Chapter 38 Cassian
CASSIAN
We’re not wholly outnumbered, and the soldiers Malek is counting as loyal to him aren’t, not like mine are to me. The families that once were loyal to Alaric Moretti, maybe even Michael Moretti, don’t feel the same alliance to Malek Lombardi. Malek underestimated the value of blood to our families.
Jet fights alongside my men. We do battle, chaos raging all around us, the tang of blood heavy beneath the stench of gunpowder. Death. Death. It is what I deal in. It is what I live.
My men hold the line, providing cover when I see the side entrance to the lake house. Allegra is inside. Upstairs. I don’t know where Malek is, but I do know that house is a trap. I know, but when I see that door, I have no choice.
“Cassian!” Jet calls out over the sound of gunfire. He knows what I’m going to do. “Don’t!”
“Cover me!” I call out. I crouch and run for it and when bullets fly overhead, I manage to dodge them.
Luck. That’s all. Fucking luck. I near the door and aim my weapon at the padlock sealing it.
I fire and it breaks. More bullets are fired as I remove what’s left of the lock and push inside, taking quick inventory and rolling behind a decrepit couch as a bullet hits its mark, sending me down, knocking the gun from my hand.
Three men at the front windows, two doing battle with those outside, one turned toward me, shooting as he approaches.
I stay low and I watch from below the couch, my heart pounding against my chest, my arm throbbing with the pain of the bullet. I watch his footsteps near and reach for the weapon with my bad arm, pushing through the pain because if I don’t, I’m dead. If I die, she will die too.
I reach it just as he is one more step from the couch and I fire low.
He’s knocked off his feet, dropping to the floor.
His face comes into view at the same time as his gun.
But I’m ready for him and I shoot my bullet through his eyes which don’t close.
They remain as they are, open, soulless in life, soulless in death.
I push up to take in the other two soldiers.
One calls out to his dead buddy. As soon as he turns, I shoot a bullet into his face sending the back of his head crashing against the window, splattering his brains across the wall.
I get to my feet, do the same with the other soldier.
Battle rages outside of the house. No more soldiers in here, though. No one left.
My arm throbs. The bullet is lodged inside.
I feel it. But it’s not a killing shot. I look at the stairs.
She’s up there. She’s up there with Malek or Enzo or both and there’s only one way up, so I take it.
I keep close to the wall, trying to see what’s ahead, what I’m walking into.
I see a body, one of my men. I recognize his face.
More bodies. These I don’t know. One more step and I should see her. I should see her.
My heart races. I ready my weapon and prepare for what I might find. Allegra was a target up there. Easier to hit than miss. I have to be ready. But how can you be ready to see the woman you love dead? How can you ever be prepared for that horror?
I lunge up the last steps to take cover behind a short pillar.
Bullets from an automatic rifle shoot at me, but miss and I press my back into the bricks of the half-pillar.
I look back over my shoulder, relieved when I see she’s not up there.
The rope is hanging, but she’s not there. And she’s not on the ground.
“Allegra!” I call out.
Nothing.
“Allegra! Are you here?”
“It’s a trap!” Her voice is clear and she’s alive and the relief I feel makes me suck in a breath, makes my back slump against the wall in relief.
She’s alive.
She’s alive.
“Let her go, Enzo!” I call out because it’s going to be Enzo. I know it. I fucking know it. “Let her fucking go. This is between you and me. It has always been between you and me.” I move, coming out from behind the pillar.
A bullet flies, but I don’t stop. I stand.
“You’re not a coward, Enzo.” I turn to the sandbags. That’s where they are. “Fight me. Fight me fair, cousin. Fight me fair and win your place.”
“Drop your weapons,” Enzo calls out. “Fucking drop them, or my next bullet is for her.”
“Don’t do it!” Allegra calls out.
“I’m putting them down. Don’t fucking hurt her.” I pull the strap of the automatic rifle off and set it at my feet, then do the same with my Glock. I push them away.
Only then does Enzo emerge. Enzo, my cousin, my friend, a man I trusted. A man I defended.
And in front him, pressed to his body, is Allegra. His human shield.
I look her over, see how her wrists are still bound, how one arm is bent at an unnatural angle. See the pain on her face as her chest trembles with her breaths. Her body is bruised, cut. Her face, too. A line carved down one cheek.
