Charles runs at him, tackling him to the ground. I yell with surprise at the sudden onslaught. Charles grips Lucius’s wrist and slams it against the floor again and again until he drops the knife, which skitters across the tile toward me.
Charles wraps his hands around Lucius’s throat. “When I’m through with your family, nothing will be left. I will burn them alive, the same way you did to my family. And I’ll piss on the ashes.”
Lucius fights, punching and struggling against Charles. I look down. The blade is between us. My vision tunnels, and I stare at the glinting blade. Can I do this? I already killed a man once. Surely, I can do it again. Especially to Charles. Especially when Lucius is in trouble.
I drop the bag I’ve been clutching and snatch up the blade. Charles doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even know I’ve come up behind him.
My hands shake, but I won’t let this bastard kill Lucius. If anyone gets to do that, it’s me. I bring the blade up and prepare to slam it down into his back, but then Charles groans and falls sideways off Lucius.
Lucius sits up and cracks his neck, then gets to his feet as Charles crawls away, leaving a bloody trail on the pale floor.
“Darlin’.” He takes the blade from my hand. “We should be going. We wouldn’t want to be late.” His tone is so easy, not at all indicative of the fact he’s been fighting for his life.
Charles turns over and flops onto his back, a knife embedded in his stomach. He yells, the sound rattling down the long hallway.
“I’ll finish this for you, and then we’ll go. Sound good?” He kisses the back of my hand. “Good.” He turns back to Charles as the man pulls himself to his feet.
Flipping the blade in the air, Lucius catches it with ease and advances on Charles. “I love a good gutting. Really gets the blood up.”
Is this man—the one I tried to kill, the one who took my brother from me, the one I’ve vowed to ruin—is he going to kill for me? I think I might be going crazy. Or maybe the rollercoaster of the past week is making me force connections where there aren’t any. After all, Lucius is a killer. Killing Charles is well within his nature. But he said it was for me. For me.
Lucius goes for him, his body taut and controlled, like a lethal cat stalking prey.
Charles, one hand around the blade in his gut, dodges to the left, ramming through the door into the stairwell. Lucius follows him through the door, and then I hear a fading scream and a sick thud.
Lucius yanks open the stairway door again. “Shit. He launched himself off the rail. He’s a few stories down.”
Another apartment door opens, and a woman in a robe with a towel around her hair hurries out. “Did you hear that scream? I was in the shower and …”
Lucius stows his knife before the woman notices.
“What’s happened?” She narrows her eyes at him and then focuses on the blood marring the floor. “What’s that? It leads to the stairwell.”
“We have to go.” Lucius takes my elbow and leads me to the elevator. Two more doors open—the residents probably emboldened by the shower woman.
The doors open, and we step onto the elevator as if this is a completely normal evening. We’re just a couple on a date, not two people who fought off an attacker who then fell to a grisly end.
I’m practically stupefied, my thoughts congealing as he leads me through the lobby and out the front door. He stops before we reach a black sedan on the curb. When he puts his hands up to cup my face, something inside me that’s been on a knife’s edge seems to back off. I can breathe. I can look into his eyes and calm myself.
“It’s a good bet the fall killed him. Especially since his guts were already falling into his hands. But if not, I’m going to kill him for you, Evie. I swear it. I won’t let him hurt you.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” I say it without hesitation.
“Good.” He pulls back, his gaze darting to my lips for only a split second. Then he opens the back of the car and helps me in.
We take off as sirens wail nearby.
“If you walk into the Sovereign’s party, you’ll never walk back out again.” My voice shakes as I peer at him in the dark back seat of the car.
“An excellent point. Noted and discarded.” He moves closer. “Come here. You’re shivering.”
I don’t fight as Lucius wraps his arm around me. I don’t protest when he kisses my forehead and smooths my hair back into place. That soothing sensation is there in each of his touches, in every brush of his fingertips against my skin. It’s wrong that he makes me feel this way, but I can’t deny it. And right now?