47. Luna
Luna
The scent of gunpowder and blood thickens the air, clinging to my skin like a second layer. The room is a graveyard of bodies—the aftermath of my rage staining the walls, the floors—me.
Damn, I got a little carried away.
Heavy boots pound down the hallway, each step louder, closer, heavier. My muscles tense, ready for another fight. But before I can turn?—
Angel bursts through the doorway.
Not just Angel.
Angel—drenched in blood.
Not a little.
Drenched.
She plants her hands on her hips, her chest rising and falling as she scans the carnage with a look that screams, This is exactly what I expected.
"Finally," she huffs, flicking a piece of flesh from her sleeve. "I found you."
I blink at her, stunned. "Angel?"
Her dark eyes flick to me, scanning for injuries before she exhales in relief.
"You look like shit," she mutters.
I scoff, wiping the blood from my mouth. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demand, stepping toward her, ignoring the sharp pull of fresh wounds on my body. "Who’s watching Aria?"
Angel rolls her eyes, wiping at her cheek, which only smears the blood further.
"Relax, it’s Lamar’s weekend."
I stare.
"Lamar?"
My overly responsible, history-obsessed brother?
Angel smirks. "Yeah, he’s probably giving her a full-on lecture about Reconstruction Era politics while she plots our deaths for making her sit through it."
I groan, rubbing my temples. "Great. She’s going to hate us."
"Yeah, but she’ll survive."
Before I can respond, a sharp curse cuts through the air.
Isabella storms into the room, her green eyes slicing through the wreckage like a blade.
Her gaze sweeps the mess—the scattered bodies, the blood pooling on the floor— before locking onto Sarah’s barely conscious form.
"Tell me she’s still breathing, Luna,” she orders, her voice like a gun cocking.
Raven crouches beside Sarah, fingers pressing against her pulse. "Alive," she confirms flatly. "Barely."
"Good," Isabella mutters, standing over Sarah’s wrecked body, voice clipped and cold. "She’s coming with us. She has a lot to answer for."
I wipe at the blood smeared across my lips, my voice low and deadly.
"What about Eric?"
Angel snorts. "Ran the second shit went sideways. Didn’t even hesitate."
I grit my teeth, the taste of copper thick on my tongue. "Coward."
"He won’t get far," Isabella murmurs. Her eyes drop to Sarah’s wrecked form, filled with nothing but disgust.
“I take it that’s how our base of operations got leaked?” she says.
I step closer, my voice a whisper of steel.
“Sarah was on the city council in NYC. One of the ones we were looking for, but we dismissed the connection because she was tied to us. Now?” I crouch beside her, staring into her swollen, barely conscious face.
"She’s another dead woman walking."
I stand, turning to Isabella.
"We should make her an example in front of the entire EAO. Public execution."
Angel lets out a low whistle. "Damn, Luna. That’s kind of cold, don’t you think?"
I was going to suggest dissembling her piece by piece while she’s alive, but I believe that’s just my adrenaline talking.
Raven crosses her arms, shaking her head. "It should be. She wanted power, and look where it got her."
Thank you, Raven.
A heavy silence falls over the room.
Because this isn’t just about Sarah.
If they could turn her, then who else could they turn?
This isn’t just war anymore. It’s infiltration.
And no one is untouchable.
A familiar presence shifts beside me.
Vladimir.
His hands—rough, strong, trembling—cup my face like he’s scared I’ll shatter beneath his touch. He tilts my chin up, his fingers brushing over every bruise and cut like memorizing proof that I’m still here.
His blue eyes—usually glacial, ruthless—are entirely new.
Raw. Unraveling. Terrified.
His thumb skims over my busted lip, his jaw clenching so tight I swear I hear his teeth crack.
He doesn’t speak.
He just exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a lifetime. His forehead presses against mine, his hands trailing down my arms like he needs to feel every inch of me, anchor himself to my pulse.
"Vlad," I whisper.
He swallows hard, voice cracking as it breaks free. "I thought I lost you."
The words punch straight through me like a blade.
I crash into him, throwing my arms around his neck and burying myself in his chest like it’s the only safe place left in the world. He clutches me like a man on the edge of madness, breath ragged, heart racing.
BANG!
Pain detonates in my stomach—hot, sharp, blinding. My knees buckle as fire rips through my side, and I clutch his suit with trembling hands.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think—just pain.
Vladimir roars, catching me before I hit the ground.
Gunfire erupts. Screams. Chaos.
I blink through the blur, trying to focus?—
And I see him.
Eugene.
Slumped. Bleeding. Smirking like the twisted piece of shit he is.
He hisses, “You thought you could escape me? I will never allow you to love anyone else.”
