Midnight Jewel
Page 120
There. It was what I’d been braced for. I’d known Tom would have to shift eventually. He couldn’t maintain that awkward position. And although he didn’t release me, that slight rearrangement of his body gave me the only chance I’d get at fighting back. In the few seconds that his arm moved, I bucked up and jabbed his face with my shoulder as best I could. He immediately fired, but I’d maneuvered over just enough to escape the barrel. The gun went off right next to my head, though, and its blast sent a shock wave of pain through my ear. The world suddenly muted, and all I could hear on that side was a ringing.
Grant wasted no time either and was across the room in an instant, pulling Tom away from me. The two of them grappled on the floor, each trying to position his gun for a killing shot. They were too close and couldn’t clearly aim with all the jostling. Tom had one bullet left and had to make sure his shot counted. Even with two bullets, Grant had to be cautious too. I glanced around for any weapons, but all I saw was the empty gun Tom had knocked out of my hand. Picking it back up, I moved over to the two men.
A brief opening let me slam the gun against Tom’s head. He cursed and fumbled for just a moment, enough that Grant fired. Tom had squirmed away at the last possible moment and rather than continuing with Grant, he grabbed my bad ankle. I lost my balance and fell onto them, putting us into a momentary tangle of limbs and confusion. Tom managed to sit up and aimed at me, his clearest target, ready to use his last shot. Grant shoved me aside just as the gun discharged, and I saw his body jerk when the bullet struck. I screamed and dove for the gun he’d dropped. Tom was faster.
“Not an inch more, Aviel,” he said, clamoring to his feet. I could barely make out the words with my ear still ringing. His mask was crooked, some of his feathers rumpled. But aside from a few red blotches on his face, he stood unharmed as he trained the pistol on me.
I looked over at Grant lying beside me. A crismson stain blossomed along the side of his shirt, spreading farther and farther. His eyes stared upward, and although his chest rose and fell, those breaths were shallow and ragged. I was too shocked to feel grief or anger or anything at all. This was too unreal to even process. I clutched Grant’s hand and turned resignedly back to Tom, back to the gun’s barrel. There was no mirth or cockiness on his hardened features.
“I really am sorr—”
A blast sounded behind me, and Tom fell. I looked back and saw Elijah standing at the base of the stairs. He stalked forward, attention solely on Tom’s fallen body. It didn’t move. After a few more seconds of scrutiny, Elijah lowered his gun and swiftly knelt by my side.
“Help us,” I told him, leaning over Grant. I ran a hand over his sweaty forehead and started to reach for the wound. I pulled my hand back, unsure what to do.
Elijah pulled his coat off and handed it to me. “Use it to put pressure on the wound. Lean into it. I’ve got to get someone else to help lift him out of here.”
He ran up the stairs, and I followed his orders with the coat, pressing it into Grant’s side. He flinched but didn’t cry out. Those shrewd dark eyes that normally never missed a detail stared up in a daze. Now that my stunned state had passed, I had too many emotions flooding me, the foremost being terror. I tried to swallow it back, knowing I needed a clear head.
“Hold on, hold on,” I said, my voice cracking. “Don’t leave. Don’t become a ghost for real.”
After a few blinks, his glazed eyes managed to focus on my face. He said something in Balanquan and then frowned, like he’d realized what he’d done but couldn’t change it. At last, he managed some Osfridian, but it was so soft, I couldn’t make it all out with my ringing ear. “. . . don’t worry . . . I can’t wander far . . . not when . . . my Saasa is here . . . I . . .” He switched to Balanquan and then trailed off into silence, his face blanching as the pain reared up.
A tear ran down my cheek, but I had no free hand to wipe it away. I gazed at the stairs, willing Elijah to appear, even though it had only been a couple of minutes. I turned back to Grant and found myself rambling. “You shouldn’t have come. You’re not supposed to be here. You were supposed to go chase your obsession.”
He closed his eyes, but his mouth looked like it wanted to smile. He wet his lips a few times, and I leaned closer to hear his next raspy words.” . . . I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
Something moved in my periphery. Elijah. He was back so quickly, I wondered if he’d just decided to give up. A moment later, an ashen-faced Silas darted down the stairs.
And then I let the tears come.
CHAPTER 34
CAPE TRIUMPH WAS UPENDED IN THE DAYS THAT followed. Governor Doyle had known nothing of his son’s treachery but had to deal with its aftermath, working with other colonial leaders and the McGraw Agency. The Icori had been given permission to camp on the city’s outskirts and addressed their grievances in diplomatic talks that Tamsin helped facilitate. Elijah, as I’d suspected, had been the one coding and decoding Balanquan for Tom. Elijah had only discovered the full extent of the conspiracy recently. That knowledge had come on the tails of increasing uneasiness with Tom’s work, but fear of retribution on his family had kept Elijah from breaking away. Now, free, he bought amnesty for himself by telling all he knew. Seeing Tom about to kill me had been the catalyst to finally shake Elijah up. He’d grown too disillusioned with Tom and too fond of me, thus proving Tom wrong. Closeness, attachment, and treating others as humans, not pawns, weren’t a weakness after all.
And Grant? Well, Grant wasn’t easy to kill.
