Chapter 75 Saving My Enemy
Saving My Enemy
SHADOW
Six Years Ago
They moved us from that dingy, dusty warehouse to an abandoned apartment building. My body aches. With every stretch and turn, I reopen wounds littered all over my body. How did I get these? Nothing feels right. I know what I was told but…
The man everyone calls sir, or Byron, hovers over me and hands me the butt of a gun.
“I want you to shoot anyone who comes in here and claims that they’re saving you.
” I look down at the gun he’s holding out.
“They’re our enemies. They tortured you.
We saved you from them, and now, they want you back. ”
I think of the man with the white hair. They strung him up from the beams in the warehouse and cut into his skin with dull knives, shocked and burned him with jumper cables, and slid slivers of metal under his toenails.
He’s a shifter, and yet he didn’t fight back, didn’t transition to fight for his life.
He just hung there and took all that pain.
Not once did he cry out. He never answered their questions, no matter how much they tortured him.
I take the gun from the man’s hand and place it on my lap.
He nods in approval before exiting the room.
Bandages cover my torso. My pants are caked in blood.
I lean forward to get a better view of my feet.
My toenails are missing. Did they really save me from torture, or did they torture me? Why can’t I remember any of it?
A high-pitched, piercing sound echoes in the night outside the window. Gunfire rings through the air. Where is the white-haired man? I’m not sure why I care so much about him, but my instincts shout at me to find him. Protect him. He’s important… important for someone I care about.
Why can’t I remember who it is? I pick up the Glock to check how many bullets the man left me. It’s full. Gingerly I place weight on my feet, testing the pain. It’s tolerable, and I think I can make it out of here to look for the white-haired man.
With slow steps, I pad across the bedroom floor and crack open the door. Holding the gun in front of me, I kick open the door, ready to shoot anyone in the next room. Taking inventory of the small, one-bedroom apartment, I discover that I’m the only one here.
More gunfire and loud explosions rattle the windows. Men shout outside. Hobbling across the room, I press my ear against the door.
“Kill whoever comes to get him. Leave no survivors. I don’t care if they wield magic.” The sound of heavy footfall fades. My heart hammers against my chest. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself.
A sharp pain shoots through my eyes. Magic wielders.
The pain intensifies, forcing me to my knees.
A flurry of images rush to the surface of my mind.
Faceless men punch me, stab me, cut me. Shouting words that I can’t understand, I curl into myself, hugging my knees.
I pray for the pain, the whirlwind of images, to stop.
Toby… Where is my brother, Toby? Please make this stop.
Ringing in my ears overwhelms my senses.
I can’t tell if the room is spinning or if it’s me spinning out of control.
I press my hands to my head and focus on the memories of my brother.
Maybe it’s just an illusion. He stands in the middle of the chaos swirling in my brain.
He’s dressed just as I always remembered him, in navy-blue slacks and a long-sleeved button-down shirt, but his face…
What the hell happened to him? Everything stops. The flurry of images fall away. The room rights itself. The pain vanishes, and the ringing in my ears subsides.
Tyler, get up. You can do this! Get up, and save him. Save Anders and save yourself. These men with the suits are not your allies. They’re our enemies.
I shake my head. No. No! They saved me. They saved me from the magic wielders. No!
Tyler! Listen to me. I don’t have much time! You need to trust me. Find him. Find the guards. Find J—
A thick cloud of inky black and gray shadows surrounds Toby. I reach for the gun on the floor and lift it, pointing it in every direction. The room stills, and there are no signs of Toby or the shadows that took him.
“We should just kill the old bastard,” a voice says beyond the door.
“We have orders to keep him alive,” another replies.
“Okay, but hear me out. If we kill the infamous Anders, we would be heroes, man.”
“Yeah, some heroes. He’s practically dead as it is.”
Is Anders the white-haired man? I use the doorknob to pull myself up onto unsteady legs. Slowly, I crack the door. Two men stand in the hallway, ignoring the chaos outside the building.
“Think about it—”
Ripping open the door, I shoot one of the men dead center in the head. The other man reaches for his gun, and I shoot him in the chest twice before he has a chance to reach for his gun.
I lean against the wall for stability. Footsteps hurry up the stairs.
I swing my arm around and shoot the man in the head before the rest of his body has a chance to show itself.
Pushing myself off the wall, I reach down to grab the gun from one of the fallen men.
Pulling the clip from the Glock, I check to see that I have another full clip.
Tucking the gun into the waistband of my pants, I make my way to the apartment next door.
“I’m so sorry, Anders. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was trying to protect Marty. I’m so sorry,” a woman cries from behind a door down the hall. I get closer, and her cries grow louder and louder. Rage starts to build under my skin. Her voice makes me want to kill her. Traitor.
I kick the door open. The man with the white hair slumps over sideways on the couch in the living area. The woman spins around, eyes wide in shock. “Shadow!” she gasps.
I pull the trigger, shooting her between the eyes. Satisfaction warms my chest as I watch the blood pool beneath her head on the floor.
Shifting my attention back to Anders, I can see the rise and fall of his chest. He’s still breathing. Relief loosens my muscles. A cacophony of gunshots and shouting continues to fill the night air. I gingerly walk over to the window.
