In one swift motion, Rivet swi
ng
s
around Cole’s back
, clamps
his
arms around his head, and jerks
it violently to the side.
I’ll never forget the image, never forget the
crunch
of breaking bones.
Precious, life-giving bones.
“Oh God, please no,” I whisper
, my eyes filling with tears.
Not him.
Please not him.
Take me.
He doesn’t deserve this.
He’s had enough.
Oh, Cole.
Not Cole.
Beautiful Cole.
Please come back.
I hear
a wailing, an ee
rie, awful pe
a
ling, that sounds
more animal than human.
I realize it is me.
The sound i
s coming from my throat, unrequested, but appropriate.
I know I’ll
n
ever get over this moment, will never cope with the loss I am feeling, but that doesn’t mean I ca
n’t do something about it.
For him.
For Cole.
No plan, tears
streaming down my cheeks, I stri
de towar
d Rivet, whose bloodied face i
s filled with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming, his lips twisted into a deranged smile.
With both arms outstretched
, he flicks
his fingers back to himself, as if to say
C’mon!
It is unnecessary.
I am
coming.
He could
use
one of the weapons hanging from his belt: his sword, his gun, his
razor-sharp dagger.
But that isn’t Rivet.
He lives for the challenge.
He stan
d
s
with his fists cl
enched, snarling as I approach
.
The few times I’ve
fought
before,
I’d used fast, powerful strikes, ending the fight as qui
ckly as possible.
This time I
try
the same tactic.
I aim
a kick at
Rivet’s groin, but he dodges
it with unexpected speed, catching my leg in midair and
sw
inging a kick of his own toward my head.
I try
to duck,
but it i
s difficult with him holding my leg.
Adjusting the arc of his attack i
n mid-kick, Rivet’s foot slams
into my ear.
Fierce pain sho
o
t
s
th
rough my skull as Rivet releases
my leg and let
s
me t
umble to the ground.
My head is ringing and I’m
seeing stars.
I look
up, and between the
flashes of light that disturb my vision, I see
Rivet standing over me.
Now he has
his knife out.
* * *
Tristan
My attacker
i
s a strange creature, growing a sword from his stomach.
At least that’s what my mixed u
p mind thinks.
That is, until I see
the spot of blood wideni
ng around the blade.
He drops
his
sword.
It i
s headed straight for my head—my e
ye
,
to be more specific—but I’m so shocked I just watch
it fall.
In my distorted mind it looks
beautiful, like a falling star, sprinkling magical stardust on everything in
its path.
Subconsciously
,
I know it i
s a d
eadly sword, and the stardust i
s just the reflection of distant lights on the broad side of its steely blade.
A
we battles
reason.
At the las
t second, reason mak
e
s a surge and I spi
n away, narrowly avoiding being impaled b
y the star, which, of course, i
s really a sword.
A rough hand pushes
m
y attacker to the side and he fa
ll
s
away.
A face appears
.
My friend—my beautiful friend.
Although he
looks
as white as a ghost, Roc i
s grinning.
“You look injured,” he says
, kneeling down and inspecting the gash on my leg.
“A flesh wound,” I say
.
“Where is she?”
Roc cranes his neck and then moves aside, points
at a fleeing figure, moving quickly away from us.
Adele, her long, bla
ck hair billowing behind her, ru
n
s
like the hounds of H
ell pursue her.
With my eyes, I follow
her path t
o its likely destination and see
Rivet watching Adele charge right at him, goading her with his hands, standing overtop a fallen figure.
The big, dark guy.
Adele’s friend.
Oh no
.
Based on the crumpled body, the sneer on Rivet’s face, and Adele’s mad
dash
toward
Rivet, I suspect her friend is dead.
She i
sn’
t running away from Hell, she i
s streaking
toward
it, without regard
for her own life.
Although I’
ve never
really
talked to her, I am
getting to know her through the extraordinary series of events unfolding before my very eyes.
Add selfless to her list of desirable qualities.
I hope her friend i
sn’t dead, but
if he is, I certainly do
n’t want to add Adele to the list of people dead by Rivet’s hand.
