Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
GHOST
Brett is here. Here, looking at me with those worried blue eyes—eyes that hold so much sorrow. So much pain.
I want to reach out, reach inside her mind and tear out whatever revelation is causing it. I want to hold her soft, tearstained cheeks in my palms and tell her everything is okay. I’m making it okay. When this is all over, there won’t be a thing left in this city to harm her. I’m going to burn it all down—taking all the rot, all the disease with me.
For her. It’s always been for her.
I think back to a decade ago, when my control slipped for the very first time. She had no idea of my existence back then—how could she? But I knew her. And I knew the men who kidnapped and tortured her mother, the same ones I spent the last decade tracking down and killing.
Because helping Maverick track down Hudson and the other men who killed her mother wasn’t enough. Killing her foster father ten years ago wasn't enough. Drugging him the night she turned sixteen so he wouldn’t try any shit wasn’t enough, and neither was kidnapping him the day after on his morning hike. Torturing him and shoving his disgusting cock down this throat wasn't enough. Leaving his rotting, maggot-ridden corpse for the cops to find wasn’t enough.
I’ve always wanted to protect her. Even before I knew her, I wanted to take away her pain. Something inside me always drew me to her light, that little brilliance hidden behind enough darkness that no one even knew it was there. But it’s a marvelous light, the most rare kind of beauty. And now that it’s a part of me, I cannot be rid of it. Would never want to be.
And now she’s here. For me. She’s choosing… me.
I’m broken from my thoughts as Brett charges forward, seemingly in slow motion. Her mouth is opening wordlessly, her eyes big and wild with terror. And then I see it.
Madam’s second tiger, its cruel yellow eyes staring into my soul as it lowers to the ground, every muscle in its body poised to launch. A blink later, and it’s sailing through the air, those terrible clawed paws outstretched toward my chest, canines widening to fit around my throat.
I can’t move, and I can’t look away. Dread replaces that electricity in my veins, and I cast one last glance toward Brett, watching her heart rip in two as that great beast closes in on me. I’m so focused on memorizing her features that I don’t notice the small black cat squeezing out of one of Rupert's saddlebags.
No one notices, not even when the angry fuzz ball flies across the room, his minuscule arms outstretched with murderous intent. The tiger is feet from me when Venom lands with a yowl on the back of the tiger’s neck, sinking his canines into its collar before Nix has a chance to shake him off.
Its baser instincts take over, and the tiger twists midair as it refocuses its attention to the thing latched onto its neck, desperate to dislodge the ferocious black housecat. Due to the awkward twisting, the tiger veers off-course at the last second, landing on its side a few feet away from me. A moment later, the tiger rights itself, but instead of lunging for me again, its nose scrunches with a vicious snarl, and it swipes a paw over its shoulder, trying to hit Venom.
“ VENOM!” Brett screams, changing course and racing toward the brawling cats. Before she makes it halfway, one of the table members lunges forward, gripping her by the elbow and hauling her back.
My vision swims in red as I race toward Brett and the Table member, my dagger poised at the level of his throat. I watch as he tries to draw his own dagger from his pocket, and knowing I’m still too far away to get a direct hit in, I launch my blade across the room, refusing to stop until I get to Brett. My dagger lands square in his forehead with a satisfying shunk, and as soon as Brett shoves the man back, his body collapses to the floor. Without so much as a glance behind her, she races forward toward the cats, her expression telling me she’s willing to fight the thing off with her bare hands if she must.
But then, the strangest thing happens: the tiger begins to vibrate . Those bright yellow eyes roll back as tremors wrack its huge body, the snow-white hair sticking straight up like it just got shocked with a bolt of electricity.
“Oh my God,” Brett whispers, lowering her arms as the tiger slumps to the floor with a mighty thud, its pink tongue lolling to the hardwood as its life leaves its body. At the back of its neck sits Venom, his pointy canines digging deep into the tigers electric collar, clearly unaffected by the jolt that sent the poor beast to an early grave. Venom’s angry yowls mingle with the Madams screams, reverberating off the stone walls in a macabre symphony.
“My babies!” Madam wails, falling to her knees as tears well in the eye slits of her elaborate gold mask. “Look what you’ve done!” she screeches, crawling to her fallen tiger. She looks wildly at each of the statuesque Table members, all too terrified to make the first move.
