Chapter Fifty-Two
LOLA
Enzo pulls Nic from me, wrapping his arms around his torso, eyes rimmed in red. “You just had to get in on our heart action, didn’t you?” he teases, grinning as he sniffs. “Couldn’t let me keep Lola all to myself, huh?”
Nic laughs, which turns into a cough as I chuckle through my tears. I lean against their shoulders, letting my tears drip onto their sleeves as I try to finally catch my breath. His heartbeat is a third echo to mine in my chest, strong and steady.
He’s going to be okay. He’s alive.
“Astra?” a voice calls from behind.
Frowning, I turn to see Estelle jerking through the trapdoor toward me. She must have injured herself fighting Laurel, because her legs seem stiff. “Are you all right?”
Why did she call me Astra?
“I . . . Yes,” I say, rubbing tears from my eyes as unease twists in my stomach. “Where’s Laurel and the others?”
“Still downstairs fighting.” She moves to inspect the astral spectral diffuser on the corner of the roof. “I wanted to check on you.”
“We’ve almost made it,” I say, nodding at the eclipse. “I’d say we have less than a minute left until the moonshard seals itself.”
Estelle pauses. “Less than a minute,” she repeats.
“Until the eclipse hits totality?” I frown. This isn’t Estelle.
My heart stops.
It’s Laurel.
“Wait.” I bolt across the roof toward her. “Don’t—”
But she shoves the diffuser off the edge of the roof before I reach her.
“No!” I shout, watching helplessly as the device crashes to the pavement twenty-six floors below, shattering on impact.
That’s it. We can’t seal the moonshard.
She’s won.
“Laurel.” Nic coughs as he pushes to his feet, leaning heavily on the nearly finished moonshard for balance.
“Yes?” a voice says from behind us.
The real Laurel steps out of the stairwell, grinning. “You thought you could thwart the stars? Such pride.” She raises a pistol and points it at the moonshard. “Too bad they see all.”
“No.” I step in her way. “I won’t let you destroy it.”
“You will if I shoot you first,” she says with a shrug, cocking the pistol.
Someone hurtles in from the side. “Lola!” comes a deep-throated growl.
Laurel pulls the trigger at the exact instant my father leaps in front of me. The bullet slams into him, and he topples backward into me.
“Father!” I cry.
“Lola-girl,” he wheezes as blood spurts from the wound in his chest.
Laurel cocks another bullet into the chamber, grinding her teeth.
“No,” I say, pressing my hands against the gaping hole over his heart. “Please!”
But it is futile. There’s too much blood. It’s draining fast. And Laurel’s already pointing the weapon at the moonshard again.
Nic stands upright, blocking it.
“Step aside!” Laurel barks.
“No,” he croaks.
She swallows. “Don’t make me hurt you again, Nic. I have to do this.”
“Lola,” my father gasps, raising a trembling hand to my cheek. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
“Don’t apologize,” I sob, shaking my head, pushing harder against his chest as tears burn down my cheeks. “Just . . . survive.”
“This is your last chance, Nic!” Laurel shouts, but all I can see is the crimson burbling through my father’s teeth.
“You deserved better than the life I gave you,” he coughs, and I press my lips to his palm, sobbing. It smells of cigar smoke. Cinnamon. Orange trees.
Home.
“I love you, Daddy,” I whisper.
“Do it, Laurel. Be the monster,” Nic shouts. “Own your treachery.”
“Your mother would be so proud,” St. James wheezes on one last, shuddering breath. Then his eyes go empty. His jaw goes slack.
My father is gone.