Ignoring the
intense
pain
that courses
through my leg and
back, I push to my feet and chase after her
, limping badly.
Adele i
s like a raging beast, attacking Rivet immediately with a
kick
similar to the one she used to knock me down.
He i
s m
ore ready for it than I was and easily catches her leg and punishes
her with a vicious
kick to the head.
Dread fills my heart as I see
Rivet remove a knife from his belt.
I swat
away the dread like a pesky
mosquito
.
Nothing can
stop me.
No amount of pain
, no distance, no obstacle can
prevent me from getting to her, killing Rivet, saving her.
Or so I think.
My brother appears
from the side, seemingly
arriv
ing out of thin air, traveling through some
crack between dimensions.
He i
s f
lanked by a dozen men.
There i
sn’t time to ask questions.
The whys and who
s and whats can come later.
I lower my head and charge
between two of the men.
They a
re big and stron
g.
It i
s like hitt
ing a stone block.
My feet keep
moving, churning, trying to
push them out of my way.
I am
screaming something—I
have no idea what—but they won’t move, wo
n’t relinquish their grip.
One of the guys twists
around behind me and
locks
my arms behind my back.
Adele is already
dead.
Too much tim
e has
passed since Rivet pull
ed
out
the blade.
It i
s over,
all over.
All i
s lost
.
My mother.
Adele.
Roc will
be imp
risoned—maybe worse.
My life i
s over.
Ki
llen i
s in front o
f me, saying something.
I can’t hear, do
n’t
care to hear.
Nothing he can say will
matter to me.
All of our childish kicks under the table, our childhood fights, were
nothing compared to this.
He i
s no longer my brother in any sense of the word, blood included.
Adele is already
dead.
I lunge forward and head
-
butt
his moving lips.
He goes down hard, but i
s on his feet in seconds, kicking me in the ribs, punching me in the face, spitting and snarling at me.
Screaming at me.
I stil
l can’t hear him and do
n’t react
to his physical abuse, which mak
e
s him even angrier.
There is no physical pain that can
ecli
pse the emotional anguish I feel
.
The only antidote to how I am feeling is death.
I hope Killen will
finish me off.
Although I’m sure Killen wants to kill me, he doesn’t.
But only because he fears
my father more than anyone.
Br
inging home a dead brother wo
n’t sit well with
my father, not because he values
my
life, but because of what I kno
w.
He nee
ds
to know who, if anyone, I’
ve
told his s
ecrets to.
I could’ve told half the Moon Realm by now.
Yeah, me dying will
create far t
oo much damage control, which i
s
a
headache the President wo
n’t want.
Eventually he stops
beating me.
Throug
h my bloody, swollen eyes, I see them drag Roc forward.
He i
s b
adly beaten
,
too.
They si
t us next to each other, back to back
so that we stay up
.
My hearing finally returns
in a blast of noise.
Bombs a
re still thunderin
g around the subchapter.
Roc is groaning.
My brother i
s speaking.
“Why, my dear brother, were you following this filthy
traitor
all over the Moon Realm?
Answer me, or she dies.”
Huh?
My head i
s t
hrobbing so badly and my mind is so muddled that I don’t really understand what is happening.
My brother i
s asking me about Adele
, I think, but he i
s threatening me wit
h her life, which is meaningless.
He ca
n’t take something
away
that is
already
gone.
“Already dead,” I manage
to whisper.
“No, brother—not dead.
You can add Rivet’s murder to her list of offenses.”
Chapter Nineteen
Adele
I
’m not
going to die until
Rivet does.
If we both die, that will
still be a victory.
A way for me to honor Cole.
Using
my legs like scissors, I clamp
them aroun
d one of Rivet’s legs and roll
, forcing his knee to buckle to t
he side.
He let
s
out a cry of pain as his cartilage
twists
.
I move
fast
er
than I’
ve
ever moved, kicking to my feet in one motion
like a ninja, a move my dad
showed me
countless times, but which I’d never been able to
master.