31. Vengeance Silene
31
Vengeance: Silene
C oughs wrack my body as a steady heartbeat pounds in every crevice of my mind, and I just wish it would go away. If only for a moment of peace, I pray for the coughs to disappear or my head to stop hurting, or just anything that would feel better than this currently does. But as I gain more awareness, I realize my body is sat up against a wall, arms tied tightly behind my back.
I struggle for another minute before looking around the room and seeing Nathaniel sitting back in a chair, and for the first time, I see the similarities. Though Ronan may have dark hair with cool watercolor eyes, and Nathaniel is all warm tones, the freckles that dot their noses and cheekbones should have been a sign. Their watchful eyes over the ones they care over mirror one another. And they were close in a way that was different from Ronan’s bond with anyone else. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. I see it so clearly even in the confusion.
“My friends call me Nate,” and yet not a single person here referred to him as such with the exception of Ronan.
“I promised him my blessing. That they both live,” Mr. Delgado admitted to me, and suddenly every time Nathaniel stepped towards Carmen in a way that showed protectiveness came to mind. The way he had tried to make a decision for her as if he had some ownership over what she was and was not allowed to do.
He doesn’t see me move at all, doesn’t hear the way my body shifts uncomfortably as he’s far too focused on something across the room from us, but the quiet is suffocating me. I almost speak but when he stands and walks over to a large box that sits tall enough to be at his waist, I clamp my mouth shut. His sad eyes rove over whatever contents lie inside before he runs a loving hand over something.
I take this moment to try and stand, but the second I’m able to get my feet under me, his attention focuses entirely on me. I still, not daring to move a muscle as our eyes meet and I see resentment replace all the softness that had just been in its place.
“You said you would be able to protect her.” His voice is so low as he turns back to the box in front of him.
“I tried. I really did, Nathaniel. Trust me, there’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already said to myself,” I reason, moving to stand, but when he pulls a gun out from his waistband, I stop completely. He aims the weapon at me with a practiced ease, a surety of what is to come.
“You failed, you should have just let her come with me, you should have—”
“She still would have been dead,” I say carefully, dragging my body back to the ground in hopes he’ll lower the weapon and just talk to me, but he’s reckless, waving the gun around as he speaks.
“No—no she would have been fine. She would have been here,” he insists, pointing the barrel to the ground. His hair is messy, sticking up all over the place, and his wide frantic eyes are wild.
“You killed her, Nathaniel. No one else,” I say, voice deceptively calm, when I want nothing more than his blood on my hands.
Because it is his fault.
We would have gotten away—nobody would have had to die if he had some courage. He could have come with us if he truly wanted and gotten to know her as she was and not as her father’s pawn.
“No. No no no,” he starts, banging his fist against his forehead as if his own thoughts are as damaging as the words that I’m speaking. Quickly aiming the barrel at me again he finishes, “You’re the one that failed.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Adonis enter the room. He puts a finger to his lips in signal for me to not say a word, before tilting his head towards Nathaniel.
Distract him, he seems to be saying, and I immediately look down, feigning fear and shame. “Maybe,” I start, thinking about what to say next, but there is only one option. The truth. “But you’re the one that told her father what you knew. You sent your brother to his death for validation from a man who was never going to let any of us live. You—” He storms toward me, but stops a foot away. As he aims the gun toward my head, I notice the shakiness of his hands, the white knuckled grip on the weapon, his finger already on the trigger as he threatens to end my life here and now.
“Shut up,” he forces out through clenched teeth.
“How stupid could you have been to think a man who was okay with killing and selling innocents wouldn’t lie to you ? That he wouldn’t—”
“Stop fucking talking, you don’t know anything!” he exclaims, but his voice wavers, and I see the grief beneath his surface, the stutter in his breathing. I know that even with misguided intentions, he just wanted her safety. He just wanted her love. But his obsession overpowered all logical reasoning.
“You sent us all to our deaths when you decided her worth was only what her father made it,” I continue, keeping his attention on me, no matter how damning it may be for me.
“I said to stop fucking talking!” he yells, pressing the cold metal against my forehead, and not for a second do I look away from him. Green and brown clash in a battle of truths and secrets that still have yet to be surfaced. And then his finger moves to the trigger, and I embrace the death that approaches me.
Yet it doesn’t come.
Instead of the clicking sound of the trigger and the explosion of gunpowder that follows immediately after, I see dark arms covered in white inked snakes and iris’ wrap around pale freckled skin before bones crack. A pained and strangled grunt escapes Nathaniel before his body falls to the ground, his head turned much further than it should be.