A doctor removed the bullet and said nothing vital had been struck, but the threat of infection or too much blood loss still loomed over us that first day. I spent those hours in agony while Grant spent them heavily sedated under painkillers at Silas’s. The doctor finally announced that Grant would make a full recovery, and as he gradually came off the painkillers, he proved to be an unruly patient. He hated being restricted. He especially hated being waited on. It made him grouchier than usual, but Silas, Aiana, and I didn’t mind as we took turns keeping him company.
Grant wasted no time either and was across the room in an instant, pulling Tom away from me. The two of them grappled on the floor, each trying to position his gun for a killing shot. They were too close and couldn’t clearly aim with all the jostling. Tom had one bullet left and had to make sure his shot counted. Even with two bullets, Grant had to be cautious too. I glanced around for any weapons, but all I saw was the empty gun Tom had knocked out of my hand. Picking it back up, I moved over to the two men.
A brief opening let me slam the gun against Tom’s head. He cursed and fumbled for just a moment, enough that Grant fired. Tom had squirmed away at the last possible moment and rather than continuing with Grant, he grabbed my bad ankle. I lost my balance and fell onto them, putting us into a momentary tangle of limbs and confusion. Tom managed to sit up and aimed at me, his clearest target, ready to use his last shot. Grant shoved me aside just as the gun discharged, and I saw his body jerk when the bullet struck. I screamed and dove for the gun he’d dropped. Tom was faster.
“Not an inch more, Aviel,” he said, clamoring to his feet. I could barely make out the words with my ear still ringing. His mask was crooked, some of his feathers rumpled. But aside from a few red blotches on his face, he stood unharmed as he trained the pistol on me.
I looked over at Grant lying beside me. A crismson stain blossomed along the side of his shirt, spreading farther and farther. His eyes stared upward, and although his chest rose and fell, those breaths were shallow and ragged. I was too shocked to feel grief or anger or anything at all. This was too unreal to even process. I clutched Grant’s hand and turned resignedly back to Tom, back to the gun’s barrel. There was no mirth or cockiness on his hardened features.
“I really am sorr—”
A blast sounded behind me, and Tom fell. I looked back and saw Elijah standing at the base of the stairs. He stalked forward, attention solely on Tom’s fallen body. It didn’t move. After a few more seconds of scrutiny, Elijah lowered his gun and swiftly knelt by my side.
“Help us,” I told him, leaning over Grant. I ran a hand over his sweaty forehead and started to reach for the wound. I pulled my hand back, unsure what to do.
Elijah pulled his coat off and handed it to me. “Use it to put pressure on the wound. Lean into it. I’ve got to get someone else to help lift him out of here.”
He ran up the stairs, and I followed his orders with the coat, pressing it into Grant’s side. He flinched but didn’t cry out. Those shrewd dark eyes that normally never missed a detail stared up in a daze. Now that my stunned state had passed, I had too many emotions flooding me, the foremost being terror. I tried to swallow it back, knowing I needed a clear head.
“Hold on, hold on,” I said, my voice cracking. “Don’t leave. Don’t become a ghost for real.”
After a few blinks, his glazed eyes managed to focus on my face. He said something in Balanquan and then frowned, like he’d realized what he’d done but couldn’t change it. At last, he managed some Osfridian, but it was so soft, I couldn’t make it all out with my ringing ear. “. . . don’t worry . . . I can’t wander far . . . not when . . . my Saasa is here . . . I . . .” He switched to Balanquan and then trailed off into silence, his face blanching as the pain reared up.
A tear ran down my cheek, but I had no free hand to wipe it away. I gazed at the stairs, willing Elijah to appear, even though it had only been a couple of minutes. I turned back to Grant and found myself rambling. “You shouldn’t have come. You’re not supposed to be here. You were supposed to go chase your obsession.”
He closed his eyes, but his mouth looked like it wanted to smile. He wet his lips a few times, and I leaned closer to hear his next raspy words.” . . . I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
Something moved in my periphery. Elijah. He was back so quickly, I wondered if he’d just decided to give up. A moment later, an ashen-faced Silas darted down the stairs.
And then I let the tears come.
CHAPTER 34
CAPE TRIUMPH WAS UPENDED IN THE DAYS THAT followed. Governor Doyle had known nothing of his son’s treachery but had to deal with its aftermath, working with other colonial leaders and the McGraw Agency. The Icori had been given permission to camp on the city’s outskirts and addressed their grievances in diplomatic talks that Tamsin helped facilitate. Elijah, as I’d suspected, had been the one coding and decoding Balanquan for Tom. Elijah had only discovered the full extent of the conspiracy recently. That knowledge had come on the tails of increasing uneasiness with Tom’s work, but fear of retribution on his family had kept Elijah from breaking away. Now, free, he bought amnesty for himself by telling all he knew. Seeing Tom about to kill me had been the catalyst to finally shake Elijah up. He’d grown too disillusioned with Tom and too fond of me, thus proving Tom wrong. Closeness, attachment, and treating others as humans, not pawns, weren’t a weakness after all.
And Grant? Well, Grant wasn’t easy to kill.
A doctor removed the bullet and said nothing vital had been struck, but the threat of infection or too much blood loss still loomed over us that first day. I spent those hours in agony while Grant spent them heavily sedated under painkillers at Silas’s. The doctor finally announced that Grant would make a full recovery, and as he gradually came off the painkillers, he proved to be an unruly patient. He hated being restricted. He especially hated being waited on. It made him grouchier than usual, but Silas, Aiana, and I didn’t mind as we took turns keeping him company.