Vladimir stills. His voice goes low. Lethal. "You."
Eugene smiles like he thinks he’s won. "I should’ve finished you off when I had the chance. But watching you lose her? That’ll be better. Don’t worry; I’ll care for her in hell."
Vladimir lifts his weapon?—
But I beat him to it.
I launch forward with the last surge of strength, tackling Eugene to the floor.
I don’t hesitate.
I become fury.
Fists. Elbows. Rage. My entire body is a weapon forged from years of pain, betrayal, and survival. I strike with the precision of a soldier but the fury of a woman who’s been silenced, hunted, and hurt.
And then I pull my blade.
Slash.
"I’m—"
Slash.
"Fucking tired?—"
Slash.
"Of men like you thinking they can break women and walk away!"
Slash.
"Of being hunted like prey!"
Slash.
"Of waking up every goddamn day and carrying the weight of what you did to me!"
With a feral scream, I make one final stroke across his throat and watch the light fade from his eyes.
He gurgles on his blood, choking.
I lean in, my voice shaking but steel. Cold. Final.
"Even your death will be as meaningless as your pathetic life. I want my face to be the last thing you see in this lifetime—because in the next, my soul will haunt yours."
And then?—
He’s gone.
He’s finally gone.
I try to stand, but my body gives out. This time, Vladimir barely catches me.
"LUNA!"
My hands tremble. My breaths are shallow. Sharp. Ragged.
Oh fuck, I don’t think I feel very good right now.
His hands press hard against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but we both know it’s too much.
"Stay with me, Lisichka. Stay with me," Vladimir pleads, voice cracked open by fear.
I try to keep my eyes open and focus, but everything is blurring, spinning, and slipping away.
"Vlad—"
His voice turns frantic. Desperate. That unshakeable calm he always wears? Gone.
“GET HER TO A HOSPITAL! NOW!” Isabella’s voice slices through the chaos like a bullet, sharp and unrelenting.
Vladimir doesn’t hesitate.
“AMANI, RAVEN—CAR. MOVE!”
Raven darts for the keys. Amani’s already at the driver’s side, swinging the door open with shaking hands.
Angel grabs the med kit and climbs into the back. “Put her in the truck, now!”
Vladimir scoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing, sprinting.
The back of the armored vehicle swings open.
“DRIVE!” Angel screams.
Amani floors the gas. The tires shriek as we peel out onto the road.
Raven’s already barking into her phone, voice steel-sharp. “This is an emergency code red. EAO priority. Clear the ER. We’re twenty minutes out.”
Vlad holds me in his lap, one arm braced under my shoulders, the other hand pressed hard against the wound in my side.
"Don’t you fucking dare," he growls, more to the universe than me. "Don’t you dare leave me."
Angel tears into the med kit, yanking out gauze and clamps. “Keep pressure—more! We’re losing her!”
My breaths are shallow. Labored. I can’t keep my eyes open.
Everything hurts, but it’s not sharp anymore.
It’s fading.
My pulse flutters.
And I know.
I don’t have much time.
I lift trembling fingers to Vladimir’s face, brushing his jaw.
“Please…” I whisper, “Take care of Nova for me. Don’t let her think I left without saying goodbye.”
“No. Don’t do this. Don’t fucking talk like this!” Raven screams from the front.
“I just…” I breathe, my voice trembling, “wanted to say thank you. For loving me… for wanting me. For giving me something real.”
Vlad shakes his head, eyes wild. “Stop it. You don’t get to say goodbye.”
I smile, barely.
“Hey…”
My voice breaks, but I keep going.
“I’ve had worse. Like the time I got stabbed in the thigh and Amani screamed about her shoes.”
A hoarse laugh escapes him—half sob, half broken breath.
“You’re bleeding out, Luna.”
“Yeah… I noticed,” I rasp.
My hand slips down, weak. “You have to let me go now.”
“No,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I just got you back. You don’t get to leave me now.”
I summon everything I have left.
“I love you, Vladimir,” I say, soft but clear.
His breath shatters. He forgets to breathe.
“I think I fell in love with you the day I threw my blade at your leg.”
His grip on me tightens.
“You were right,” I say, my eyes fluttering closed. “Love and hate… it is a thin line. And I—I walked it straight to you.”
He pulls me tighter against his chest.
“You don’t get to say that now,” he whispers, voice ragged. “Not like this.”
I force one last smile.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Bad timing’s kind of my thing.”
And just like that… the cold starts to take me.
Vladimir’s voice fades into the distance as everything goes black.
And then?—
Another voice, deep and haunting, slices through the dark.
“Luna, my daughter… it’s good to see how much you’ve grown.”
My breath catches. I can’t move. I can’t speak.
But I know that voice.
Dad?