep, and I groaned as I pushed myself up. My feet dragged as I trudged into the kitchen toward the front door, the room swaying, and I frowned at the strange numbness swelling in my chest.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I muttered as another knock came, my words slurring as I pulled Micah’s shirt back over my shoulder from where it had sagged.
Another knock hammered against the door, impatient and demanding, and my hand halted as I reached for the doorknob. Clarity flooded my mind, replacing the sleepy haze, and I frowned. My hand rose to my chest, fingers pressing to the fabric covering my binding tattoo, where I felt...nothing.
