Chapter 50
“If a situation arises in which there are civilian casualties, negative outcomes, or unfortunate repercussions to a Warden’s actions, you will contact your regional office’s PEC personnel immediately.”
Entity Employee Handbook: HR Edition
Alexys pushed herself to her feet, wavering and unsteady. She wasn’t sure if she should move to protect Nic from Silas’s bloody rampage or somehow stand her ground. Her hands shook violently. The muscles of her thighs quivered as if begging her to give in to her instincts and flee.
Silas took steady, measured steps toward her. The soaked dagger glistened in the lamplight.
She couldn’t find the strength to run. Alexys couldn’t even breathe as Silas finally stopped in front of her. They stood nearly toe-to-toe, and she tilted her head back to look up at him.
That horrible smile, far too big for a human mouth and full of razor-edged teeth, still cut across his lips. Up close, Alexys could see the speckles of blood on his face like murderous freckles.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” His voice was laced with humor. “I believe that’s customary after saving a person’s life.”
She looked to the bodies behind him. Eight people. Perhaps not innocent, but still human beings. All slaughtered for her sake.
Alexys vomited onto Silas’s shoes.
Silas grimaced and took a careful step back from the mess, but the damage to his footwear was already done. “Well, that wasn’t quite the gesture of gratitude I had in mind.”
“Oh God.” She wasn’t sure if the words were from the carnage or puking on Silas’s shoes. “Oh God.”
“Is that really all you have to say?” Silas looked put out. Did he expect some sort of trophy for committing such an atrocity?
“Silas, you …” Alexys felt bile rise up in her throat again. She couldn’t say it. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tried to forget the gruesome sight and work through the nausea.
The biting cold of Silas’s fingertips brushed her cheek. Alexys jerked back, and her eyes snapped open.
“Is squeamishness common in your line of work?”
“I don’t know, but murder isn’t!”
“I find that hard to believe. Would you like to waste my time debating the moral implications of sacrificing murderers, or would you like me to save him?”
Fear seized her so ferociously that her vision wavered.
Alexys spun on her heel and rushed back to Nic’s side, dropping to her knees despite the painful scrapes still burning her skin.
She raised her hands to touch him but then stilled.
Her trembling hands were caked in blood.
It was beginning to dry on her skin, cracking and pulling.
It was thick under her fingernails and soaked into her clothes.
His sweater was matted and ruined. She couldn’t touch him.
“Don’t worry, darlin’.” Silas knelt down next to Alexys. He still managed to tower over her. “I can take it from here.”
Alexys sat back and watched Silas carefully. She knew she couldn’t stop him from harming Nic if that’s what he chose to do, but she watched him warily nonetheless.
She honestly expected magic. Sparks, color, anything really, but there was nothing.
One moment, Nic was lying on the collapsed altar looking a moment away from death.
The next, Silas was rising to his feet and walking away.
She lifted her head to ask where he was going and demand he actually do something when Nic took a deep, rattling breath, and his eyes snapped open.
A whimper broke free past her lips. “Nic?”
Seeing him alive rendered her brain useless. One moment Alexys was checking to make sure he was breathing, the next she was pulling his face up to meet hers.
The kiss was breathless.
Alexys cradled Nic’s face, scared to hold him too tightly but too afraid to let go. She was so overwhelmed by him being alive, that she couldn’t help but cling to him. Her palms warmed as his face regained some of its color and life.
Nic groaned, and her eyes flew open.
Mortified by what she’d done, she pulled away. She let go of his face, leaving smears of blood behind, and tried to busy herself with checking his chest for any signs of a wound from the knife of which she found none. Only a thin, pale scar where the knife had been.
Nic groaned again, louder this time, and pressed a hand against hers. He held it firmly to his chest and sat up slowly. His movements were stiff but alive. His skin was still pale but alive. Nic turned to look at her, and Alexys broke.
The devastation of his appearance shattered the high of seeing him awake. A hollowness cracked open her chest, and everything else fell away. Nic almost died because of her, and now, Nic was alive because she’d allowed Silas to kill all those people. He would never forgive her for it.
She pulled her hands away and sat back on her heels.
“Alexys.” Nic’s voice was raw. He pushed himself upright, grimacing at the feeling of his blood-soaked clothing. His curls were matted with it, sticking up at odd angles and plastered to his neck. He looked at her with concern, with confusion.
“Are you alright?” he breathed.
“You almost …” Her sentence trailed off as she swallowed painfully against the desert of her throat. It ached from all the screaming she’d done. Felt like she’d swallowed shards of glass while others were stabbing at the backs of her eyes. “You were so pale, and you …”
Nic pressed a hand to his chest, the once white shirt soaked nearly black with blood.
“But … I didn’t.” He spoke with awe. He looked around the room, taking in the wreckage around them. “What happened?”
Alexys looked to see if Silas was willing to explain what she couldn’t, but the man was gone. He’d left her with a mess and an impossible tale, the only reminder of their deal lingered in the frozen ache of her fingertips. “Silas,” she managed to whisper. “It was Silas.”
The relief at being able to even say his name was enough to make her shoulders sag.
“Silas?” Nic caught her eye, and the concern Alexys found there made her heart ache.
She didn’t deserve it.
“He saved us. He killed everyone, he saved you from dying.” She couldn’t talk about their deal.
Not because some magic held her tongue but because her guilt swallowed the words before she could speak them.
She couldn’t tell him those deaths were on her hands.
She couldn’t bear to see the betrayal and judgment she knew it would bring.
Alexys felt along Nic’s chest with featherlight fingers to check for the knife wound she already knew to be gone, just to make sure it had truly vanished.
“Are you hurt?”
Nic grabbed hold of her hand and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he lied. “The bleeding stopped, and it doesn’t hurt.”
She squeezed his hand and fought to keep a new wave of relieved tears at bay. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt? You lost a lot blood, and Silas—”
“Can we …” He lurched to his feet, swaying and still horribly pale. “Can we talk about it later? I’d like to—” He coughed. “I’d like to get out of here.”
Eager to do just that, Alexys stood and helped steady Nic. Slowly, they made their way out of the cave and left the ruins of the altar behind them.