“Kill them!” she screams, pointing a shaking toward me, then Brett. “ Someone fucking kill them! ”
I look at Brett’s pale face, at the raw determination set in her delicate features. She’s already been through so much—I refuse to let any of these people take her life.
“That will not be happening,” I snarl, adjusting my grip on the dagger as I stare each one of them down. “You touch her, you die. You look at her, you die. Think about her? Guess what?” I launch my blade across the room, taking out another Table member with ease. “You fucking die.”
My body moves before I know what I’m doing. My attacks are so methodical, so furious, that they’re almost inhuman—a concentrated flurry of twists, blows, and slices that are delivered without an ounce of remorse. Brett stands frozen as I mow through each of the Table members in seconds, red pools of blood spilling across the floor and soaking the carpet in a deep maroon with each body I add to the circle.
To my amazement, the Madam doesn’t move as it’s happening, just sits with her face in her hands, her shoulders wracked with sobs for her fallen tigers. The sight is depressing, though I don’t feel bad for her in the slightest. I certainly feel bad for the beasts she taught to have a taste for human flesh, but for her, I harbor nothing but contempt. It creeps down to my marrow, infecting every cell in my body until the fire consumes me. I want to hurt her. I want to kill her.
As I’m drawing my knife over the last Table member's throat, I look up and see Brett lining up the barrel of a gun she must have found on the floor. She holds the tip of my barrel level to the Madam’s head, taking a steadying breath with her finger tightening on the trigger. I see the through pass in her eyes. How easy it would be to take the shot and end this. So, so easy…
Her index finger tightens to the point of no return, and just before the shot fires off, a scream breaks the air. Except, this time, it’s coming from me.
“Brett, NO! ”
But it’s too late, and the bullet is on its trajectory, right toward the Madam’s skull. Like she has some kind of freaky sixth sense, the Madam dives to the side right as that trigger clicks, and her bullet lodges into the floor inches from where Madam’s head just was. She springs to her feet with an inhuman snarl and races forward with her red claws stretched toward Brett’s throat.
Brett tries to fire off another shot, but Madam is too close, and the bullet whizzes right past her shoulder. Madam knocks the gun out of Brett’s hand with a quick strike to the pressure point on her wrist, and in the next moment, she crouches low, sweeping her leg under Brett’s feet and sending her body careening backward to the floor.
I race forward as she slams into the ground, the sound of the breath leaving her lungs, taking all the oxygen out of mine. I’m still too far away, and I watch helplessly as the Madam’s hands wrap around Brett’s neck and squeeze .
“If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” she snarls, a manic sheen in her bright green eyes. “You useless, horrible little brat. All you had to do was die, and none of this would have happened! I am the queen, dammit! I am the ruler of this city! I am your god, you ungrateful little cunt,” she spits, her voice raising an octave as her madness takes hold. Her crazed laugh bounces off the walls as Brett’s face purples. She kicks and fights against the Madam’s hold, but she’s far too strong—almost as strong as me, for fuck’s sake—and there’s no way for her to break free.
“And you—” Her voice cracks as her hands tighten. “You are the fucking worm beneath my shoe. And now, you are going to die?—”
The Madam’s voice is cut off with a horrible squelch, and Brett watches with wide eyes as the tip of my dagger presses through the center of her throat. Beads of rubies pill at the edges of the wound, and when I yank the blade back, a waterfall of red rains down on her, some of it unfortunately trailing into her nose and mouth.
Brett chokes on the warm red as she scurries out from underneath a dying, gasping Madam, taking in choking lungfuls of her own needed oxygen.
“ Brett darling,” I whisper, taking my face between his hands and attempting to wipe the red away as best I can. “Darling, talk to me. Can you breathe?”
She nods, but is still unable to speak, and I pull her gently into my chest, breathing in a deep, calming breath of her scent.
“Come on, beautiful,” I whisper, cradling her against my chest as I stand. The Madam is gasping on the ground, horrible wet gurgling noises pouring from the hold in her throat. I notice Brett looking, and I grip her chin, forcing her eyes away from the scene.
“Don’t watch,” I murmur, making sure her eyes are locked one me instead of the horrible sight at my feet. “She’ll be dead soon enough.”
