Chapter 26 – RAVEN
RAVEN
Oh, this is just fucking perfect.
Knight and Wraith are tearing through train cars like they're made of tissue paper, and I'm standing here watching through a hole that used to be a wall, wondering exactly how many ways this clusterfuck of a plan can go wrong.
The answer, apparently, is all of them.
The train rocks violently as another explosion echoes from somewhere ahead.
Through the gaping wound in our car, I catch sight of something that makes my jaw drop.
There's a giant shirtless alpha riding up on a white horse like some deranged fairy tale prince, if said prince had biceps the size of melons and was wielding a rocket launcher.
I think his name is Whiskey. That tracks.
"Oh, look, the stripper's here!" I call out to Plague, unable to resist the quip even as my heart pounds. "And he has a rocket launcher. Aimed right at the train his mate is in. How brilliant."
Plague's eyes narrow to slits as he glares through the hole. "I told him not to fuck with that."
The resigned irritation in his voice would be amusing if we weren't careening toward disaster at approximately seventy miles per hour. The train begins to slow, wheels screeching against the tracks in protest. Thank the gods.
"We need to get Cosima off this train," Nikolai says, stating the obvious with his usual charm. "Now."
Geo shifts Cosima's unconscious form in his arms, wincing. "My fucking knee's shot to hell. Here." He passes her to Nikolai with surprising gentleness for someone built like a battering ram. "Don't drop her, or I'll use your spine as a coat rack."
Nikolai takes her like she's made of spun glass, cradling her against his chest. The tenderness in his expression makes something twist in my gut. Not jealousy, exactly. More like recognition. We're all utterly fucked when it comes to this woman.
Even if Plague's sanctimonious offer of "help" made me want to turn him inside out like a sock, he's right about one thing. Something is wrong with Cosima, and we need to get her help, but right now, getting her off this train in one piece has to take priority.
Without hesitation, Nikolai leaps from the slowing train, landing in a crouch on the sandy ground below. Even from here, I can see how he shields Cosima's body with his own, taking the brunt of the impact.
I'm about to follow when Geo's gravelly voice stops me. "What about him?" He jerks his chin toward Plague, who's watching us with those calculating eyes.
A sneer curls my lips. "If his mate wants him so badly, he can have him." I gesture toward the door with mock gallantry. "Elders first."
Geo's eye narrows dangerously. "Watch your fucking mouth, kid."
But he jumps anyway, cursing up a storm about his knee the whole way down. His landing is less graceful than Nikolai's, more like a controlled crash, but he manages to roll with it.
At least until he realizes I'm not jumping after him and his eye goes wide.
"You little—" His words cut off as the train whips past, putting distance between us.
I should follow. Every instinct screams at me to leap after them, to get to Cosima. But Knight's still in there somewhere, locked in combat with Wraith, and someone needs to warn him about the incoming artillery.
Fucking hero complex. It's going to get me killed one day. I'm much better at playing the sexy villain, but lately, I find myself wanting to be something more.
I sprint toward the next car, vaulting through the door just in time to see Knight and Wraith locked in a death grip.
"Knight, stop!" I yell. "We need to get off this train! Now!"
He actually looks up at me, which is a miracle considering he's clearly deep in his berserker state. Before he can respond in whatever way he might, an explosion hits and the train rocks hard enough to send me flying into a wall.
The next thing I see when I come to is Knight and Wraith, still locked in combat, tumbling straight out through another massive hole in the side of the train. They disappear down the sand dunes in a tangle of fury.
"SHIT!"
BOOOOOOOM.
The train rocks harder. This explosion was close enough that I feel the heat wash over my face. The world tilts sideways, metal screaming as the car tears itself apart. One moment I'm standing, the next I'm airborne, flung out into the desert like a ragdoll.
The impact drives every ounce of air from my lungs. Sand fills my mouth, nose, eyes. My ears ring with a high-pitched whine that drowns out everything else. For a moment, blessed darkness takes me.
When consciousness returns, it brings pain. Every fucking joint feels like it's been professionally worked over with a hammer. I blink sand from my eyes, trying to focus through the haze. The train is already hanging halfway off the tracks, twisted metal groaning under its own weight.
Where is everyone? Where is she?
I stagger to my feet, the world spinning sickeningly. My usually impeccable balance is shot to hell, but I force myself forward. One foot in front of the other. Find Cosima. Make sure she's safe. Everything else is secondary.
