The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

I should just turn around and walk out of this place. It would be the sane and sensible thing to do. But I'd already broken one promise, even if for a very good reason. I didn’t want to break another—especially when, in reality, one was linked to the other.

Penny might yet be saved. The chances might be remote, but while the slightest speck of hope remained, I could not ignore it. For Jonas's sake, if nothing else.

I unclipped a gun and held it at the ready as I strode toward the shadows that protected the rift. The minute I stepped into them, they thickened, becoming a real and very solid presence that pressed down upon me like a ton of weight. Every step forward was an effort, and all too soon my leg muscles were quivering and I was gasping for air.

Then, with little warning, the shadows lifted, and I was stumbling forward in an effort to catch my balance.

I barely had when I realized I was not alone in this place.

Before I had the chance to see who or what it was—before I could even raise my gun in an effort to defend myself—something hit my shoulder, spun me around, and left me kneeling on the ground in a whole world of pain.

Chapter Nine

For several, all too vital seconds, I simply couldn't move. It was all I could do to keep breathing. My left shoulder had become a raging inferno and the sheer heat of it had my entire body shaking and sweating.

The stirring dust told me my attacker approached. I drew in a breath, tasting within it the sharp, dry scent of grass and sand.

Rhea help me... Branna.

Here, in the one place neither my ghosts nor Jonas could help me. And that was undoubtedly deliberate.

I closed my eyes for a moment and fought for calm. I could survive this. I would survive this.

Though I remained hunched over, I forced my head up. He walked toward me casually, a gun in one hand and some sort of oblong-shaped device in the other. His expression was one of grim satisfaction.

“What in Rhea are you doing, Branna?” My voice was little more than a harsh scrape of sound. “Dream wants to give our world to the wraiths and vampires—surely even you can't want that?”

“Of course I don't.” He stopped just beyond my reach—but not that of the gun I'd somehow managed to keep hold of as I went down. It was the reason I remained hunched over—I didn't want him to see it.

But as much as I wanted to shoot him—as much as I wanted to see him broken, bloody, and very, very dead—it wouldn’t be the wisest move right now. Aside from the fact that the pain pulsing from my wound would hamper my speed, he was far too wary—far too watchful—right now. He would be on me long before I could pull the trigger.

“Your death,” he continued evenly, “has nothing to do with any of that. It’s a simple business transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I snorted, but the slight movement sent new waves of pain crashing across my body. Sweat broke out across my forehead and dribbled down my spine. Fear bloomed.

Something was very wrong.

I’d been shot many times before, but never had a wound affected me like this. It was almost as if my flesh was reacting to the bullet lodged in my shoulder... so what had he shot me with? Not an ordinary bullet, that was for sure, and it couldn't be silver. I might have shifter genes, but my skin didn't react to its touch. Not like this, anyway.

“Ah,” Branna said. “You begin to understand your predicament.”

“You're the one in a predicament,” I growled. “Hedda Lang is Dream, Branna. She’s using you—using your hatred—”

“No,” he cut in. “You’ve got all ass-about. I’m using her—”

“To betray our whole damn world,” I said, without really thinking, “because you’re so blinded by hatred—”

“You are an abomination,” he growled, the fires of insanity briefly flaring in his eyes. “One who has no right to live when all who were decent and good died at your hands—”

“It was a war,” I responded heatedly. Desperately. And then sucked in a breath and tried to calm down. Going down that path was pointless, because Branna was never going to see beyond his memories and madness. Not when it came to me, anyway. “Do you actually think Dream will let you live after you've fulfilled the contract and killed me?”

“Oh, I’m not so foolish as to trust any government official, given the amount of times I’ve seen outside contractors disappear. It’s part of the reason why I hung around with Nuri for so long—thanks to her connections, she was safe from such actions.”

“If you think she’ll in any way protect you after this—”

“I’m well aware that she won’t, which is why I’ll disappear the minute you're dead.” He paused, and that fierce light in his eyes faded. It made me feel no safer, however. “And now that you've rescued those children, I can do so with a clear conscience.”

“How in Rhea can your conscience ever be clear knowing you're working for the woman who was responsible for destroying those children's lives? The same woman who wants to annihilate humanity?”