Chapter 10 Dante
Dante
My wife is a holy terror. Most of the time, I love that about her. But I just got her back. I'm not about to use her as bait for a madwoman, let alone a goddamn Beacon of Seraph.
"Melody wants to use herself as bait for Ella," Roman chuckles. "Ridiculous."
Shock and awe sweep over Melnyk's features as he looks Melody up and down. "Are you serious?"
"As a goddamn funeral," Melody snarls. "She wants me dead? I want her dead. And I'll fight each and every one of you motherfuckers if you get in my way."
"I believe you can do it," Melnyk says, still looking a bit shell-shocked.
"What?" Roman and I squawk at the same time.
"It makes sense, no? Ella held Melody captive in the basement for weeks. Ella turned her over to the jail when it suited her. We've made a fool of Ella. Melody deserves to be the one to put her down," Melnyk says with his hands spread wide.
"Yes! Fuck yes. See? Melnyk agrees—we have to do this." Melody claps her hands together with murderous glee.
I barely feel myself walk to the leather sofa and plop down. I can't lose her. I can't lose my wife. I just got her back. There's no way I'm going to offer her up on a silver platter.
"Sir?" Roman appears by my side. "For the record, I think this is a bad idea. But I understand her stance."
"So do I, is the problem." I rake my hand down my face and scratch at the stubble growing on my jaw. "I think we need to discuss this. Obviously, we're in no position to launch any offensive right now, especially if Ella is well on her way to this location."
"Give me a fucking rocket launcher, and we'll see about offense." Melody glares at me. For some ridiculous reason, my cock very much likes the idea of my wife aiming a Javelin at her enemies. Down, boy.
"So, hypothetically speaking, what would you want to do?" I cross my legs and readjust myself. "Assuming we had adequate time to plan something out."
"Like I said. Kit me out. Give me, like, thirty pounds of body armor and all the guns you have. Knives, too. Set me loose." My wife smirks, and my heart skips a beat. "You said you'd deliver me my enemies and watch me work my magic. Prove it."
Fuck. I said a lot of things. She's really going to hold me to it, isn't she? "Fine."
"You're fucking joking," Roman scoffs. "After all this, you're going to risk her—"
"That's exactly why I need to do this," Melody interrupts. She fixes him with that chilling stare I know a little too well. "I want her dead, Roman. Dead-dead. Six feet under in an undisclosed location."
"You can't possibly be allowing this?" He turns to me and clenches his jaw. "I said I understand her stance, not that I think it's a good stance."
"We do have body armor," I muse. "I don't know about rocket launchers but certainly assault rifles. And if I recall, Helena said her aim was improving at a shocking rate."
"Fucking ridiculous," Roman hissed. "You're so pussy-blind that you're seriously going to allow this?"
Melody's hand cracks across Roman's cheek. She was on him so fast, I never even saw her move. He glares at her with murderous rage. Her hand left a pink imprint on his cheek, and furious red creeps up his neck.
"Fuck you, Roman," she growls. "No one allows me to do shit.
Let's talk body count and see how you measure up to me.
No, actually, let's talk bare hands body count.
You shoot people? I stab and strangle and watch the light leave their eyes.
Keep your goddamn dick in your pants—I don't need a pissing contest; I need fucking weapons. "
"Please," Melnyk leaps between the two of them. "Please, we do not need infighting. Mrs. Lyons is capable. I believe her. Mr. Lyons has final say—do not fight her, Roman."
I'm frozen. I do have the final say. They're on my payroll, and Roman is inching closer to another fistfight with me.
The thought of losing Melody again—permanently—is paralyzing.
But if she doesn't kill Ella, someone else will have to, and Melody will make my life a living hell for the rest of our days together.
"You haven't shot for a while, love. Let's at least test your reflexes. Everybody out," I command.
"You're going to regret this, Dante," Roman scoffs.
Melnyk lines up the cans of baked beans on a fallen log about fifty yards downhill from the cabin.
Melody runs her fingers over the barrel of the rifle, taking in every groove and notch.
Roman crouches beside a tree stump. He's silently fuming, and I know I'll have to deal with him, but first, I want to see what Melody can do.
With perfect trigger discipline, she aims her sight at the log and seven tin cans. Melnyk shuffles back to us, panting as he gives her a thumbs-up.
"Ready when you are, miss."
As soon as the words are out of Melnyk's mouth, she slips her finger into the trigger guard and fires off the first shot. The sharp crack echoes through the woods, piercing the still morning air. An empty casing tumbles to the forest floor, and the tin can of beans is obliterated.
"How's that, Ro?" I snicker and flick my gaze to my second in command. His jaw clenches as he grunts noncommittally.
With tiny adjustments, Melody sets her sights on the next can and fires off another shot. I can't help but flinch at the sound as she destroys the second can, the third, the fourth. Every single one of them is perfectly aimed. Every single one of them hits their mark with deadly precision.
God, she's absolutely stunning.
She tosses her hair, pointing the gun to the earth. "Still think I'm ridiculous, Roman?"