"Cosima!" My voice cracks on her name. "Geo! Even you, Nikolai, you insufferable bastard!"
The desert swallows my words. Nothing but wind and the distant creak of the dying train answers me. I stumble through the sand, searching frantically among the dunes and scattered underbrush. She has to be here somewhere. Has to be safe. The alternative is unthinkable.
A bullet whizzes past my ear, so close I feel the displaced air. It slams into a palm tree behind me with a meaty thunk. Pure instinct takes over. I spin, drawing my gun in one smooth motion, firing in the direction the shot came from.
The sound of my shots echoes off the cliffs, but there's no cry of pain, no body falling. Instead, a manic laugh like a jackal's call reaches me. It bounces off the rocky walls, impossible to pinpoint.
My head throbs, vision still swimming from the blast. I squeeze off a few more rounds, trying to track that nightmare sound. The laughter cuts off abruptly, replaced by a voice that makes my blood run cold.
"You're good." The words carry a distinct Vrissian accent, smooth as poisoned honey. "I'm not sure I'd agree you're the fastest gun in the Outer Reaches, but good."
Valek. Of fucking course it's Valek.
"Come out and try me when I'm not shellshocked, you fucking weasel," I grit out, scanning the rocks for any sign of movement.
The desert plays tricks with sound, bouncing his voice off every surface until he could be anywhere. My finger hovers over the trigger, ready to fire at the first hint of white hair.
An engine roars to life behind me. I whirl around just in time to see Valek tearing toward me on a motorcycle, white scarf streaming behind him like a banner. In the harsh sunlight, dressed all in white, he looks like death personified. A pale rider come to collect.
The knife in his hand catches the light as he bears down on me. "You know how this ends, pretty boy. Save us both the trouble and die quietly."
I dive to the side, rolling through the sand as the bike roars past. Gravel and dirt spray in its wake, stinging my skin. Before I can fully regain my footing, Valek's already turning, coming back for another pass.
This time, he abandons the bike mid-charge, launching himself at me like a fucking panther. We collide hard, going down in a tangle of limbs. His knife whistles past my face, close enough that I feel the wind of its passage. My gun goes flying, lost somewhere in the sand.
We grapple desperately, each trying to gain the upper hand. Valek's slightly stronger than me, but I'm faster. More flexible. I use every dirty trick the wasteland ever taught me, going for eyes, throat, balls. Anything to survive.
Somehow, I manage to get a hand on my backup piece while he's on top of me, pinning me down and straining for the chance to saw off my head with that dagger.
It's a small pistol I keep tucked against my ribs for emergencies exactly like this.
I jam it against his thigh, since that's the only thing I can reach, and pull the trigger without hesitation.
Blood immediately soaks through his white pants, but Valek doesn't even flinch. Just grins down at me with those pale eyes, knife still dangerously close to my throat.
"Impressive," he purrs, like I've done something clever rather than shot him. "Fewer than three people have ever gotten a shot on me. I'll make sure they put it on your tombstone."
Before either of us can make another move, the thunder of hooves reaches us. Not just hooves. Gunfire too, rapid bursts that echo off the canyon walls.
The others. They're still fighting, which means she's still in danger.
I don't have time for this.
I put on the face again. The glassy-eyed mask of terror and vulnerability that makes other alphas so uncomfortable, and soften my voice as I say, "And here I thought you only killed alphas."
Confusion momentarily eclipses his smugness, and his deranged grin falters. "And what the fuck are you?"
"They didn't tell you?" I ask, my voice breathy and strained as I squirm in a halfhearted attempt to get out from under him. My scent does shift when I'm in such close proximity to another alpha. Usually, willpower is enough to mask it, but at certain times, it pays not to fight it.
The way Valek grimaces and shifts so we're in a slightly less intimate position without letting up on the whole head-sawing thing suggests this is one of those times. His nostrils flare and I can tell he's scenting the air. "What the—"
The distraction is all I need. I bring my knee up and throw Valek off me with strength born of desperation, sending him tumbling down a steep ravine. He calls me every filthy word that exists in Vrissian on the way down until I hear an impact. Pretty sure I hear him hit a tree, hard.
Hope it went up your ass.
His motorcycle sits abandoned mere feet away, engine still running. I don't think, just move. In seconds I'm on it, gunning the engine as I tear off toward the sound of combat.