He’s dead. His life has been traded for mine, and I remember what I had been told before this all started. Adonis and I warily stare at one another, wondering just how much the other person knows. When his body comes closer to mine, hand pulling a dagger from his belt, my body flinches away from him. It doesn’t escape me that this is the first time that I’ve ever actually been scared of him. If he’s been playing both sides of this game from the start, can I trust him now? Saving me from Nathaniel doesn’t mean he intends to keep me alive. But then I see the red rimming his eyes, accompanied by pinched brows and stop.
“I’m sorry.” Sincerity floods his words, and I give a slow small nod. My vision catches on his ring finger, and I notice—for the first time—the difference in skin tone where a wedding band would have been.
“Me too,” I respond, holding out my wrists in a silent promise of trust.
“I didn’t even recognize her. That first day, I saw her body on the ground outside the house and didn’t know that she was…” he trails off as he cuts the rope that binds my hands together and realization dawns on me. “I didn’t recognize her like he recognized you. She was no more than a stranger for all I knew.”
“She saved me,” I whisper to him, breathlessly. The woman who I thought looked to be a warrior, who appeared frantic and worried, warned me to err on the side of caution when it came to everyone else—she was the wife of the man in front of me. Yet another victim that should have never fallen and wouldn’t have if it weren’t for…
My eyes drift to Nathaniel’s lifeless ones a few feet away from me as I think of what could’ve been had he never been corrupted or had his need for acceptance not been exploited. Looking at Adonis and his hate filled gaze, I place a hand on his shoulder attempting to get his attention away from the man who no longer breathes.
“He may have betrayed us, but he wasn’t the one who took her. He didn’t know the price that would be paid. He’s not the one you want,” I urge, stumbling to my feet before another coughing fit scratches and tears at my throat. Even as he acknowledges my words and mumbles a half hearted agreement, I can see the thoughts that invade his knowledge of the truth and lingers.
A wish that he would have prolonged the man’s suffering if not just a little longer.
“We have to—” I start, but he slams his hand over my mouth, silencing me once again and instead of fighting against him, I listen to our surroundings. Soft footsteps approach us, and we both hurry to stand. He hands me a dagger and motions for me to follow him, and as I fall into step, I let my curious eyes look within the large box on the other side of the room and feel my heart stop.
Held within is a cold, stiff body. Her skin is white as paper, a stark contrast to the dark blood that still covers her body as if no one could bother to clean her before putting her on display. Even in death, there was no real care shown, only neglect to the one good thing that has ever resided within these four walls, far too cruel to ever be called home. It makes me nauseous to even think about it.
“Silene, we have to go now.” Adonis urges, but I don’t move from where I stand.
“Do you know where Ronan is?” I question, attention still focused on the woman in front of me as I comb my fingers through her tangled strands of hair. He hesitates too long, and when I turn to him, his expression is grim. “Is he alive?”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t tell me anything else. That’s all that matters. I‘m not leaving him.”
The footsteps get closer and closer, his eyes dart from where we stand and what lies ahead. “It’s not possible,” he says, before grabbing hold of my wrist and attempting to drag me forward, but I fight back. I dig my nails into his wrists and kick at his knees until he lets me go.
“It is,” I demand, taking one last look at Carmen and promising myself that I’ll come back for her if I live. “You’re either with me or against me, Adonis. But there’s only three of us left, and I will not leave him to die. Not when he’s saved me in every way that a person can be saved.” His face softens with a newfound tenderness, something that battles his desire to leave. An understanding of what it feels like to have someone like that. “The only way this doesn’t end today is if I die,” I say, lowering my voice and scanning the area where we stand.
I see the weapons I’ve been stripped of on the other side of the room, past the large opening where the others approach. They’re too far to grab now, but it’s where I set my sights as I pull his large body behind furniture in the room, swiftly grabbing Nathaniel’s discarded pistol that lies on the floor from the still semi warm hands of Nathaniel.
“This ends now,” I whisper once more, reiterating to him my conditions of leaving. I can tell he is apprehensive, but as he grabs a second dagger and pops his neck, I take the gesture for what it is. An alliance of sorts, I suppose. A promise of solidarity.
“Whatever it takes,” he whispers, before sliding through the room, throwing a dagger at a man’s head while stabbing another in his foot.