He grinds his teeth and grunts again, giving a half-shrug. Melnyk stifles a chuckle, and the other men shuffle on their feet. It seems they have a new respect for my wife—as they should.
Quick as a whip, she brings the rifle back to her shoulder and lets loose the last three bullets.
All of them, again, hit their targets perfectly.
Melnyk jumps in the air and whoops excitedly, cheering her on.
I can't help the smile creeping across my face.
She's perfection. I love her so much. I'm going to show her exactly how much I love her the instant we're alone again.
Melody flicks on the safety and lowers the gun again, smirking at Roman. "Where's the body armor?"
He coughs out something that sounds like "inside" and grumbles, raising himself up.
Melnyk gently takes the gun from Melody and disassembles it with lightning speed, happily praising her aim and stability.
Melody meets my eye, and I give her a prideful smile and a single nod before motioning for Roman to follow me.
We crunch through the dense underbrush, and I can practically feel the anger radiating from his skin. As soon as the joyful conversation is out of earshot, I turn to face him. "I understand your concerns."
"Do you?" He grimaces and spits on a leaf. "We've risked everything for her—for you, sir. Those men left their homes and their lives to keep her safe. She wants to shit on all of that and face Ella herself."
"I know she does," I sigh. "I'm going to let her. I have to. She'd never forgive me if someone else took Ella out."
"Yeah, well, maybe that'd do you some good." The crease between his brows deepens as he averts his gaze from my face. "Let her learn some humility."
"Roman," I interject sharply. "I thought I made myself extremely clear that I will not stand for any disrespect."
"Of course you did," he says, stumbling over his words. "Of course. I apologize, sir. This is all just very stressful."
The furrow of his brow stays put, as does the furious flush creeping up his neck and culminating in his ears. He does make a good point. Of course, it's stressful. None of us wants this. But letting—encouraging, rather—Melody to take out Ella solves all of our problems.
We just have to make sure she remains safe.
"I understand," I say soothingly. "We all feel the stress. But if Melody kills Ella? All of our problems go away, just like that."
"Unless she fails," he huffs. "Unless Ella expects this."
"We don't even know if she's on her way," I retort. "Just because she's gone dark doesn't mean she's hot on our heels. For all we know, she could be getting chewed out by the Seraph himself, right this moment."
Roman flinches almost imperceptibly at the concept but quickly composes himself. "You're right. We'll get her outfitted. Melnyk will take point."
I offer him a sharp nod and begin my walk back to the cabin.
He follows suit, but he's still angry. I can tell by the way he stomps at the dead twigs and underbrush, snapping small limbs and crunching over the season's dead leaves.
I don't like how volatile he's become. This isn't the kind of support that I need, that I pay for.
Everything out of his mouth seems combative and hostile.
I don't like it one bit.
I watch numbly as Melnyk suits up my wife in body armor and bulletproof everything.
Once he's satisfied, she peels it all off and follows me to our bedroom.
I can't help but absently stare at the packed suitcases.
It's been seven hours since Ella went dark, and there's no sign of her.
The surveillance systems that The Eligos erected around the cabin have only picked up a fox stalking a rabbit.
No signs of human approach. Just the way I like it. Though I can't breathe easy, not yet.
"You're a fierce woman, Melody," I whisper as she slips into bed beside me. "I'm so proud of you."
"You're not mad?" She cocks an eyebrow. "I thought you might be, you know, after I slapped Roman."
"Nah. Needed to happen. He was disrespecting you. Both of us, really," I chuckle. "I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Doesn't matter," she says with a shrug. "I'll kill Ella. The Seraph will back off, if only momentarily. They'll kinda be floundering without a Beacon, right?"
Maybe it's shitty of me, but her intelligence and ability to pick up new concepts always surprise me. Warmth floods in my chest as I reach out to her, and she happily snuggles into me. "Correct."
I lazily drift a hand to the crook of her neck and trail my fingertips over the soft flesh.
She shivers at the touch, and I feel a tiny smile creep over my lips.
This is perfection. My wife, the dangerous woman that she is, cuddled up to me.
Time ticks by as her breathing slows, and I relish the heat of her body pressed against mine.
Try as I might to keep them at bay, thoughts of our impending firefight invade my mind.
Even if Ella doesn't show her face in these mountains, we'll need to launch an attack.
We can't stay here forever. These men do have lives to get back to.
It's not fair of me to keep them hostage.
We just need a bit more intelligence. Something to work off of, somewhere to point Melody and let her rage take hold.
"Hey. Stop it." Melody cracks open an eye and pokes me in the jaw.
"Stop what?" I ask, somewhat guiltily.
"You're think-blinking." She flutters her lashes exaggeratedly. "You blink really fast when you think hard."
I do? I never noticed. "Sorry, love. I'm just ruminating."
"Yeah, I know. Stop it." She buries her face in my chest and lets out a slow exhale. "You're one man. One person. You can't fix everything, and you shouldn't have to."
"You're right, of course," I mumble and press my lips into her hair. She smells so good. Even with the sparse body care options, she just smells like her.
"That's for me to do," she mumbles somewhere in my armpit. I huff out a chuckle and trail my fingers down her arm.