Dead of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 1)

I came to myself within a dark wood

where the straight way was lost.

Dante Alighieri

Ian’s lifeless body buckled and fell to the side. I leveled the carbine and squeezed, the guard’s chest in my scope. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. When his body hit the pavement, I continued to squeeze.

His jaw tore away. Half of his face lay open. Blood drained from the dozen pockmarks in his chest. The carbine went dry and I realized I squeezed the trigger more times than necessary.

A barrel pressed my temple. Boots thudded out of surrounding buildings.

“You will do exactly as I say. Twitch so much as an eyelash without my asking and you’re dead. Nod once if you understand.”

I nodded, muscles tensing to enact one of the many hand-to-hand techniques drilled into my mind.

“Good. And you’re probably realizing right now that we let you kill the drunk.” The man behind the shotgun scowled under matted hair and slid wild eyes over the mob. “If he would’ve been doing his job rather than getting sloshed, he would’ve caught her sneaking past him. Piece of shit had it coming.”

The mob nodded their heads and whooped.

He shoved the barrel harder against my head and sharpened his voice. “Now drop the rifle, the coat and whatever you’re hiding under it.” He threw my pack and kicked away my falling weapons. “On your back. Hands above your head.”

The memory of cold hands around my wrists crippled my courage. I could endure it so long as he didn’t tie me.

The concrete chilled my spine and scratched my knuckles as I lay down and raised my hands over my head. If I could get him in a Jujitsu closed guard position, I could overpower him and use his body as cover against his cohorts who crowded around spouting vulgarities.

He knelt above me and raised my chin with my own dagger. “God has destroyed our women and children. What are you? A demon disguised as a beauty to tempt us?” He spat in my face. “I will not be fooled so easily.”

A motorcycle rumbled in the distance. My shirt ripped under his hand. I pulled away. Too slow. He plunged my blade under my collar bone.

A fog of pain blotted my vision. I thrashed beneath the steel, pinned to the pavement. Blade still buried, he lanced my chest along my sternum. Skin peeled away from the carving edge. My chest erupted in fire. I fought to retain consciousness and clutched his arm. The echoed thump in my ears drowned out my screams.

He rounded the blade under my breast. Realization of his intent smacked me. I reached through the blaze of pain and gathered my last shred of strength. I held his wrist, kept him from completing the mastectomy.

Something whistled through the air. With a jolt, he straightened his back. A gasp sputtered from his slack lips. His eyes went flat, and he slumped to the side.

Screams and gun fire erupted around me. Pain seared through my chest, shutting down my senses. Blood gushed between my fingers to the march of my pulse. I fumbled for my weapons, vision wavering and recovered the dagger from the limp hand beside me.

Chills racked my body. I found my cloak, seeking its warmth as my vision cleared. That was when I saw it. An arrow projected from the butcher’s back.

The shouting and guns fell silent. I blinked away frozen tears. The parking lot littered with dead bodies, harpooned with black and red feathered arrows.

My protector ran toward me, copper eyes intensifying with each step. Several blocks away, a rout of stomping and yelling pursued. The remaining crew.

“They’re coming, Evie.” His southern drawl sharp. “I can hold ‘em. You need to go.”

He followed me? He was on the ship? Darkness washed over me. I slapped the concrete to break my fall. Saliva thickened.

I stammered, “Just need…” Ignore the pain. Deep breaths. “A minute.”

Bile rose. I swallowed and counted to three in time with my inhales.

Daylight rushed back. Jesse bent over me, tried to open my cloak. “Evie? How bad?”

An upwelling of emotion took hold of me and the familiarity of his beautiful face filled my empty spaces with an overwhelming sense of peace. I wasn’t alone. “I missed you.”

He swallowed, reached a hand inside my cloak. “Let me see it, Evie.”

I pulled away and staggered to my feet. The fire spread through my insides. “I’m fine.”

He gestured to his motorcycle. “Can you ride?”

Dizziness warred with the throbbing throughout my chest. I nodded.

His eyes widened, flooded with warmth. Then they narrowed just as quick. “Go. Get the hell out of here.”

The pound of feet grew louder.

“Go now.”

I couldn’t leave him was my first thought, but his fierce expression sent me stumbling backward. The agony sloughing my chest decided it. I’d lost a lot of blood, but as I sped away, the loss had less to do with the wound and everything to do with the man I left behind.