Shouts of orders sound through the chaos as I join the fight. I sprint and leap onto a man’s shoulders, pulling his body down to the ground, repeatedly stabbing him in his abdomen. I roll off his shoulders as we hit the floor and shoot a man that has gotten far too close to Adonis’ large body for my liking. He throws his head in my direction, surprised, before throwing another dagger over my shoulder. The deep gurgles of someone behind me are indication enough of the mark he has hit as we both begin fighting once again. A sphere is aimed in my direction, and I only see quick enough to bend back and reach my hand out, catching it before it could go any further.
Laughing, I aim my dagger at someone’s leg, throwing him to the ground in a shout of pain before twirling the sphere in front of my body, adjusting to the weight. Then, I’m dancing through the bodies, hitting and stabbing with the sharp tipped metal in my hands, heading in the direction of my precious hatchets. When I get to them, I drop the long weapon, ready to pick up the ones who offer my comfort as a large hand grips the back of my head, pulling me down by my hair.
My body slams into the ground as the air is knocked from my body. I struggle to breathe as he straddles my waist and mimics the laugh I had thrown his way before my dagger had been thrown into his thigh. Red sticky blood oozes from the wound, and as he lifts the very weapon I’d used on him, ready to kill me, I smile back at him.
Faltering for only a moment, I let him see the way my eye darts past him, and when he turns to look, Adonis is there, shoving my discarded sphere through his chest. When death lingers at his side, I reach for the axe and shove the blade through his skull, granting him a quicker death, even if I don’t find him deserving of that mercy.
I quickly move to stand, taking in the room littered with lost lives before signaling a thanks to my acquaintance and motioning for him to take the lead as I grab the second axe and my black gifted dagger.
“You’re not going to like what you see,” he tells me, not bothering to look back to see if I’m following.
“Alive. That’s all I need for him to be,” I reply, and as we pass one of the cameras in the hallway, I stop. I gaze at it, the red flashing beacon of proof that he’s watching. A smile blossoms on my face. One I know replicates the one Robert had given me the last time we saw each other. I put my blood lust and thirst for vengeance on full display, cocking my head side to side before stepping back and watching as the light disappears.
Adonis clears his throat from across the hall, urging me to keep up, and I quickly shorten the distance between us. His eyebrow raise in silent question and I just shrug, but keep the smile on my face, not caring how unsettling it may seem. He doesn’t shy away from me, though, but rather straightens his back and matches the eerie nature of how I stand and carry myself. Not for a single moment do I forget the way I will always see this man for what he is.
Dangerous.
Especially since he has nothing left to fight for, pushed forward only by the grief forced upon him.
“He’s in the dining hall. The one right next to his office.” His muscled body pushes forward, determined to reach our destination just as much as I am. Mr. Delgado’s life is not mine alone for the taking.
As we turn the last corner, he holds his hand up in a clenched fist, halting me in my tracks. Pulling a gun from his waistband, one I realize he had picked up from where I discarded it earlier. He releases the magazine, checking the bullets, before pulling out a spare from his pocket. Before I can question what he’s doing, he’s angling his body around the corner and emptying the first magazine.
The sound of gunshots echo around us as he pulls back and reloads the weapon. He waits for a second, when it sounds like the gunfire is slowing down, then turns the corner and empties it again.
“There are two more,” he says as he drops the second magazine to the ground, throwing the weapon into the middle of the hallway where the shouts and gunfire are loudest. We each grab a dagger before he looks back around the corner as quickly as possible.
“Against this wall, not too much taller than you. That’s where you aim,” he says before counting down from three. Then, we’re both throwing our bodies around the corner, flinging our weapons out, hoping that they hit their mark.
When both bodies hit the ground, we quickly move to stand, but no sooner than we’re on our feet, another gunshot sounds from behind us. I turn around, flinging one of my axes toward the noise, and watch as it makes contact. But not before the bullet makes itself a home within Adonis’ shoulder.
He grips the exit wound tightly, trying to minimize his blood loss as he leans against the wall. “You okay there, big guy?” I question as I approach him, reaching to take a look at the damage, but he slaps my hand away.
“I’ll be fine. I just need a minute, but you should go ahead. I don’t know how much more he has in him.” My brows furrow as I turn toward the door ahead, and as I take a step forward, I hear a scream of agony pierce the air, catapulting me forward in sheer panic.
When I step inside though, I’m unsure if what I said earlier was correct. Maybe him being alive isn’t best. Perhaps, at this point, death would be much kinder.