Brett nods, casting her gaze toward Venom, who is settling into one of the pockets in Rupert's knapsack. As soon as the little cat is secure, Rupert follows me out of the room, his nails clicking against the floor with each step. I pull Brett impossibly tight to my chest, using my body to block the carnage in the room from her sight as I step through the golden doorway and toward the maze of tunnels.
“ Ghost. ”
I’m ducking through the opening as her tinkling voice breaks out, and I stop short, examining her expression for any sign of discomfort .
“It’s good to hear your voice again, darling,” I murmur. “Are you in pain?”
She shakes her head, but I don’t miss the slight wince at the corner of her eye from the movement. I’m sure her throat is killing her—the sooner I get her to a doctor, the better.
With one last lingering glance, I hurry past the mouth of the tunnel, having to look away to focus on my footing in the dim passageway. I normally wouldn’t have to, but there’s a fuzziness growing in the corners of my vision, causing me to stumble every step or two.
About halfway down the first stretch, I come across Kain’s and Maverick’s slumped forms, and for a horrible moment, I think they’re both dead. Rupert lets out a low whine, pressing his nose against my leg as he mirrors my concern. But then Kain raises his head, a familiar glare finding me in the shadows.
“Took your ass long enough.”
“I’m happy to see you too, old friend,” I murmur, snapping an arm against the wall to steady myself when I stupidly try to put my weight on my right side. “Maverick…?”
Kain looks at the slumped figure at his side, and his only answer is a slight shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Ghost. ”
I take a breath, a strange swirl of emotions rattling my chest wall. Ever since I was a child, I always viewed Maverick as this indomitable force—more idea than man. And yeah, he was a sadistic piece of shit, but he certainly wasn’t the worst of them.
Crouching with Brett carefully stabilized in my arms, I palm the cracked black mask lying inches from Maverick’s head. A mask he wore for so many years—a mask that became part of him. In the end, he cast it aside. In the end, he decided to give himself for something more—something selfless. And for that, I think I almost respect him.
“You will not be forgotten, brother,” I whisper, placing the mask delicately over his chest—right where his beating heart would be.
Silence greets me as I stand back up, broken a moment later by the sound of footfalls drawing nearer through the tunnels. Kain and I tense at the same moment, our hands slipping to our weapons in case we need to make a last stand.
Through the shadows, I start to make out a figure. His frame is lanky, and the closer he gets, I can make out strands of wild black hair hanging over a piercing pair of sky-blue eyes.
“ Orion, ” I whisper, nearly collapsing in relief as his telltale smirk becomes clear. “I was about to kill you.”
“I’d like to have seen you try, old man,” Orion jeers, stopping a few feet from Kain. He rakes a hand through his hair, a satisfied grin splitting his lips. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“For?”
“Saving the day.” Orion rolls his eyes. “Brett didn’t tell you how I totally ran down and?—?”
“We’ll have all the time in the world to discuss this when we get home.” I interrupt, blinking away a fresh wave of dizziness. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“No fucking fun,” Orion grumbles, stooping and lending an arm to help Kain stand. Reluctantly, Kain accepts, throwing a burly arm over Orion's shoulder. I worry Kain’s weight will crush the boy, but Orion remains surprisingly steady as he helps Kain hobble down the tunnel.
We make it through the tunnels and out into the red velvet-lined hallway without any issues, but when we’re halfway down the first service stairwell, another wave of vertigo nearly sends me reeling to my death. I grip the railing like it’s my lifeline, the other arm clutching Brett to me so hard I’m sure I’m hurting her. But I can’t loosen my grip. If I let go even a little bit, I know there will be nothing standing between me and oblivion.
We’re halfway down the first golden corridor when I realize I’m limping. I cast a glance behind me, noticing several puddles of blood staining the luxurious golden floors. It’s a thick dark red—and I’m no fucking doctor, but I know losing that much blood this quickly can not be good.
“Ghost?” Brett’s voice is laced with concern, but I can’t look at her. I have to keep moving forward. If I stop, I die. And I don’t want to fucking die yet.
Brett slaps her hand against my chest in an attempt to gain my attention. “Ghost, put me down.”
“Mhwy push yew dowhn?” I frown at my strange-sounding speech, willing my tongue to do anything other than lie heavy at the bottom of my mouth. “Iem fineee.”