In the streets, men shoot guns, and others shoot fireballs from their hands. Lightning bolts flash down from the sky. One man throws ice shards, impaling his opponent in the chest.
What the hell? Magic wielders, the enemies. The ones who are here to kill me. I shake my head, trying to stifle the invasive thoughts in my head. Toby said the men in the suits are my enemies. I look over my shoulder to the man slumped over on the couch.
A man in tactical gear flies past my window, holding a man I recognized in the warehouse. He flies up, past the tallest building, and drops the man to his death. Wolves run into the streets and attack each other.
A tiny female soars through the air with two large crows the size of small cars on either side.
Bolts of lightning leave her hands, striking down two wolves on the street.
A man sitting on the back of one of the crows throw an energy ball on a pack of wolves of varying sizes and color, incinerating them before my eyes.
The girl in the air wielding lightning magic captures my full attention. A flash of her with long, blond hair flitters in my mind.
A piercing noise rings in my ears. I grasp my head, willing the pain to stop. When it doesn’t, I fall to my knees and scream.
“Toby!” I cry out, even though I know the shadows already took him.
Beyond the pain, I feel someone next to me, calling out, but I can’t clearly hear them.
I open my eyes. The white-haired man with ice-blue eyes stares at me.
His lips are moving. He takes the gun that I dropped on the floor and tucks it away.
He grabs my elbow and pulls me to my feet.
We hobble toward the open door. With impressive speed, he pulls out the gun and shoots a man in the head.
The ringing in my ears finally starts to fade. This man could be my enemy. I was going to save my enemy.
I grasp the spare gun hidden in my waistband, undo the safety, and point the gun at the back of his head. He stops and slowly turns around. He slowly lowers the gun to the floor and raises both hands, palms out.
“Shadow, what have they done to you?” he rasps.
“They saved me from the magic wielders. Are you one of them?”
He closes his eyes. “I am, and so are you.”
“No. Byron said that you’re the enemy. They saved me from all of you. You tortured me!” I shout.
Opening his eyes, he counters, “Those are lies. I’m here to save you, son.”
My finger twitches over the trigger. Footsteps approach. The first man through the doorway brandishes a gun. I raise my own and shoot over the white-haired man’s shoulder, catching the newcomer in the face.
I was just a second too late. He fired a shot before falling to the floor.
Anders staggers forward and drops to his knees, clutching his chest.
“Anders, no!” A shrill scream shatters the window. Glass flies everywhere. The girl with the long, blond hair jumps in through the window. She removes her glasses as she lands on her feet. Her blue eyes match those of the man I was going to help. She runs past me and crouches down beside him.
“Anders! Please be okay. Please be okay. You can’t leave me.”
Another man enters in the doorway, gun at the ready. She throws up a hand, striking him with lightning.
Images flicker in and out of my mind. She killed an innocent man with her lightning magic. She looks up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. A white scar trails down her face. Yes, she’s the enemy. This is the one they told me about, the one who kills innocent people with her magic.
“Tyler, we need to get out of here. The team can’t locate Byron and Beaver. We need to leave and get the two of you help.”
I drag my feet across the broken shards of glass and stand closer to her. I raise the gun in my hand and press the barrel to her temple.
Her eyes widen.
“I’m going to kill you. If you escape me, I won’t stop searching for you until you’re dead.”
Clapping noise comes from the hall. Byron and the ugly bastard with the missing front teeth lunge into the room, stepping over the dead bodies littering the floor. “Do it! Kill the bitch! She’s responsible for your brother’s death.”
“Lies!” she screams at the man. Her hand moves in his direction. I press the gun closer to her temple, stopping her from making another move.
“Don’t,” I croak out in a barely audible whisper. My hands tremble. Pull the fucking trigger. Pull it. I know what I need to do. My mind screams at me to pull the damn trigger, but something holds me back.
“Tyler.” She sniffs back tears. “I didn’t kill your brother. It was an accident.”
“She’s responsible for my son’s death!” the man bellows.
She squeezes her eyes closed. Tears stream down her cheeks, guilt evident on her face. I stare her down. I’m not falling for this pitiful act. “Your tears won’t save you.” Pull the fucking trigger! Pull it!
“I love you,” she whispers. “I promised Toby that I would never forget how much you love me.”
She’s manipulating me, tricking me into letting her go so that she can continue to kill innocent shifters.
“Stop playing her game and fucking shoot her!” Byron yells.
I press the gun harder into her temple. “Say your goodbyes,” I grit through clenched teeth.
She leans down and kisses Anders on his head. Then, she pushes herself to her feet.
I follow her every move with the barrel of my gun. I hear the click of a safety. My eyes shift slightly to find Toothless aiming another gun at her. No! Without thought, I turn and shoot him between the eyes.
A forceful wind pushes me back as a chorus of gunshots bang throughout the room.
I fall back. I feel pain everywhere. A memory of the girl standing inches from me enters my head.
A beautiful white light surrounds her, and a gentle wind ruffles her long, pale blond hair.
Tiny lightning bolts dance within her aura.
She laughs, and her ice-blue eyes shine with adoration in my vision.
I want to touch her, kiss her, and make promises for our future.
I reach for her. “Princess.”