Blood is splattered across her stomach, but that’s not hers at least. I meet her eyes. They’re wet as she looks back at me and to see her like this, to see her hurt like this. In pain like this. Broken like this. It makes my heart twist. It makes my gut burn. It makes my hands turn into fists.
I shift my gaze to Enzo’s. “Let her go.”
He walks out around the sandbags, half carrying her when she won’t move.
“Put your hands up,” he says.
I grit my teeth, but when he points the barrel of his weapon at Allegra’s throat, I do it. I raise my arms over my head.
“Let her go, Enzo.” I take a step toward them. “Your fight is with me.”
Enzo’s eyes narrow. “Stop moving. Stay where you are”
I don’t. “Why? Why did you do it? I don’t fucking understand.”
“I said fucking stop moving!” He pushes the barrel so hard under Allegra’s chin that it forces her head backward.
“Fine. I’ve stopped. You were my friend. Tell me why. At least tell me why.”
“There are no friends in our world.”
“Tell me why.”
“You know why. You fucking know why.” I keep my eyes on him, aware of how the sound of bullets has come nearly to a stop. Aware of a figure on the ground with his gun aimed at Enzo’s back.
Jet.
Jet standing among the bodies of the dead.
Jet ready to shoot, but waiting for my word.
“Let her go. You have me.” I lower my arms to undo the bulletproof vest I’m wearing.
All my men are wearing them. Enzo is too.
It’s at least one of the reasons we will come out of this victorious.
If you’re loyal to me, I will be loyal to you.
I will look after you. It’s my promise to my men. Always has been.
“Keep your hands up!”
“Cassian. Don’t. Don’t do it,” Allegra begs, tears streaming down her face. “He’s going to kill you anyway.”
I continue to slip the vest off and I toss it aside because better me than her. Better I die than she dies.
“You have me.” I rip my shirt open, baring my chest. I take another step.
“Stop fucking moving!”
I don’t. “Let her go, Enzo.”
Enzo shifts his weapon so he’s aiming for my heart.
“Cassian, no!” Allegra pleads.
I realize something. I understand it. He’s not going to kill her. He was never going to kill her. He can’t. He needs her alive because he’s simply going to take my place. To force her to marry him to take over both families. Just as I would have, except that I didn’t need to force her.
Except that we fell in love.
Involving Malek? That was just a lucky chance. Malek’s hate of me, Malek’s ambition, it would serve Enzo well. Hell, if Malek killed me, why not? It’d just make Enzo’s path to the throne that much easier.
Malek Lombardi was never the problem.
The problem was in my own house. My own blood.
But none of that matters now. It’s too late now.
“Let her go. I’ll say it just once more,” I say.
“You should have stepped aside, you selfish bastard. To hell with you for making me do this!” Enzo says and I hear the cocking of his weapon.
This is it. I’ll have one chance. But if I miscalculate, if I—
“In pieces, you fucking asshole!” Allegra screams, cutting off my thoughts. She grabs hold of the barrel of the gun, but he manages her easily, turning her so her belly is pressed to his chest, her face crushed against his shirt.
“Allegra no!” I scream, lunging for them.
Before I reach them, the gun goes off and I scream for her as they stumble backward, two steps. Blood. Blood on him. Blood on her. Blood all over her bound arms, her naked stomach, seeping down her leg.
The world goes silent for a split second, time standing still, me mid-air.
Me, too late.
Too fucking late.
I scream her name. I scream it in a voice I don’t recognize.
And I don’t understand why her knees don’t give out. Why her legs don’t sag like his. He drops to his knees and takes her with him, but I don’t understand why she hasn’t fallen until I see what she has in her hands.
Until I see the switchblade I gave him, a gift for his sixteenth birthday. Engraved especially to mark the day.
Enzo looks down at it. I think he realizes what’s happened at the same time as I do. Enzo, confused, looks at the hilt of his own knife sticking out of his stomach. Sees her bound wrists holding it, pressing it, flowing with blood.
His blood. Not hers. His.
He doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that my Little Moth is not a weak thing. She is no victim to be had. She is a violent, powerful thing.
And she’s mine. She’s mine. My love. My heart. My queen.