My steps slow as the room spins in and out of focus, and I catch Brett gazing at the puddle of blood forming beneath my right leg.
“Ghost? Ghost, what’s wrong?” she cries, wriggling against my hold with an animalistic desperation. I try to fight her, but I’m far too weak, and she slips from my arms at the same time my knees slam to the ground with a mighty crack .
I reach for Brett as the room slips to the side, uselessly swiping the air as the rest of my body collapses in a heap. Labored gasps rattle through my voice mod, and I’m suddenly overcome with claustrophobia, needing nothing more at this moment than to get the horrible metal off my skin.
“ Ghost!” Orion and Kain shout in unison, sounding much too far away to make sense. I’m a thousand feet underground, a new shovel of dirt covering my grave with each passing second.
I’m vaguely aware of Orion saying something about going to check Maverick’s body for something to help me. I want to tell him it’s useless—that there never was hope for me, and nothing has changed. But I’m too weak to tell him this, and in the next minute, his footsteps disappear in the direction we just came from.
“Ghost! Talk to me!” Brett demands, taking my masked face between her hands, only to rip it off a moment later. “Ghost, where are you hurting?” She asks, cursing as soon as the question sounds. Realizing I wouldn’t know where.
“I’m gonna have to tear your clothes to find it, okay?” She asks, probably more to keep herself calm than actually inform me of what she’s doing.
“Stay awake, okay?” Her voice trembles as she begins ripping my pants apart from the base. When she gets to my thigh, the blood flows faster, and a gasp pours from her throat as she takes in the seriousness of the injury. Blood shoots from the wound with every beat of my heart, soaking my clothes and covering Brett’s hands as she desperately tries to stanch the bleeding.
Realizing it’s doing nothing, she sits back with a scream, tears pouring down her cheeks as the last spark of hope leaves her lovely blue eyes.
“ Brett,” I whisper, using the last of my strength to call her to me. “ Brett, come here. Don’t be afraid.”
She scootches up toward my head, pulling me into her lap.
“Ghost,” she whispers, voice cracking painfully. “Ghost, you have to hold on. Orion will find us soon. Someone will?—”
“ Brett, ” I insist, cutting off whatever lie she was going to say next. “ Brett, I’m dying. ”
“N–no you’re not!” she screams, her mind refusing to believe it. “You’re going to make it! We’re both going to make it.” Those twinkling sapphires take me in, expecting me to say something reassuring—to tell her I’m going to fight. That I’ll be okay.
But I just shake my head. “Brett darling, could you please take off my mask? I’d like… I’d like to look at you one last time, if that’s okay.”
I close my eyes, resting my head on the pavement as her fingertips curl around my mask, prying it gently from my face. Light, beautiful sunlight shines on my face as I gaze up at her—the woman who breathed life into these tired bones. Who showed me what it is to feel and be happy when I believed I had lost the capacity.
She looks sad. So, so sad. She shouldn’t look this sad, not when the sun shines so beautifully on her raven hair.
“Brett,” I whisper. “Sweet, darling Brett.”
I expect her to pull me into her embrace, but to my surprise, she grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Don’t you say that!” she yells. “Don’t you dare call me sweet! You get up, and you fight! You get up, and you fight for me, dammit! For us! ”
I remember the words I told her so long ago—how I would only tell her she was sweet on my deathbed. God, how I wish it weren’t the case.
“As you wish,” I whisper, an ironic smile twisting my mouth. I want to tell her—tell her it’s going to be okay. That this isn’t goodbye. That I’ll find her in the next life, and the next. That I’ll tear down cities for a single moment, a mere glance from her beautiful ocean eyes .
That I will love her. That I have loved her. Throughout this life, the last, and the next. Tears are streaming down her beautiful, soft cheeks, and I want so badly to reach up. To wipe them away, or to fill my mouth with her taste, like I have so many times before. But I don't have the strength. Nor the time.
“You have made me… so happy.” I cough, finding it hard to talk through the blood filling my lungs. “Happier than I should have been. Happier than I ever deserved. You gave me… you gave me everything , Brett. I wish…” I take a breath, wishing more than anything I could hold her one last time. Wishing I could kiss her beautiful raven hair or touch her lovely pink lips. Wishing more than anything that I could tell her that.
“I wish… I could have returned the favor.”
As the last word passes my lips, the darkness swallows me whole.