Chapter 29 #3
“Kill him,” General Markos ordered with no emotion.
Sucking in air, everything went in slow motion, their guns rising higher. I waited for the sear of the bullets. The moment they would shred me apart and life would no longer be.
“Noooooo!” A cry hollowed through the bunker, snapping every head in the direction of the voice.
Birdie stood only a yard from us, her cry echoing over her face. My eyes latched on to hers, seeing the fear and panic.
Guns whipped to her, about to shoot at the new threat.
Emotion I had never experienced before flooded me and made me want to run straight to her, wrap her up, and take us far from here.
Keep her safe. Not that she needed anyone to protect her.
I had learned she could hold her own against the most daunting fae.
The impulse wasn’t about saving her . . . it was about saving me.
I didn’t know exactly how I felt about her; I just didn’t want this to be the end. I wanted more time.
The terror dissolved from her face, her eyes narrowing, her mouth moving, screaming something to me that looked like “run.”
It was the only warning I got before everything went to hell once again, exploding in our faces, twisting us up in the air and flinging us around like dolls.
The bombs out here weren’t planned to go off this soon. We were supposed to be far from here.
Cause chaos.
Distraction.
Though nothing ever went according to plan with this group.
This time I felt the explosions through every bone in my body, firing off like an endless stream of fireworks, flinging me back into the iron door, my head cracking back, my eyesight blurring.
The bombs they placed around the space blew up huge sections of crates filled with pills and ammo, a.k.a. gunpowder. It sparked more blasts as the two met, weakening the already old bunker. Pieces of it started to topple from the walls and ceiling.
“Caden!” Birdie’s cry slapped me out of my stupor, spurring me to move. Scrambling up, I darted past the slew of guards, all sprawled over the ground, confused but rising to their feet.
“Caden, come on!” Birdie waved me to her, her hand threading through mine when I reached out to her. She looked up, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw something in them before her brow furrowed again, her hand tugging me, her tiny body yanking me forward.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots volleyed all around us, our bodies diving behind a group of crates near the train. Killian and Rosie were there, firing back. Eli, Ember, and Wesley were firing from crates close to us.
“Where are the others?” Killian asked between shots. Birdie yanked out an extra gun and tossed it to me.
“I don’t know. I separated from them.” I shot back at the guards. “But I know they are alive.” It was just something I knew. Warwick was alive. And for once, I was grateful for the connection, to feel his presence in this building.
Metal groaned from the ceiling, a huge piece dropping on a jeep, crushing it. More started to peel away, like dominos.
“We need to get the hell out of here. Now,” Birdie insisted.
I couldn’t have agreed more, and we weren’t the only ones who thought the same thing.
The train’s whistle screamed through the building, steam pooling out of the tunnel as it moved out, the conductors forgoing any orders and saving themselves.
Officers blasted at us, their bodies huddling around someone as they headed toward an armored truck, trying to get their leader out safely.
“Fuck. No,” I grunted, rising. I couldn’t let him escape.
“Caden!” I didn’t stop as Birdie yelled for me, my gun up, already firing as they shoved him in the passenger seat, slamming the door.
Another part of the bunker ceiling crashed down, shrieking like a dying animal.
“Go! Go!” The brown-haired guard jumped in the back, waving for the driver to pull out. Tires squealed, reversing, about to pull out. I didn’t care the windows were bulletproof, I continued to fire at the same spot, unloading my Glock until it ticked empty.
The passenger side window rolled down, my father’s eyes meeting mine. I saw nothing there. I was a stranger. Something easily discarded.
He pointed a gun at me. I stared at him. Waiting for him to just do it. I would not give him the courtesy of looking away or cowering. If he was going to kill me, I was going to look him dead in the eyes as he did.
His gaze slid from me to something right behind me, anger locking down his jaw before a vindictive smirk arched his lips.
Bang! The gun fired.
I waited to feel pain or for my body to at least react, but there was nothing.
A hitched cry came from behind me, and the sound of a body hitting the ground spun me around.
Everything bottomed out. My entire world felt like it was ripped out from under me. Laying on the ground, gasping for breaths, blood pooled around her.
“Birdie!” I bellowed, dropping to my knees, panic taking over. I could hear the truck peel out, my father escaping, but I no longer cared.
The only thing that mattered was her.
My father knew that.
That’s why he shot her, not me.
He wanted me to watch her die.