Chapter 32
32
brOGAN
B efore I even saw her, my entire body erupted with pain. A sudden, physical blow so strong it nearly knocked me off my feet, reverberating through my senses in ever-increasing waves until I couldn't help but cry out.
Gritting my teeth against it, I opened my eyes. Jesus fucking Christ, I barely even recognized her.
Esme swayed unsteadily. She was battered and bloody, her beautiful golden brown skin bruised, her dark eyes swollen half shut. Her lips were split, her mouth hung open at an odd angle. A gurgling sound accompanied every stuttered rise of her chest. One of her arms was obviously broken. The other was tightly gripped in the djinn's hand.
But her heart still beat in an uneven rhythm, and was thankful of my blood in her system that kept her alive.
My eyes flew to Marcus's impeccable appearance. He was dressed like a 1950s businessman, as he always was, not a speck of blood on him or a fucking hair out of place. Raw, white-hot fury rose from my core like wildfire to replace the pain, so fast and sudden my entire body shook from it and my skin felt like it was on fire.
I was going to fucking kill him.
"Brogan." Killian was close beside me. "Watch yerself, lad." He spoke barely loud enough for me to hear him. "Remember what we're doing here."
Esme's swollen eyes were glued to my face.
Brogan, don't.
Her words twined around my mind through our bond, but how could I stand here and do nothing after what he'd done to her? When my blood boiled and my instincts screamed at me to avenge her?
Esme was MINE . Not his. He had no fucking right to lay his hands on her.
Ignoring her plea, I lunged at the son of a bitch before anyone could stop me. The cemetery turned into a blur of tombstones and shadows as I charged. Every fiber of my being focused on making Marcus pay for what he'd done to her. For all of it.
Without taking his eyes from Alice, Marcus flicked his wrist like he was waving away a gnat. A wave of energy surged toward me, crashing into my body with the force of a truck. It lifted me off my feet, hurtling me through the air like I weighed nothing at all.
I slammed into a towering angel statue, the impact shattering the relic into a dozen pieces and leaving me sprawled among the debris. Pain lanced through me everywhere, but my wrath was such that I barely felt it. All I felt was Esme's fear and pain pulsing through our bond, making me fucking crazy.
Vaulting to my feet with broken pieces of marble falling from my clothes, I crouched into a fighting stance and growled at Marcus, fangs bared.
But he completely ignored me.
I lunged again, my fingers curled like claws to rip off his head, rage pulsing through every vein in my body. My vision narrowed to a tunnel of red with Marcus at the end of it. Nothing else mattered. Not the other vampires, not the witches, not even my own safety. All I could see was Esme's broken body and Marcus's smug face.
"I'LL FUCKING RIP YOU APART!" I roared.
Two sets of hands grabbed me from behind, yanking me backward. I snarled and thrashed against their hold, my strength magnified by my fury.
"Brogan! For Christ's sake! Stand down!" Killian's voice thundered in my ear as he and Dae restrained me, each gripping one of my arms.
I nearly pulled them from their sockets trying to get to her. "Let me go!" I screamed. "Look what he fucking did to her!"
Jamal's arms locked around my chest like iron bands. "We see it, man. We all see it. But you can't help her if you’re dead.”
"Get control of yerself," Killian hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "Now."
His mind pressed against mine, but even he couldn't break through my wall of rage. And the tighter they held me, the harder I struggled, my eyes never leaving Esme. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as her lips moved, forming words I couldn't hear through the roaring in my head. But I felt her emotions and agony as it continued to flood through our bond. Every bruise on her body felt like it was etched into my own skin. Every broken bone, every drop of blood—I felt it all.
Crazed with the need to get to her, I threw my head back and roared my anger and grief to the sky.
"Jamal is right. Getting yerself killed won't help her," Killian snapped, tightening his grip on me. "Think, Brogan!"
But thinking was impossible. My newly formed bond with Esme was screaming through my body, demanding I protect my mate at all costs. The primitive creature inside me clawed at my skin to get out, to tear Marcus limb from limb. The rational part of my brain had completely shut down.
And then I heard it. The stutter of her heart. And for a brief moment, all the fight went out of me. "She's dying," I whispered, horror washing through me as Esme's heartbeat faltered. "I can feel it. She's dying!”